Presently she turned her eyes up to Hilda's face, lifted a white, blue-veined, almost transparent hand, and touched Hilda's face. "I"—she seemed to have difficulty to find a word, but she smiled like a tiny little girl—"I—LIKE you," she said, triumphantly. "I'm—sorry you came—but I—like you."
"Yes, dear," said Hilda. "You'd BETTER like me."
"But," said Ruth, evidently striving to express a differentiation,
"I—LOVE him."
Hilda said nothing; there was nothing she could say, but her eyes brimmed at the pitifulness of it. She abhorred tears.
"I'm going now, dear," she said. "I'll fix things for you and be back in no time to take you home with me…. So be all ready."
"No…" said Ruth.
"Yes," Hilda laughed. "You'll help, won't you, Mrs. Moody?"
"Hain't no way out of it, I calc'late," said the woman.
"I won't be half an hour, Ruth… Good-by."
But Ruth had turned away her face and would not answer.