Part 19 (1/2)

Richard Kendrick not only took off his hat but waved it with a gesture of entreaty, as he quickened his steps, and Ruth, much excited by the encounter, bade Thomas stop the horses.

”Would you take a pa.s.senger?” he asked as he came up; ”unless, of course, you're going to stop for some one else?”

”Do get in,” she urged shyly. ”No, I'm all alone--going on an errand.”

”I guessed it--not the errand, but the being alone. You looked so small, wrapped up in all these furs, I felt you needed company,” explained Richard, smiling down into the animated young face, with its delicate colour showing fresh and fair in the frosty air. There was something very attractive to the young man in this girl, who seemed to him the embodiment of sweetness and purity. He never saw her without feeling that he would have liked just such a little sister. He would have done much to please her, quite as he had followed her suggestion about the church-going on Christmas Day.

”I'm rus.h.i.+ng down to find a scarf of a certain colour for Rob,”

explained Ruth, too full of her commission to keep it to herself. ”You see, she's playing _Katherine_ to-night. The girl who was to have played it--Ethel Revell--is ill. Do you know any of Miss Copeland's girls?

Olivia Cartwright plays _Petruchio_.”

”Olivia Cartwright? Is she to be in some play? She's a distant cousin of mine.”

”It's a school play--Miss Copeland's school, where Rob teaches, you know. The play is to be in the Stuart Hendersons' ballroom.” And Ruth made known the situation to a listener who gave her his undivided attention.

”Well, well,--seems to me I should have had an invitation for that play,” mused Richard, searching his memory. ”I wish I'd had one. I should like to see your sister act _Katherine_. I suppose it's quite impossible to get one at this late hour?”

”I'm afraid so. It's really not at all strange that any one is left out of the list of invitations,” Ruth hastened to make clear. ”You see, each girl is allowed only six, and that usually takes just her family or nearest friends. And if you are only a distant cousin of Olivia's--”

”It's not at all strange that she shouldn't ask me, for I'm afraid I've neglected to avail myself of former invitations of hers,” admitted Richard, ruefully. ”Too bad. Punishment for such neglect usually follows--and I certainly have it now. I know the Stuart Hendersons, though--I wonder--Never mind, Miss Ruth, don't look so sorry. You'll tell me about it afterward, some time, won't you?”

”Indeed I will. Oh, it's been such an exciting day. Rob's been rehearsing her lines all day--when she wasn't trying on. She says she could have played _Petruchio_ much better, because she's had to coach Olivia Cartwright for that part so much more than she's had to coach Ethel for _Katherine_. But, then, she knows the whole play--she could take any part. She would have loved to play _Petruchio_, though, on account of the boots and the slas.h.i.+ng round the stage the way he does.

But I think it's just as well, for _Katherine_ certainly slashes, too--and Rob's not quite tall enough for _Petruchio_.”

”I'm glad she plays _Katherine_,” said Richard Kendrick decidedly. ”I can't imagine your sister in boots! I've no doubt, though, she'd make them different from other boots--if she wore them!”

”Of course she would,” agreed Ruth. Then she began to talk about something else, for a bit of fear had come into her mind that Rob wouldn't enjoy all this discussion of herself, if she should know about it.

She was such an honest young person, however, that she had a good deal of difficulty, when she had done her errand and was at home again, in not telling Roberta of her meeting with Richard Kendrick. She did venture to ask a question.

”Is Mr. Kendrick invited for to-night, Rob?”

”Not by me,” Roberta responded promptly.

”He might be, by one of the girls, I suppose?”

”The girls invite whom they like. I haven't seen the list. I don't imagine he would be on it. I hope not, certainly.”

”Why? Don't you think he would enjoy it?”

”No, I do not. Musical comedies are probably more to his taste than amateur productions of Shakespeare. But I'm not thinking about the audience--the players are enough for me.” Then, suddenly, an idea which flashed into her mind caused her to turn and scan Ruth's ingenuous young face.

”You haven't been inviting Mr. Kendrick yourself, Rufus?”

”Why, how could I?” But the girl flushed rosily in a way which betrayed her interest. ”I just--wondered.”

”How did you come to wonder? Have you seen him?”

Ruth being Ruth, there was nothing to do but to tell Roberta of the encounter with Richard. ”He said he was glad you were to play _Katherine_, because he couldn't imagine you in boots,” she added, hoping this news might appease her sister. But it did nothing of the sort.