Chapter XXXI: The House in the Trees

SO Vincent went back to Riverside with the understanding that he would see Ruth to-morrow before he started for his home. Heston had repaired to the library to study, and the children had long since gone to bed.

Left together, the father and daughter sat very silent at first. And after a while, Ruth got up and came over to her accustomed place and laid her head on her father's shoulder.

"It won't make a bit of difference!" she murmured so softly that he only just heard it.

"I know that, my dear—"

"You are sure that it will not make you unhappy?" she asked, raising her eyes to his face.

"On the contrary, it has made me very happy!"

She nestled her head closer again for reply.

"Why did you not answer him in the autumn?" asked her father smiling a little.

"I did not know—I was taken by surprise, and there was nothing to answer either, father."

"It is a good thing he managed to give you something to answer this time, then! Ruth, I have seen two lives entirely spoilt in my young days, because the man left so much unsaid."

"Who was it?" asked Ruth.

"Nobody you ever heard of. He went abroad, and she has never married. I always feel sad when I think of it."

Ruth could not help thinking how nearly that might have been their lot, and she was glad it had not been.

"I have told Vincent," pursued her father after a pause, in which he had been fondly stroking her flushed cheek, "that I think you too young to be married yet awhile. He is quite willing to wait for two years, and by that time, my dear, we shall have been able, I hope, to find or build two suitable houses near Mr. Brown's works, and Dr. Arundel will have thoroughly taken up the whole of the practice."

"Dear father!"

"I shall make arrangements to retire in a year, I think, that will give us plenty of time. You see, I have been thinking about it for months."

"I did not know that he had spoken to you," said Ruth blushing.

"Yes: it was one of those things I could not speak of. It was better that you should get to understand yourself—and him—without any help from me."

"He wants me to go home with him to be introduced to his mother and father. Do you think I had better go?"

"Certainly. They will want to see you too. And while you are staying there, I will come over and look round at the neighbourhood. Will Brown will be pleased to see me; I have often promised to make acquaintance with his wife, and now she will be your sister!"

"I shall feel dreadfully shy at going among such a lot of strangers—"

"I tell you what, Ruth!" exclaimed her father suddenly. "I will wire to Will Brown to-morrow and ask him if he can have us both, and then you can go and see the Linthorpes from there. You will not feel half so strange then."

"That would be better," said Ruth, raising her head, "but will Norman be all right?"

"There are Judith and Heston to leave in charge," he answered, "and we shall not be away very long. I think he will be happy—"

"Might I ask him? I feel as if he is part of my life now, father!"

"So he is," said Dr. Brown, "but you must go to bed. Oh, my precious, how glad I am that it is all so happily settled."

"Dear father! How good you have been to me," said Ruth as she gave him her good-night kiss.

Then she turned back at the door to say "I am to be allowed to have a peep at Mary to-morrow, am I not?"

"Yes, I hope so. Perhaps you will go down with Vincent?"

"He is not coming till twelve; he said he had something to do he could not put off."

"Then you will go after lunch? I will tell Mrs. Arundel you are coming."

Ruth, with a little help from Judith, Norman, and Mala, was busy all the morning collecting and packing her belongings; for she felt sure that when once her father had decided on going, he would give her but little time before the project was carried out.

She was not mistaken. For before twelve o'clock, Dr. Brown telephoned to her from the town that he had received the answer from his Cousin Will, and they were to go to-morrow.

Ruth laughed with Heston over the promptness, and said that her father evidently thought that she would only want to take a few handkerchiefs! She was flying downstairs on some errand when the front door opened, and Vincent stood there.

He came forward. "It has seemed such a long time!" he exclaimed. "I could not come earlier because I had to go to Worcester."

"To Worcester?" she asked.

He drew her into the drawing-room, and still keeping her hand in his, searched in his waistcoat pocket.

"I have been hoping I might suit your taste, dearest, in choosing this—have I?" He put on her slender finger a ring, and as its stones flashed in the sunshine, he whispered, "Will you let it speak for me when I am away, and tell you I love you!"

"It is beautiful!" said Ruth, glancing up. "I never saw one I liked better."

"I am so glad! I had to be very particular, you see, for such a very dear and dainty little lady!"

"You could not have chosen better," said Ruth; "but how did you guess the size so well?"

"Ah! Mary helped me to that. She said you and she had laughed over her engagement ring once, and you had tried it on—"

"So I did!" exclaimed Ruth, blushing crimson.

"And Mary told me hers was a little large for you, so I guessed the rest."

"You are a wonderful 'guesser,' then," smiled Ruth.

"I've had to take a good many things on trust for a good many months," he said archly.

"Poor Vincent," she said kindly, "I am so sorry; but—"

"Yes, yes, dear, it was my fault. And so Mary and you nearly broke your hearts over it?"

"Nearly," said Ruth gravely, "and I do not know whether Mary has really forgiven me from the bottom of her heart yet."

"Mary does not owe grudges," said Vincent.

"No—she is the dearest, sweetest—but, you see, it was her twin who was made sorry; and it was all so difficult to explain."

But when that afternoon, she bent over Mary and received her kiss, Ruth knew that all was right between them, and that what had been so hard to explain was made clear now.

"My little sister," Mary whispered.

Then she gave a sweet smile as she turned to the pillow by her side. "Am I not rich?" she asked, as she uncovered the little downy head and showed her son. "Arthur says I may call him Vincent! But perhaps I shall have to ask you now?"

Ruth laughed a little as she blushingly said, if she were asked, nothing could please her better.

And then nurse remarked time was up, and Ruth had to go.

Mary caught her hand. "Let me see!" she said archly. "Do you like Vincent's choice?"

"Very much indeed; only it is too beautiful."

"He thinks nothing too beautiful for you," smiled Mary.

So they managed to way-lay Dr. Brown's carriage and to get home for afternoon tea, having arranged together on the way that they would try to devote themselves to the children to-night to let them share as much of their gladness as they might.

The next afternoon, the train bore them both, as well as Dr. Brown, towards Vincent's home.

Mr. Brown's carriage was at the station to meet them, with Willie Brown inside, of whom Ruth had often heard.

"My father is so pleased at your coming," he said, when they were seated and Vincent had gone towards his home; "he says it could not be better. And Alice is pleased too."

Then smiling a little and colouring, he added, "You will be surprised to hear me call my stepmother 'Alice,' but it was her wish. We are the dearest of friends, and I cannot give you an idea of all her goodness and sterling worth. She is sister and mother to me at once, and I love her dearly."

"It is very kind of you to tell us," said Ruth.

"Well—to say the truth, I came on purpose. Alice is thoroughly unselfish, and she makes my father very happy."

"I expect your kindness to her helps," said Ruth. She took a fancy to the young man on the spot.

He shook his head, smiling, and soon they drew up at Mr. Brown's handsome house, and a well-dressed, sweet-looking lady of about thirty came forward to meet them.

"This is dear Ruth, is it?" she asked, kissing the bright, blushing face. "We shall get acquainted soon. You are my cousin now, you know, but by and bye you are to be my sister!"

There was an impression of ease and comfort in the whole air of the house, and when Ruth saw her room, she gave an exclamation of pleasure.

"There!" said Alice, going to the window. "Do you see those poplars, with that red-gabled roof behind them?"

"Yes," said Ruth.

"That is our home—Vincent's home! He is there by this time, telling them all about you."

"I am afraid they may be disappointed in me," said Ruth, looking up in Alice's pleasant face.

"I do not think they will, dear."

"I am so young—and so ignorant—I have no merit except—"

"Except?" asked Alice, smiling.

"Except that we love each other!" she said, and then turned away covered with confusion.

Alice kissed her affectionately, and was just leaving the room, when Ruth looked up once more.

"I do not know why I said all that, but I think it was your kindness, and that you reminded me a little of Mary."

"Do I?"

"Yes—and I want you to know that Vincent and I do not forget Who has given us our happiness; and we have promised each other that loving and serving Him shall be the very first thing with us."