He had made his mark in his preparatory school and college in several lines of athletics. But a boy in his position would scarcely become a professional baseball player or pull an oar for a living. To tell the truth, Tom had never shown much aptitude for his father’s business. Dry goods did not interest him.
Yet when he had come home after the armistice Ruth thought he was going to buckle right down to business with Mr. Cameron’s firm. There seemed to be a super-abundant supply of energy in Tom that had to be worked off. And Ruth thought it would be worked off properly under the yoke of business. Besides, Mr. Cameron was getting no younger, and he ought to have the support of his only son in business affairs.
But the last winter, since Ruth and the Cameron twins had returned from the Northwest, things had not gone with Tom quite as the girl of the Red Mill would have chosen.
Yet she felt that it was not really her business to interfere. Indeed, she did not purpose to interfere. If she undertook to advise Tom it would please him only too well—that she knew, of course.
For Tom considered Ruth quite as much his property as Helen—only in a slightly different way. And if Ruth showed in any manner that she considered Tom her property—well, it would be all off, to use one of Helen’s favorite expressions.
There was no engagement between Ruth and Tom—not even a tacitly recognized one. In times of stress and need Tom had proved himself to be a very good friend indeed, and Ruth fully appreciated this. But during this past winter he had been somewhat spoiled—or so the girl thought.
In the first place, Helen was determined to make a hero of her handsome brother. Captain Cameron was pushed to the fore by his sister in every possible way and manner. Helen had many gay friends in New York—she had met them through the Stones, for Helen had often been with Jennie when Ruth was elsewhere and more seriously engaged.
Naturally Tom had been one with his sister in gay parties, dances, theater groups, supper crowds, and all the rest. Business had gone by the board with Tom; and before Ruth realized it the young returned soldier had lapsed into a butterfly existence that busy Ruth did not approve. Especially, did she believe, was such an aimless life bad for Tom Cameron.
She met him in the living room of the bungalow, however, with her usual warmth; perhaps “lack of warmth” would be the better expression. For although Ruth was always quietly cordial with most people, she was never “hail fellow, well met” with anybody, unless it was her own, dear, old girl friends of Briarwood Hall.
She resisted, however, making any criticism upon Tom’s presence in the moving picture camp. Everybody in the house—and there were several members of the company there besides Mr. Hammond and the director—greeted Tom Cameron cordially. He was a favorite with them all.