“From Louis!” she exclaimed delightedly. “Poor fellow! he was dreadfully upset when he came in. He did not say much, but his look and hand-shake were enough as he bent to kiss me. Do you know, Ruth, I think our Louis has a very loving disposition?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Yes. One would not think so, judging from his manner; but I know him to be unusually sympathetic for a man. I would sooner have him for a friend than many a woman; he has not many equals among the young men I know. Don’t you agree with me, girlie?”
“Oh, yes; I always liked Louis.”
“How coldly you say that! And, by the way, it struck me as very queer last night that you did not kiss him after his absence of a week. Since when has this formal hand-shake come into use?”
A slight flush crimsoned Ruth’s cheek.
“It is not my fault,” she said, smiling; “I always kissed Louis even after a day’s absence. But some few months ago he inaugurated the new regime, and holds me at arm’s length. I can’t ask him why, when he looks at me so matter-of-factly through his eyeglass, can I?”
“No; certainly not.” A slight frown marred the complacency of Mrs. Levice’s brow. Such actions were not at all in accordance with her darling plan. Arnold was much to her; but she wished him to be more. This was a side-track upon which she had not wished her train to move.
Her cogitations took a turn when she heard a quick, firm footfall in the hall.
Ruth anticipated the knock, and opened the door to the doctor.