CHAPTER VII.
THE DOUBLE ENGAGEMENT.
Ruth and Ralph were alone on the cosy little veranda of the Cornwallis cottage. It was a beautiful evening in June—full of moonlight, star-light and rose-fragrance and so heavenly still that they could have heard the beatings of each other’s hearts; and very likely they did, for they were sitting side by side in lover-like proximity. There was an indefinable but easily understood something about their movements and attitude that said as plainly as words could have told it: “We are engaged and are going to be married before many a day goes by.”
“O, these perfect June evenings!” exclaimed Ruth in a voice of soft rapture. “But how swiftly they are flying! Only think of it, Ralph! a week from next Tuesday will be the Fourth of July! The dreadful, horrible Fourth! I heard the first shot today. It went straight through my heart. O, the fright and agony! How I wish it were all over with and yet I dread its coming as I would that of a monstrous bloodthirsty army.”
“Where shall we go to be rid of it, Ruth, and celebrate our own independence? To Star Lake, Moon Island or Canada?”
“Never again to Canada, Ralph! I haven’t told you our experience there last year—that is, not all of it.”
“You told me about the Bearington boys and the fireworks that were not funny.”
“Yes, but I did not tell you the talk at the breakfast table before the fracas began. Papa begged me not to talk about it, but I feel as though I can tell you now, and will.”
“Of course you can, and you will tell me everything,” laughed Ralph. “We are all one now, that makes a delightful difference.” But she had no sooner told him of Jordan’s joke at their expense than he exclaimed angrily:
“Ridiculous defeat! O the brute! How I wish I had been there to answer him. He insulted you and the country at the same time.”