The avowal was not made with the conventional confusion and trembling.
Mrs. Levice was startled by the dead calm of her manner.
“You say that as if it were a daily occurrence for a man like Louis Arnold to offer you his hand and name.”
“I hope not.”
“But you do. I confess I think you are not one tenth as excited as I am. Why didn’t you tell me before? Any other girl would have sat up to tell her mother in the night. Oh, Ruth darling, I am so glad. I have been looking forward to this ever since you grew up. What did you mean by saying you wished to wait till you had decided? Decided what?”
“Upon my answer.”
“As if you could question it, you fortunate girl! Or were you waiting for me to help you to it? I scarcely need tell you how you have been honored.”
“Honor is not everything, Mamma.”
At that moment a desperate longing for her mother’s sympathy seized her; but the next minute the knowledge of the needless sorrow it would occasion came to her, and her lips remained closed.
“No,” responded her mother, “and you have more than that; surely Louis did not neglect to tell you.”