CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.
LOVE'S CONQUEST.
Six months had passed by, taking with them the keen edge of anxiety, butleaving behind the dull, monotonous routine which is almost as hard tobear. It is not enlivening, to be obliged to work instead of play, tolook ten times at a sixpence before you dare spend it, to consider whatyou can do without, rather than what you can have, and to see noprospect ahead but continual cheese-paring and self-denial; and when youhappen to be young and full of life, it is harder than ever.
With Dr Maclure's help, Mr Connor was able to continue his business,and his City friends rallied round him, doing their best to put work inhis way; but, even so, there were pressing debts to be settled besidesthe loan which one and all were anxious to repay, so that housekeepingexpenses had to be reduced to a minimum. It was decided that one of theelder girls must stay at home, while the other tried for work abroad,and it was at once a relief and a blow for Ruth when Mollie was chosenas mother's help. She had dreaded the irksome duties of mending,cooking, dusting, and everlasting putting to rights, which would havefallen to her share, but it would have been a comfort to have beenchosen!
"Don't feel hurt, darling; it's a pure question of suitability," MrsConnor had explained anxiously. "Mollie is stronger than you are, andhas a more adaptable temperament. She won't feel the little jars as youwould, and will get on better with the maid. It is the art of a goodgeneral to place his forces in the best position."
"Yes, of course, dear. It's quite--quite right! Arrange everything asyou think best," replied Ruth sweetly, kissing the little, wistful faceas she spoke; for Mrs Connor was still very fragile, and by DrMaclure's orders had to be spared all possible worry.
The same orders were extended to forbid Ruth from taking advantage ofLady Margot's offer to procure work at a distance.
"Unless it proves absolutely impossible to find a suitable post here, Idon't think it would be wise to subject your mother to any furtheranxiety. She would be constantly worrying about your welfare, and thatis the very thing we wish to avoid. Would it be a great disappointmentto you to give up going to London?" he inquired, with a quick, gravelook at Ruth's face.
"It would be a blessed relief. I'd a million times rather be at home;but what can I find to do? I am ashamed to think how incompetent I am!Here we are back again where we were three months ago, Dr Maclure, whenI worried you and Eleanor about a vocation!"
Ruth smiled, then flushed crimson at a sudden remembrance of how thatconversation had ended. She was immeasurably thankful to the doctor forlooking in an opposite direction and continuing to talk in the mostmatter-of-fact manner.
"It occurred to me last night that I knew of a post which might suit youfor the next few months. The secretary of our Home for Nurses is on thepoint of breaking down, and needs a good rest. The work needs nospecial knowledge; it consists mainly in answering endless notes ofinquiries, and in keeping some very simple accounts. I could soon coachyou up in what is necessary. You would have to be there from ten tosix--not heavy hours, as things go. I think I could secure the post foryou for, say, the next three months, if you cared to accept it."
"And how much should I get?"
"Miss Edgar's salary is forty pounds; you would get a fourth of that--"
"Ten pounds!" Ruth stared at him with dilated eyes. "Ten pounds!Every day from ten to six for three whole months, and only ten pounds!Dr Maclure, do you know it is a real, true, honest fact that I paidtwenty pounds for a ball-dress only a few weeks ago? I've got it now ina box upstairs!"
The doctor smiled.
"I should like to see you in it! I hope I may some day. It certainlyseems a good deal of money, but I suppose it is very fine, and will lasta long time."
"But it won't! It's a mere wisp of gauze, that will only be fit to burnafter being worn two or three times. And I should have to work for sixmonths to earn enough to pay for it! How shocking! What a terribledifference there is between the lives of the rich and the poor!"
"Ah, there you have touched on a great problem! After you have had someexperience of being a working woman, you may not care to buy any moretwenty-pound dresses, even if the opportunity offers. I know that thepayment is small, but I am afraid you would find it difficult to getmore without any special knowledge or training. It is hard for you,especially coming so soon after your taste of luxury; but if you canface it--"
"Oh yes, indeed! I'll take it, and be thankful; and perhaps, if I dovery well and keep the books nicely, I may be worth fifty pounds nexttime!" said Ruth, with a charming courage, which might well have arousedany man's admiration.
Dr Maclure made no remark, and turned his head aside. He had a habitnowadays of looking at other things when he was speaking to Ruth. So ithappened that while Mollie worked at home, Ruth went forth every day toher monotonous task, trudging along the same well-known path, in sun andrain, heat and cold--for the secretary's leave of absence had to beprolonged--until Christmas was close at hand, and the ten pounds' salaryhad doubled in value.
"I shall be able to buy myself a new mackintosh and a pair of good stoutboots," Ruth said to herself, as she trudged home one dismal Decemberevening, and felt a suspicious dampness in the soles of her tired littlefeet.
She had no idea what a charming figure she made in her long, dark coat,with her hair curling in wet rings about her face; for she carried noumbrella, as her cloth toque defied the weather, and she preferred tokeep her hands free to hold her skirts from contact with the muddyroads. The pink-and-white face, with its delicately cut features, andstraight black brows, shone out like a flower among the tired,colourless-looking throng of workers who wended their way homeward; andher expression was bright and alert, despite the dismal surroundings.
Ruth was surprised at her own happiness of late. Her work was dull andmonotonous, and she had few pleasures to relieve it; yet, for somemysterious reason, she was more truly content at heart than in thosedays of ease and luxury, which seemed like a dream of the past. Sixmonths had passed since that memorable day when she and Mollie hadbidden adieu to the Court; and Uncle Bernard still lived, and wasapparently in the same condition.
Mrs Thornton kept her friends well informed of the news of theneighbourhood, so that they knew that, though Victor Druce hadostensibly returned to town at the expiration of his three months'visit, he was constantly running down and bringing friends with him fora few days' shooting, with the privilege of a son of the house. For therest, Margot Blount had returned to town, and Jack Melland'scommunications were limited to an occasional picture-postcard bearinghalf a dozen words of greeting. Mollie made no comment on the briefnessof these missives, and was always cheery and busy, but sometimes on herreturn from her day's work Ruth would look at her anxiously, and wonderif it were only imagination that Mollie looked different, thinner andolder--a woman rather than a girl. Perhaps after all she had the harderpath--shut up in the house, without the daily variety of seeing freshrooms and fresh faces. The regular constitutional, too, was in itselfhealth-giving, and though Ruth received much pity at home on the scoreof her long, wet walks, it was astonishing what pleasant surprisesloomed out of the fog at times. She smiled to herself, and a dimpledipped in her cheek.
The good old fairy days were not yet over, when a tired Cinderella,trudging through the mire, was suddenly provided with a comfortablecarriage, springing as it were out of the earth to carry her to herdestination. It was extraordinary how often Dr Maclure's brougham"happened" to be travelling in the same direction as herself on wetevenings; and although the doctor himself was conspicuous by hisabsence, the coachman was wonderfully quick to recognise one figure outof many, and to draw up with a "Just driving past your house, miss. CanI give you a lift?"
Ruth had no doubt that it was the master, not the man, who wasresponsible for these meetings, and the conviction brought with it aglow of content, of which as yet she failed to realise the meaning.Nevertheless, her heart beat with a pleasurable excitement as shethreaded her way
through the crowded streets, wondering if once againthe fairy equipage would be sent to the rescue, if it would appear atthis corner or the next. At last, through the driving sleet, sherecognised the familiar outline of the brougham drawn up beside thepavement, but for once the coachman sat stiffly on his box, while themaster stepped forward to meet her.
"Miss Ruth, it is a shocking evening! I have a call to pay in thisneighbourhood. Do let George drive you home before you are wetthrough."
Ruth stood still and looked at him. The drops of moisture were thickupon hat and coat, her soft cheeks were damp with rain, but her eyesdanced with a spice of mischief which was more like Mollie than thegrave, elder sister of the family.
"I'll drive with pleasure on one condition--that you will first allowyourself to be taken to your patient's house," she replied demurely,adding when the doctor hesitated in embarrassment: "It is such a veryodd neighbourhood for a patient to live in, in the midst of these greatblocks of offices! I think we may perhaps have to drive you a long,long way."
For a moment Dr Maclure did not reply; he merely held open the door ofthe carriage, waiting until Ruth should have taken her seat; then heleant towards her, the light from the lamps showing the nervous tremorof his lips.
"I will come in too, on one condition--that you are willing to drivebeside me all the way, Ruth!"
What did he mean? Ruth started and flushed, for the tone of voice waseven more eloquent than the words themselves. The moment which she hadvaguely expected, dreaded, and hoped for, had come suddenly upon her,provoked by her own jesting words. She did not know what to say, or howto say it, only one definite thought stood out distinctly in theconfusion of her mind, namely, that Dr Maclure was standing unprotectedin the damp and cold. She held out her hand towards him, and criedtremulously--
"Don't stand out in the rain! Oh, please come in! We will go where youlike?"
Dr Maclure leapt lightly to his seat, and the coachman whipped up hishorses without waiting for instructions. A coachman is only an ordinaryman after all, and George had seen how the wind blew for many a longday. He took care not to drive too quickly, nor to choose the shortestroutes, satisfied that for once his master was not in a hurry.
Inside the brougham Dr Maclure held Ruth's shabbily gloved little handin his, and asked earnestly--
"Can you give me a different answer this time, Ruth? It has been aweary waiting, and I seem to have grown worse instead of better. I fearit is an incurable complaint! Can you give me a glimmer of hope, dear,or is it still quite impossible?"
Ruth shook her head and nodded and smiled, and sighed, and shed a fewbright tears, in a whirl of delightful confusion.
"It's--it's not impossible at all! I think I am quite sure. I havebeen growing surer and surer all this time. But am I good enough? Youremember that six months ago I fancied myself in love with someoneelse?"
"I can afford to forget that episode, and even to be thankful for it, ifit has shown you your own mind, so that now you are `quite sure'! Oh,Ruth, it is too good to be true! Can you really be happy with a dull,old fellow like me? No country seat, you know; no life of ease andluxury, just a comfortable, commonplace house, with a husband who is toohard-worked to have much time for play. I have no fortune to offer you,dear, except love--there's no end to that wealth!"
Ruth turned her beautiful eyes upon him with a smile of perfect content.
"But that's everything!" she cried. "I shall be the richest woman inthe world!"
The Fortunes of the Farrells Page 35