She smiled, the doctor smiled, they shook hands and both soon went away. Ruth leant her head on her hand. Was there no one who would understand how much she wanted to see the kitchen cat? Would they all talk about fancies? What were Lucy and Cissie and Bobbie to her?—strangers, and the cat was a friend. She would rather stroke its rough head, and listen to its purring song, than have them all to play with. It was so sad to think how it must have missed her, how much she wanted to see it, and how badly her head ached, that she felt obliged to shed a few tears. Nurse discovered this with much concern.
“And there was master coming up to see you to-night and all, Miss Ruth. It’ll never do for him to find you crying, you know. I think you’d better go to bed.”
Ruth looked up with a sudden gleam of hope, and checked her tears.
“When is he coming?” she asked. “I want to see him.”
“Well, I s’pose directly he comes home—about your tea-time. But if I let you sit up we mustn’t have no more tears, you know, else he’ll think you ain’t getting well.”
Ruth sank quietly back among her shawls in the big chair. An idea had darted suddenly into her mind which comforted her very much, and she was too busy with it to cry any more. She would ask her father! True, it was hardly likely that he would have any thoughts to spare for such a small thing as the kitchen cat; but still there was just a faint chance that he would understand better than Nurse and Aunt Clarkson. So she waited with patience, listening anxiously for his knock and the slam of the hall door, and at last, just as Nurse was getting the tea ready, it came. Her heart beat fast. Soon there was a hurried step on the stairs, and her father entered the room. Ruth studied his face earnestly. Was he tired? Was he worried? Would he stay long enough to hear the important question?
He kissed her and sat down near her.
“How is Miss Ruth to-day?” he said rather wearily to Nurse.
Standing stiffly erect behind Ruth’s chair, Nurse Smith repeated all that the doctor and Mrs Clarkson had said.
“And I think myself, sir,” she added, “that Miss Ruth will be all the better of a cheerful change. She worrits herself with fancies.”