“That’s just what I wanted to do,” replied Jim, “only I was most afraid you would not care to. We haven’t had a good walk in a long time.”
They walked on silently as the streets were so crowded and there was lots to see, and the crossings required much attention, these two not being used to the busy streets of New York, where one has to look in all directions at once and keep moving lively to avoid being run into by the many automobiles or trucks that are hurrying along.
Finally Dorothy, observing the number on the houses, said: “Here we are, this is the house.”
Up the steps they ran and Jim gave the old-fashioned bell a vigorous pull. “Ting-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling,” vaguely sounded from somewhere within and presently a pleasant faced young girl with white cap and apron and dark dress, said in a low voice, “Whom do you wish to see?”
Jim answered, “Will you tell Miss Boothington that Miss Dorothy Calvert wishes to see her?”
Slowly they followed the neat maid into the old fashioned parlor and waited there for her to take the message to Ruth.
“Oh, Jim,” whispered Dorothy, very softly putting her hand on Jim’s arm. “Jim, if I were you I should love to stay here. It is more like a home, a real home than any place I have been in, in the big city.”
“Yes, it is. And it is so quiet and restful. I do hope there will be room for me here,” answered Jim.
Just then they heard foot-steps on the stairs and in a second Ruth’s cheery voice greeted them with a “Hello!” from the hall.