CHAPTER XXII
INTO WHICH A GIRL’S TROUBLE COMES
Uncle Jepson and Aunt Martha had not seen Masten when he had visited Ruth, for they had gone in the buckboard to Red Rock. And Masten had departed when they reached home. Nor did they see Ruth after they arrived, for she had gone to bed. But at the breakfast table Ruth told them of the visit of Masten and of her plan to advance the date of the marriage.
Uncle Jepson and Aunt Martha received the news in silence. Aunt Martha did manage to proffer a half-hearted congratulation, but Uncle Jepson wrinkled his nose, as he did always when displeased, and said nothing; and he ate lightly. Ruth did not notice that she had spoiled his appetite, nor did she note with more than casual interest that he left the table long before she or Aunt Martha. She did not see him, standing at the corral fence, scowling, and she could not hear the old-fashioned profanity that gushed from his lips.
“Aren’t you glad?” Ruth asked Aunt Martha when they were alone, for she had noted her relative’s lack of enthusiasm.
“Why, yes, honey,” Aunt Martha smiled at her, though it seemed forced. “Only—” She hesitated eloquently.
“Only what, Aunt Martha?” Ruth’s voice was a little sharp, as with all persons who act in opposition to her better judgment and who resent anyone understanding them.
“Only I was hoping it would be Randerson, my dear,” said Aunt Martha gently.
“Randerson!” Ruth’s voice was scornful. But it sounded insincere to her, and she would trust it no further.
“Honey!” Aunt Martha’s arm was around her, and Aunt Martha’s sympathetic and knowing eyes were compelling hers; and her voice was ineffably gentle. “Are you sure, honey, that you don’t wish it were Randerson? It is a great event in your life, dear, and once it is done, it can’t be undone. Don’t be hasty.”