Other Things Being Equal

by Emma Wolf

  Chapter X

  "A humble bard presents his respects to my Lady Marechal Niel, and begsher to step down to the gate for about two minutes."

  The note was handed to Ruth early the next morning as she stood in thekitchen beating up eggs for an omelette for her mother's breakfast. Asmile of mingled surprise and amusement overspread her face as sheread; instinctively turning the card, she saw, "Herbert Kemp, M. D.," insimple lithograph.

  "Do I look all right, Mary?" she asked hurriedly, placing the bowl onthe table and half turning to the cook as she walked to the door. Marydeliberately placed both hands on her hips and eyed her sharply.

  "And striped flannel dresses and hairs in braids," she began, as shealways did, as if continuing a thought, "being nice, pretty flannel andnice, pretty braids, Miss Ruth do look sweet-like, which is nothing outof the common, for she always do!"

  The last was almost shouted after Ruth, who had run from the cook'sprolixity.

  As she hurried down the walk, she recognized the doctor's carriage,containing the doctor himself with Bob in state beside him. Two handswent up to two respective hats as the gate swung behind her, and sheadvanced with hand extended to Bob.

  "You are looking much better," she exclaimed heartily, shaking therather bashfully outstretched hand; "your first outing, is it not?"

  "Yes, lady." It had been impossible for her to make him call her byname.

  "He elected to pay his first devoirs to the Queen of Roses, as heexpressed it," spoke up Kemp, with his disengaged hand on the boy'sshoulder, and looking with a puzzled expression at Ruth. Last night shehad been a young woman; this morning she was a young girl; it wasonly after he had driven off that he discovered the cause lay in thearrangement of her hair.

  "Thank you, Bob; presently I expect to have you paying me a visit onfoot, when we can come to a clearer understanding about my flower-beds."

  "He says," returned the boy, turning an almost humbly devoted look onKemp, "that I must not think of gardening for some weeks. And so--andso--"

  "Yes?"

  "And so," explained the doctor, briskly, "he is going to hold myreins on our rounds, and imbibe a world of sunshine to expend on someflowers--yours or mine, perhaps--by and by."

  Bob's eyes were luminous with feeling as they rested on the dark,bearded face of his benefactor.

  "Now say all you have to say, and we'll be off," said Kemp, tucking inthe robe at Bob's side.

  "I didn't have anything to say, sir; I came only to let her know."

  "And I am so glad, Bob," said Ruth, smiling up into the boy's shy,speaking eyes. People always will try to add to the comfort of aconvalescent, and Ruth, in turn, drew down the robe over the lad'shands. As she did so, her cousin, Jennie Lewis, passed hurriedly by. Herquick blue eyes took in to a detail the attitudes of the trio.

  "Good-morning, Jennie," said Ruth, turning; "are you coming in?"

  "Not now," bowing stiffly and hurrying on.

  "Cabbage-rose."

  Bob delivered himself of this sentiment as gently as if he had let falla pearl.

  The doctor gave a quick look at Ruth, which she met, smiling.

  "He cannot help his inspiration," she remarked easily, and stepped backas the doctor pulled the reins.

  "Come again, Bob," she called, and with a smile to Kemp she ran in.

  "And I was going to say," continued Mary, as she re-entered the kitchen,"that a speck of aig splashed on your cheek, Miss Ruth."

  "Oh, Mary, where?"

  "But not knowin' that you would see anybody, I didn't think to run afteryou; so it's just this side your mouth, like if you hadn't wiped it goodafter breakfast."

  Ruth rubbed it off, wondering with vexation if the doctor had noticedit. Truth to say, the doctor had noticed it, and naturally placed thesame passing construction on it that Mary had suggested. Not that thelittle yellow splash occupied much of his attention. When he droveoff, all he thought of Ruth's appearance was that her braided hair hunggracefully and heavily down her back; that she looked young,--decidedlyyoung and missish; and that he had probably spoken indiscreetly andimpulsively to the wrong person on a wrong subject the night before.

  Dress has a subtile influence upon our actions: one gown can make aromp, another a princess, another a boor, another a sparkling coquette,out of the same woman. The female mood is susceptibly sympathetic to thefitness or unfitness of dress. Now, Ruth was without doubt the samegirl who had so earnestly and sympathetically heard the doctor'sunconventional story; but the fashion of her gown had changed theimpression she had made a few hours back.

  An hour later, and Dr. Kemp could not have failed to recognize Ruth,the woman of his confidence. Something, perhaps a dormant spirit ofworldliness, kept her from disclosing to her mother the reason of hergoing out. She herself felt no shame or doubt as to the advisabilityof her action; but the certain knowledge of her mother's disapproval ofsuch a proceeding restrained the disclosure which, of a surety, wouldhave cost her the non-fulfilment of a kindly act. A bit of subterfugewhich hurts no one is often not only excusable, but commendable.Besides, it saved her mother an annoying controversy; and so, fullysatisfied as to her part, Ruth took her way down the street. Thequestion as to whether the doctor had gone beyond the bounds of theirbrief acquaintance had of course been presented to her mind; but if aslight flush came into her face when she remembered the nature of thenarrative and the personality of the narrator, it was quickly banishedby the sweet assurance that in this way he had honored her beyond thereach of current flattery.

  A certain placid strength possessed her and showed in her grave browneyes; with her whole heart and soul she wished to do this thing, andshe longed to do it well. Her purpose robbed her of every trace ofnervousness; and it was a sweet-faced young woman who gently knockedat room Number 10 on the second floor of a respectable lodging-house onPolk Street.

  Receiving no answer to her knock, she repeated it somewhat more loudly.At this a tired voice called, "Come in."

  She turned the knob, which yielded to her touch, and found herself ina small, well-lighted, and neat room. Seated in an armchair near thewindow, but with her back toward it, was what on first view appeared tobe a golden-haired child in black; one elbow rested on the arm of thechair, and a childish hand supported the flower-like head. As Ruthhesitated after closing the door behind her, she found a pair oflistless violet eyes regarding her from a small white face.

  "Well?" queried the girl, without changing her position except to allowher gaze to travel to the floor.

  "You are Miss Rose Delano?" said Ruth, as she came a step nearer.

  "What of that?" Asked the girl, lifelessly, her dull eyes wanderingeverywhere but to the face of her strange interlocutor.

  "I am Ruth Levice, a friend of Dr. Kemp. Will that introduction beenough to make you shake hands with me?"

  She advanced toward her, holding out her hand. A burning flame shotacross Rose Delano's face, and she shrank farther back among herpillows.

  "No," she said, putting up a repellent hand; "it is not enough. Do nottouch me, or you will regret it. You must not, I say." She arose quicklyfrom her chair and stood at bay, regarding Ruth. The latter, taller thanshe by head and shoulders, looked down at her smiling.

  "I know no reason why I must not," she replied gently.

  "You do not know me."

  "No; but I know of you."

  "Then why did you come; why don't you go?" The blue eyes looked withpassionate resentment at her.

  "Because I have come to see you; because I wish to shake hands withyou."

  "Why?"

  "Why?"

  "Why do you wish to do that?"

  "Because I wish to be your friend. May we not be friends? I am not mucholder than you, I think."

  "You are centuries younger. Who sent you here? Dr. Kemp?"

  "No one sent me; I came of my own free will."

  "Then go as you came."

  "No."

  She stood gracefully and quietly before her. Rose Delano moved f
artherfrom her, as if to escape her grave brown eyes.

  "You do not know what you are doing," cried the girl, excitedly; "haveyou no father or mother, no one to tell you what a girl should not do?"

  "I have both; but I have also a friend,--Dr. Kemp."

  "He is my friend too," affirmed Rose, tremulously.

  "Then we have one good thing in common; and since he is my friend andyours, why should we not be friends?"

  "Because he is a man, and you are a woman. He has then told you mystory?"

  "Yes."

  "And you feel yourself unharmed in coming here--to such a creature asI?"

  "I feel nothing but pity for you; I do not blame you. But, oh, littleone, I do so grieve for you because you won't believe that the world isnot all merciless. Come, give me your hand."

  "No," she said, clasping her hands behind her and retreating as theother advanced; "go away, please. You are very good, but you are veryfoolish. Bad as I am, however, I shall not let you harm yourself more;leave my room, please."

  "Not till I have held your hands in mine."

  "Stop! I tell you I don't want you to come here; I don't want yourfriendship. Can't you go now, or are you afraid that your sweetheartwill upbraid you if you fail to carry out his will?"

  "My sweetheart?" she asked in questioning wonder.

  "Yes; only a lover could make a girl like you so forget herself. I speakof Dr. Kemp."

  "But he is not my lover," she stated, still speaking gently, but with apale face turned to her companion.

  "I--I--beg your pardon," faltered the girl, humbly drooping her head,shamed by the cold pride in her tormentor's face; "but why, oh, why,then, won't you go?" she continued, wildly sobbing. "I assure you it isbest."

  "This is best," said Ruth, deliberately; and before Rose knew it she hadseized her two hands, and unclasping them from behind her, drew them toher own breast.

  "Now," she said, holding them tightly, "who is the stronger, you or I?"She looked pleasantly down at the tear-stained face so close to hers.

  "O God!" breathed the girl, her storm-beaten eyes held by the power ofher captor's calmness.

  "Now we are friends," said Ruth, softly, "shall we sit down and talk?"

  Still holding the slender hands, she drew up a chair, and seating thefrail girl in the armchair, sat down beside her.

  "Oh, wait!" whispered Rose; "let me tell you everything before you makeme live again."

  "I know everything; and truly, Rose, nothing you can say could make mewish to befriend you less."

  "How nobly, how kindly he must have told you!"

  "Hush! He told me nothing but the truth. To me you are a victim, not aculprit. And now, tell me, do you feel perfectly strong?"

  "Oh, yes." The little hand swept in agony over her sad, childish face.

  "Then you ought to go out for a nice walk. You have no idea how pleasantit is this morning."

  "I can't, indeed I can't! and, oh, why should I?"

  "You can and you must, because you must go to work soon."

  Two frightened eyes were raised to hers.

  "Yes," she added, patting the hand she held; "you are a teacher, are younot?"

  "I was," she replied, the catch in her voice still audible.

  "What are you used to teaching?"

  "Spanish, and English literature."

  "Spanish--with your blue eyes!" The sudden outburst of surprise sent afaint April-like beam into Rose's face.

  "Si, Senorita."

  "Then you must teach me. Let me see. Wednesdays,--Wednesday afternoon,yes?"

  Again the frightened eyes appealed to her; but Ruth ignored them.

  "And so many of my friends would like to speak Spanish. Will you teachthem too?"

  "Oh, Miss Levice, how can I go with such a past?"

  "I tell you," said Ruth, proudly rearing her head, "if I introduce youas my friend, you are, you must be, presentable."

  The pale lips strove to answer her.

  "To-morrow I shall come with a number of names of girls who are 'dying,'as they say, to speak Spanish, and then you can go and make arrangementswith them. Will you?"

  Thus pushed to the wall, Rose's tear-filled eyes were her only answer.

  Ruth's own filled in turn.

  "Dear little Rose," she said, her usual sweet voice coming back to her,"won't it be lovely to do this? You will feel so much better when youonce get out and are earning your independent, pleasant living again.And now will you forgive me for having been so harsh?"

  "Forgive you!" A red spot glowed on each pallid cheek; she raised hereyes and said with simple fervor, "I would die for you."

  "No, but you may live for me," laughed Ruth, rising; "will you promiseme to go out this morning, just for a block or two?"

  "I promise you."

  "Well, then, good-by." She held out her hand meaningly; a littlefluttering one was placed in hers, and Ruth bent and kissed the wistfulmouth. That pure kiss would have wiped out every stain from Rose'sworshipping soul.

  "I shall see you to-morrow surely," she called back, turning a radiantface to the lonely little figure in the doorway. She felt deliriouslyhappy as she ran down the stairs; her eyes shone like stars; a buoyantjoyfulness spoke in her step.

  "It is so easy to be happy when one has everything," she mused. Sheforgot to add, "And gives much." There is so much happiness derived froma kind action that were it not for the motive, charity might be calledsupreme selfishness.