“Oh, don’t say that, Mrs. Carter. It was because they could not spare me—because they were in such trouble, and needed help so much. Even now——”
“Stop a minute, dear. Does your heart go with me?”
“Yes! yes!”
“Will you go with me now? That is, will you let me arrange this with your mother. The people down yonder don’t want your help. I do. My life in that grand mansion is lonely. I haven’t been brought up to reading, and music, and such things. I want some one to write my notes, do my spelling, and sing to Carter—and am ready to pay for it. If you are willing to work for men that sell goods, why not work for me at double the price? I don’t mean to keep you away from home; there needn’t be a day that you can’t come here. Besides, I have an idea about Ruthy. You shall learn to drive the pony-carriage, and take her out every morning. I’ll have an elevator put up in the house, and she shall just be lifted up to Herman’s studio—in fact there’ll be no break up about it. Say now, once for all, will you come?”
“Oh, if you knew how I wish it; but poor Ruthy!”
“She don’t look so terribly troubled,” said Mrs. Carter, glancing at the gentle girl.
“I shall like the rides so much,” said Ruthy. “Then, perhaps, I might see what the Park is like.”
“Of course you shall, with plenty of cushions, and a gentle horse. There can be nothing like it. There now, you see, Eva.”
Eva went close to her sister, knelt down, and laying her cheek against the pale, tremulous face, whispered,
“Sister, darling, could you let me go.”