But the day and hour came at last when Ruth chanced to be right at hand when Rebecca Frayne came in and unlocked her room door. Her arms were full of small packages. Ruth knew that she had walked all the way to the grocery store on the edge of Greenburg, which the college girls often patronized.
It had been a long, cold walk, and Rebecca's fingers were numb. She dropped a paper bag—and it contained eggs!
Now, it is quite impossible to hide the fact of a dropped egg. At another time Ruth might have laughed; but now she soberly retrieved the paper bag before the broken eggs could do much damage, and stepped into the room after the nervous Rebecca.
"Oh, thank you!" gasped the girl. "Put—put them down anywhere. Thank you!"
"My goodness!" said Ruth, laughing, "you can't put broken eggs down anywhere. Don't you see they are runny?"
"Never mind, Miss Fielding——"
"Oh! you've a regular kitchenette here, haven't you?" said Ruth, emboldened to look behind a curtain. "How cunning. I'll put these eggs in this clean dish. Mercy, but they are scrambled!"
"Don't trouble, Miss Fielding. You are very kind."
"But scrambled eggs are pretty good, at that," Ruth went on, unheeding the other girl's nervousness. "If you can only get the broken shells out of them," and she began coolly to do this with a fork. "I should think you would not like eating alone, Rebecca."
The other girl stared at her. "How can I help it?" she asked harshly.