CHAPTER VI.
LOSSES AND GAINS.
ONE really sunny, good-tempered person has a wonderful effect in a household. Ruth Pryor was the sunny element in the two days of rain outside, and discomforts of unpacking inside the house, which followed the arrival of the first instalment of the party from Maplestone. She smoothed down difficulties; she laughed at her mother-in-law's melancholy forebodings that "the party was too grand for her," and that she, who had lived for so many years with a lady of title—her dear, departed mistress—was not going to put up with "airs" from a young man like Mr. Raymond.
"It takes a time to get used to everything," Ruth said; "they'll settle down right enough, and so Mrs. Stevens thinks. She says her mistress, poor thing, is too broken down to grumble; and I am sure Miss Wilton is a little angel."
"Very untidy, very careless—dropping things here and there; and she has spilled some ink on the tablecloth."
"A mere speck," said Ruth; "you'd need to put on your spectacles to see it; and a green and black cloth does not show spots."
"Not to your eyes, Ruth; you are far too easy. It's a good thing you have no family."
"There now, mother, don't say that," said Ruth, a shadow coming over her round, rosy face. "You know how I fretted when I lost my baby; and Frank, he fretted enough."
"Well, well, you may have a baby yet, only you would find you'd have to be more particular as to bits and pieces strewed everywhere," and Mrs. Pryor stooped to pick up some leaves which Salome had dropped as she filled the two stiff white vases with the Maplestone flowers.