Part 15 (1/2)

Occasionally Uncle Rufus ”threw in a word” in conversation which sounded euphonious in his own ears, but had little to do with the real meaning of his speech.

n.o.body whispered ”rats” to the little girls; and Tess and Dot scarcely let Sandy and the remaining kitten out of their sight. It was a windy, storm-stricken day, and they took the mother cat and Spotty up to Aunt Sarah's room to play.

Ruth put on her rain-coat, seized an umbrella, and ventured forth. She knew she could find her way to Mr. Howbridge's office, down town, although she had never visited it before.

The lawyer was very glad to see the oldest Corner House girl, and told her so. ”I am hearing some good reports of you, Miss Kenway,” he said, smiling at her in his odd way, and with his keen eyes looking sharply over the high bridge of his nose, as though he were gazing deep into Ruth's mind.

”Some of these Milton people think that you girls need closer watching than you are getting. So they say. What do you think? Do you feel the need of a sterner guardian?”

”I think you are a very nice guardian,” admitted Ruth, shyly. ”And we are having awfully nice times up there at the old Corner House, Mr.

Howbridge. I hope we are not spending too much money?”

He put on his eyegla.s.ses again and scanned the totals of the store bills and other memoranda she had brought him. He shook his head and smiled again:

”I believe you are a born housekeeper. Of course, I knew that Mrs.

McCall wouldn't let you go far wrong. But I see no evidence of a lack of economy on your part. And now, we must see about your spending some more money, Miss Kenway.”

”Oh! it seems like a lot to me,” said Ruth, faintly. ”And-and I must tell you something perhaps you won't like. We-we have an addition to the family.”

”How's that?” he asked, in surprise.

”We-we have Uncle Rufus,” explained Ruth.

”What! has that old darkey come bothering you?”

”Oh! he isn't a bother. Not at all. I thought he was too old to do much, but he is _so_ handy-and he finds so many little things to do.

And then--Why, Mr. Howbridge! it's just like home to him.”

”Ha! Undoubtedly. And so he told you? Worked on your feelings? You are going to have the whole family on you, next. You will have more wages to pay out than the estate will stand.”

”Dear me, sir!” cried Ruth. ”Don't say that. I am not paying Uncle Rufus a penny. I told him I couldn't-until I had seen you about it, at least. And he is willing to stay anyhow-so he says.”

”I don't know about that old darkey,” said Mr. Howbridge, slowly. ”I believe he knew more about Mr. Peter Stower's private affairs than he seemed willing to tell the time I talked to him after your Uncle Peter's death. I don't know about your keeping him there.”

”Do you think he may know where Uncle Peter hid his private papers, sir?” asked Ruth, eagerly.

”Yes, I do. He's an ignorant old negro. He might get the papers into his hands, and the will might be lost forever.”

”Oh, sir!” cried Ruth, earnestly, ”I don't think Uncle Rufus is at all dishonest. I asked him about Uncle Peter's hiding away things. He knows what folks say about uncle's being a miser.”

”Well?” said Mr. Howbridge, questioningly.

”Uncle Rufus says he knows his old master was that way. Aunt Sarah says Uncle Peter was just like a magpie-that he hid away things without any real reason for it.”

”Ha! Miss Maltby was not fond of Mr. Peter Stower. They did not get along well together.”

”No, sir. I fancy not. And of course, Aunt Sarah doesn't say much, anyway. She is real hurt to think that he did not leave her the house and money instead of leaving it to us,” and Ruth sighed.

”Oh, he left her enough in his will to keep her in comfort for the remainder of her life. She need not be envious,” said the lawyer, carelessly.