"Ruth!" Aunt Inez threw up her hands in horror. "How dare you speak like this? A low gypsy--a tramp--and you a young lady! And pray where did you learn the gypsy language?"
"At school, and out of it. I got a gypsy woman to teach me. But I do not see why you should forbid me to associate with Job, aunt. You are doing so yourself."
"I!" exclaimed that lady, with something of defiance in her manner. "But I have taken this poor man under my protection, and I intend to make him comfortable."
Ruth did not reply immediately. Then she looked up:
"Last time I was here you watched me, Aunt Inez," she said, slowly.
"Perhaps I did--perhaps I did not," replied that lady, coldly. She scorned to tell a lie, and refused to own the truth.
"Then you know what I found here--under the window?"
Job looked up eagerly and exchanged a glance with Mrs. Marshall. But that clever lady preserved an imperturbable countenance. "What you found, my dear, is of no consequence to me," she said, impatiently, and rose to her feet.
"It is more to the purpose that we should be going. I will arrange about your weekly money," she said, turning to Job.
"Thank you, lady," said the gypsy, gratefully. "You are a real good sort. I won't trouble you long, though. I'm booked before the year is out."