"I will use it every day at table," she said.
Then, after whispering to Miss Hester, she left the room and returned with a red silk handkerchief which Dr. Peaslee had once brought her after a visit to the city.
"I want you to have this to remember me by," she said to Billy, and he accepted the gift solemnly.
At last the little trunk was packed and stood waiting.
Then Ruth went to make some hurried farewell calls. To all inquiries, she replied that she was going to her uncle's to make a visit, but that she expected to be back soon. So often did she repeat this that she persuaded herself it must be true until the last moment when the possibility of its not being merely a visit faced her, and she flung herself into Miss Hester's arms in a passion of weeping.
"I—don't want to go. I—I don't want to go," she sobbed.
"You needn't, dear, you needn't," whispered Miss Hester herself feeling very heavy hearted.
But just then Billy came rushing in shouting: "He's come in a carriage, Ruth, to take you to the station."
And the dignity of such a departure for the moment caused Ruth to check her tears. It would be a triumphant exit, she considered. And after one last frantic hug and the passionate reiteration, "I am coming back soon, I am, I am," she obeyed her uncle's call and was helped into the carriage, her trunk being already established by the side of the driver. She waved her handkerchief from the carriage window. Her last glimpse of the brown house showed Billy at the gate holding up Stray for her to see. Miss Hester was not in sight. She had gone indoors where no one would observe her tearful eyes.
Soon the carriage turned into the main street. The children were on their way to school, and to Ruth's satisfaction, they passed Nora Petty, to whom Ruth gave a condescending nod. She was riding away into new splendors where Nora could no longer twit and tease her.