“Oh, Miss Ruth, ain’t you afraid? It’s a awful night, and black as pitch, and you all alone?” asked one, with wide, frightened eyes.
“I am not afraid,” said the girl, a great calmness in her voice as she spoke above her mother’s sobbing; “stay and try to quiet her. I shall not be gone long.”
She flew into her room, drew on her overshoes and mackintosh, grasped a sealskin hood, which she tied securely under her chin, and went out into the howling, raging night.
She had but a few blocks to go, but under ordinary circumstances the undertaking would have been disagreeable enough. The rain came down in heavy, wild torrents; the wind roared madly, wrapping her skirts around her limbs and making walking almost an impossibility; the darkness was impenetrable save for the sickly, quavering light shed by the few street-lamps, as far apart as angel visitants. Lowering her head and keeping her figure as erect as possible, she struggled bravely on. She met scarcely any one, and those she did meet occasioned her little uneasiness in the flood of unusual emotions that overwhelmed her soul. At any other time the thought of her destination would have blotted out every other perception; now this was but one of many shuddering visions. Trouble was making her hard; life could offer her little that would find her unequal to the test. Down the broad, deserted avenue, with its dark, imposing mansions, she hurried as if she were alone in the havocking elements. The rain beat her and lashed her in the face; she faced it unflinchingly as a small part of her trials. Without a tremor she ran up Dr. Kemp’s steps. It was only when she stood with her finger on the bell-button that she realized whom she was about to encounter. Then for the first time she gave one long sob of self-recollection, and pushed the button.
Burke almost immediately opened the door. Ruth had no intention of entering; it would be sufficient to leave her message and hurry home.
“Who’s there?” asked Burke, peering out into the darkness. “It’s a divil of a night for any one but—”
“Is Dr. Kemp in?” The sweet woman-voice so startled him that he opened the door wide.
“Come in, mum,” he said apologetically; “come in out of the night.”
“No. Is the doctor in?”
“I don’t know,” he grumbled, “and I can’t stand here with the door open.”