“I don’t recollect you,” said Ruth, hesitating, and blushing slightly; “you have the advantage of me, sir?”
“And yet you and I have been writing to each other, for a week or more,” replied the gentleman, with a good-humored smile; “you have even signed a contract, entitling me to your pen-and-ink services.”
“Mr. Walter?” said Ruth, holding out her hand.
“Yes,” replied Mr. Walter, “I had business this way, and I could not come here without finding you out.”
“Oh, thank you,” said Ruth, “I was just wishing that I had some head wiser than mine, to help me decide on a business matter which came up two or three days ago. Somehow I don’t feel the least reluctance to bore you with it, or a doubt that your advice will not be just the thing; but I shall not stop to dissect the philosophy of that feeling, lest in grasping at the shadow, I should lose the substance,” said she, smiling.
While Ruth was talking, Mr. Walter’s keen eye glanced about the room, noting its general comfortless appearance, and the little bowl of bread and milk that stood waiting for their supper. Ruth observed this, and blushed deeply. When she looked again at Mr. Walter, his eyes were glistening with tears.
“Come here, my darling,” said he to Nettie, trying to hide his emotion.
“I don’t know you,” answered Nettie.
“But you will, my dear, because I am your mamma’s friend.”