“Mother, if thee thinks thee is well enough to be left, I would like to take a run up to the farm and see with my own eyes if anything is amiss.”
“Go, if thee likes, my child. I am certainly well enough; besides, in this kind family are many willing hands to do for me the slightest service I may require. The young serving-woman that has charge of our rooms appears to be fond of me. If her mistress is willing, thee might engage her to look after me in thy absence, and then both thee and I would feel safe and independent. As much as one human being can ever be independent of the souls around him,” concluded the dear old lady, gravely.
So it was settled; and, hoping to be away from her post of love and duty but for a little while, Ruth Kinsolving tied on her gray bonnet, and pinned her gray shawl about her shapely shoulders, and set off for home.
Some days had passed since Octave’s disappearance in a “Mystery,” and her no less strange reappearance with “Him”; but no explanation had she vouchsafed of the affair, and the curiosity which had succeeded anxiety remained in the breasts of the other young householders, to torment them with ever-growing strength.
Paula had written several letters to Aunt Ruth on the subject, but she was prudent and thoughtful by nature, and the recollection that no harm seemed to have come of the adventure, and that Aunt Ruth was easily disturbed, had restrained her from posting them. They still reposed in the bottom of her pretty writing-desk, ready for dispatching whenever it should seem advisable.
Even Content had been moved to interference, and had urged Octave first, and afterward Melville, to disclose the “Mystery”; but to all persuasions the “conspirators” turned a deaf ear.
“And won’t you tell me, if I promise never-no-never-s’long’s-I-live to tell nobody else?” asked little Fritz, coaxingly. “Where’d you go to, Octave, and who was the old man what came home with you?”
“Oh, I couldn’t tell, any how you fix it, dearie. I’ve promised Melville, and he’s promised me; but by and by everybody will know. You must all be patient. Grandmother says that ‘patience is a virtue.’”
“Does grandmother know?”
“No, indeed; that is, not about this.”