Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 17, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 January 1911 — Thanks for Two [ARTICLE]

Thanks for Two

By JOANNA SINGLE

Copyrigbt, 1910, by Associated Literary Press

Early in the afternoon Janie, her usually laughing fair face sober and thoughtful, was putting the last holiday touches to the solid beauty of the Old house. From an. open door she could hear her mother’s gentle voice and the heavier tones of the family ■cook in housekeeping consultation. Bhe had just arranged some splendid chrysanthemums to her satisfaction when her mother called her. “Janie,” she sair, “your father and I are worried about Ruth. Do you know what the trouble is? You’ve noticed how thin and fretful she is—and her college work has been very light Tn the two days she has been home she hasn’t been herself at all. Sometimes a sister can get at things [better than a mother. I wouldn’t ask iyou to betray confidence, of course — but I’m anxious.” Jennie, in her elderdaughterly fashion, came to put an arm about her pretty mother. "I’ve noticed—and she cries at night when she thinks I’m asleep. But she hasn’t told me a thing,. and I haven’t dared act as if I were worried. She’s so offish, and declares she’s perfectly well. You don’t suppose it could be about —Russell? Since he's ben at Harvard this year—we don’t know what they may have written. I didn’t say anything to you, but last fall at Nan’s party Ruth did flirt awfully with Allan, and I could see Rusisell was furious; but they both went away in a few days, and I rather forgot It Don’t worry, mother, and I’ll try to find out.” The older sister failed to find the once sparkling, happy Ruth in, her room, or in the library, or anywhere about the house. Finally going on an errand to the sewing room on the third floor, she heard a queer noise and hastily opened the door. Ruth lay full length on the rug, her face hidden in her thin little bands, her dark curling hair falling about her crimson bathrobe. The slender figure was shaking with 6obs. She became aware of her sister, who knelt beside her. She went on crying. “Ruth, I will know what’s wrong! You’ll make yourself ill —why, child, you’re burning with fever —” “I’d like to be dead,” mourned Ruth. “I’m so miserable and it isn’t a thing a girl can talk about Do go away.” “Is it about Russell?” persisted Janie. “I saw how he acted last fall. Tell me, dearie. What’s been going on while you were at school. Does he write to you?” “We had an awful quarrel—after Nan’s party, tie was—horrible.” “I suppose so—you acted with Allan In a way to make him horrible, if he cared. Ruth, none of us could make you two out If you were engaged why couldn’t you come out and say eo? It was hardly fair, dear.” “That’s just it!” flared Ruth, suddenly sitting upright on the rug. “We But, Jane —I’m ashamed to tell even’ you. He never—asked me right out to be engaged, and still he would not let me out of his sight. And he acted as if he owned me. I knew he was jealous of. Allan, and it came over me that I had been so devoted to Russell that perhaps a little danger of losing me would make him —tell me he — loved me—if he did. I was tired of being neither free nor engaged—l wouldn’t have gone to college at all if —I had been sure—” The girl’s face burned with anger and shame. “Well, he just wrote one horrid little note. I know I acted scandalously that night—and his last night, too. He was to take me home—and I went with Allan right under his eyes. All he said in the note was that he had a little self-respect—as well as a heart, and that he would not be played with, and whin I wanted him would I please send for him! Imagine me sending for him!” Janie gave a soft littlo laugh before she spoke. “If he hadn’t cared desperately he wouldn’t have dared to be so ruee. He came home this morning—did you see the paper? Perhaps he will come to see yob. Of course he will." Ruth shook her head. “Constance wrote me from Cambridge that he’s been simply devoted to that Sylvia White —simply devoted! I wish I didn’t care—l despise myself because I do—l’m sorry I came home. I can’t be natural—and I certainly don’t propose to make any advances. If he does call, I shall not see him —but he won’t! Oh, Janie, do you think he will?” Janie rose and pulled her slater to her feet, and drew her down to her own room. "Of course he will —and you will see him. The world knows how he’s been at your beck and call wince you were in kindergarten. And 1 want you to take a hot bath, lie down a while, and put on your rose-colored dress, for it’s certain that come of the girls will be here before the afternoon's past Do as I say—you’ll feel better Just for having talked it over. And you are largely to blame, you know.” Jane coaxed the girl to do her bidding. and after her nap fastened her into the pretty gown. She, herself, had on her street things, and prepared to go. “Ruth, I’ve to do some errands for mother. She Is sleeping—she’s tired out. And Nellie Is helping cook. Would you mind answering the tele-

phone? There’s nobody to do it until 1 get back. Be good. And while I’m gone think of the grand time you had at school with Orville Metcalf and several others —suppose some one wrote Russell about it? Did you think of that?” v This was a new idea. Ruth had, indeed, had the merriest of times, for all her inward heart-wearlneps, at the coed college where she had been so popular. She sat down in a big chair and' closed her eyes, and thought what a dear sister Janie was, and how comforting it had been to speak the old trouble out. But she could never send for Russell —he would have to come himself. She had ’ not told Janie that she had answered his note with a worse one, saying that she didn’t care whether she ever saw him again or not, and would certainly die before she would send for him under any circumstances. It had been a very young, angry little note—-but Russell was young and angry, too. She fell into a half doze. : ‘ Presently she was aware of the doorbell, for which she was not responsible. A little later the telephone whirred and she sprang to answer it, excitedly. Suppose he should call her up? But It was only Janie, Would Ruth run to the little sitting room upstairs and see if she had left the windows open?—Janie feared that she had. That was aIL Ruth went soberly along the hall, rather vexed with' her sister. Nobody used that room much, and She thought the errand stupid. What had Janie been doing in there? She opened the door, and the full blaze of the low sun struck her eyes, almost blinding her. She stood there blinking a moment, very sweet and slender and flushed in her rose dress, before she saw that a big fire burned in the fireplace, and that a man rose from a chair -and came toward her. “Ruthie—Ruthie—are you going to forgive me?' It was Russell, but tor a moment she could not understand, and then she began softly to weep, the tears falling like a child’s down her cheeks. He took her into his arms, soothing and comforting her. Asking her if she did love him, whether she would not marry him —though he knew he didn’t deserve it He gave her no chance for a word until he had poured out all his heart But as she clung to him he knew that he had his answer, even before he made her say he was forgiven. “I was —horrid last fall, Ruthie, but it was because I was desperate. You see I, had promised both my father and yours that I would not say a word to you until we had been away from each other at school a year. They wanted us to be sure—and they would not have you bound. They were right, I suppose, but it put me in a bad position. I could not have a right to you—and yet—l could not stand to have you act so with Allan—” Ruth pulled away from him. “That was —hideous of me—but what could I do? Follow meekly about, letting you monopolize me — and—nothing doing? It’s a horrid way to put it —but the girls all teased to know if we were engaged—and I had to show them I didn’t care. You can see how it was. But—l do —I always have—cared, Russell —you know that —” Pride made no difference now. "It was like you, Ruth, to be forgiving and call me up. I was just starting out for the house to come here, anyway, when they called jne back to the ‘phone. I’m sure mother thought I was insane, I was so happy and relieved —” “What do you mean—l never called you—l wouldn’t if I died —” “No, you precious goose,” said Janie impudently from the doorway. “I’m glad our voices are so much alike. My, didn’t he bite! I may be a fibber, but I’m not a gooselike you two —and I have no pride, personal or family, where it’s a matter of life and death. I am so glad you are out of one kind of misery—and into another! Shall I tell mother you’ll stay for dinner, Russell?" "Tell her anything—so long as you clear out. Janie. You’re a nice person, but I really don’t want you just now, though 1 do owe you thanks for two. Shut the door after you!” Janie went, and went singing. She met her mother on the stairs, and hugged her outrageously. “Ruthle’s all right—they had a silly quarrel, and they’re making It up. Russell will be here to dinner. He is still sufficiently on the earth to consent to take food!" She danced away down the hall, and- the load lifted from the mother’s heart. Then she sighed—she bad no wish to lose her daughter, even by a happy marriage.