"Nay, nay, it has not come to that as yet," he said, "and, mayhap, never will."

"Oh, father, how good you are!"

In her pa.s.sionate grat.i.tude the girl might have shaken the wounded man too sorely, for her arms were around him, and her face was pressed close to his; but even then she was thoughtful, and, lifting her face, said, with a sort of triumph:

"You see, G.o.dmother, how impossible it is that this story can be anything but scandal?"

"Scandal? But Sir Noel believes it," answered the puzzled dame.

"No! no!"

"But he does, and Lady Rose was consulting with me this very day about the present she would give. I never saw her so interested in anything."

"She is very good," said Ruth, with bitter dryness.

"Indeed she is. A sweeter or more kindly young lady never lived. 'The Rest' would be gloomy enough without her."

"I suppose you all think so?" questioned Ruth, with feverish anxiety.

"It would be strange if we did not. I'm sure Sir Noel loves her as if she was his own child, which, please G.o.d, she will be some of these days."

"G.o.dmother! G.o.dmother! don't make me hate you!"

"Hoity-toity! What is the meaning of this? I didn't think there was so much temper in the child. Why, she is all afire! Oh, friend Jessup!

friend Jessup! this comes of rearing her all by yourself! If you had sent her to me at 'The Rest,' a little wholesome discipline would have made such rough words to her mother's friend impossible!"

Ruth dashed the tears from her eyes, and held out both her hands.

"G.o.dmother, forgive me! I am so sorry!"

Mrs. Mason turned half away from that imploring face.

"I was wrong--so wrong."

"To talk about hating me. The child she laid in my bosom almost in her dying hour."

"The wicked, cruel child! Oh, if you only knew how sorry she is!

G.o.dmother, oh, G.o.dmother, forgive me for her sake!"

Mrs. Mason wheeled round, and gathered the penitent young creature to her bosom; then turning her head, she saw that Jessup was greatly excited and had struggled up from his pillow.

"There, there! Lie down again. This is no affair of yours," she said, hastily waving her hand, which ended in a shake for the pretty offender. "Can't I have a word with my own G.o.ddaughter without bringing you up from your bed, as if something terrible was going on?

Looking like a pale-faced ghost, too! No wonder the poor child gets nervous. I dare say you just worry her to death."

"No, no! G.o.dmother! He is patient as a lamb," cried Ruth. "Don't blame him for my fault."

"Fault! What fault is there? Just as if a poor child can't speak once in a while, without being blamed for it. I never knew anything so unreasonable as men are--magnifying mole-hills into mountains. There now, go and sit by the window while I bring your exasperating father to something like reason. No one shall make you cry again, if I know it."

Ruth went to the window, rather bewildered by the suddenness with which the good housekeeper had shifted the point of her resentment to the invalid on the bed. But Mrs. Mason seemed to have entirely forgotten that she had been sharply dealt with. Seating herself on the bed, which creaked complainingly under her weight, and settling her black dress with a great rustle of silk, she dropped into the most cordial relations with the invalid at once.

"Better and getting up bravely. I can see that. Sir Noel will be more than glad to hear it. As for the young master, I know the thought of you is never out of his mind. 'When shall I be well enough to walk out?' he says, each day, to the surgeon. 'There was another hurt at the same time with me, and I want to know how he is getting on.'"

"Did he say that, did he?" questioned Jessup, with tears in his eyes; for sickness had made him weak as a child, and at such times tear-drops come to the strongest eyes tenderly as dew falls. "Did he mention me in that way?"

"He did, indeed. Often and often."

"G.o.d bless the lad. How could I ever think--"

Jessup broke off, and looked keenly at the housekeeper, as if fearful of having said too much. But she had heard the blessing, without regard to the half-uttered conclusion, and echoed it heartily.

"So say I. G.o.d bless the young gentleman! For a braver or a brighter never reigned at 'The Rest,' since its first wall was laid. Well, well! what is it now?" she added, addressing Ruth, who had left the window, and was stealing an arm around her neck.

"Nothing, G.o.dmother, only I love to hear you talk."

"Well, we were speaking, I think, of the young master. It was he that persuaded me to come here, and observe for myself how you were getting on."

"Did he indeed?" murmured Ruth, laying her burning cheek lovingly against the old lady's.

"Yes, indeed. The weather is over warm for much walking; but how could I say no when he would trust only me? 'Women,' he said, 'took so much more notice, being used to sick-rooms,' and he could not rest without news of your father--something more than 'he is better, or he is worse,' which could only be got from a person constantly in the sick-room."

"How anxious! I--I--How kind he is!" said Ruth.

"That he is. Had Jessup been akin to him, instead of a faithful old servant, he couldn't have shown more feeling."

Ruth sighed, and her sweet face brightened. The housekeeper went on.

"We were by ourselves when he said this, and spoke of the old times when I could refuse him nothing, in a way that went to my heart, for it was the truth. So I just kissed his hand--once it would have been his face--and promised to come and have a chat with you, and see for myself how it was with Jessup."

"You will say how much better he is."

"Yes, yes! He seems to be getting on famously. No reason for anxiety, as I shall tell him. Now, Ruth, as your father seems quiet, let us go down into the garden. I was to bring some fruit from the strawberry-beds, which he craves, thinking it better than ours."

"Go with her, and pick the finest," said Jessup. "I feel like sleeping."

"Yes, father, if you can spare me."

The housekeeper moved toward the door, having shaken hands with Jessup, cautioned him against taking cold, and recommending a free use of port wine and other strengthening drinks, which, she a.s.sured him, would set him up sooner than all the medicines in the world.

CHAPTER XLV.

EXCELLENT ADVICE.

When once in the garden, Mrs. Mason grew very serious, and stood some time in silence watching Ruth, who, bending low, was sweeping the green leaves from a host of plump berries, cl.u.s.tering red ripe in the sunshine. At last she spoke, with an effort, and her voice was abrupt if not severe.