"I have to, and when you have to you do," replied Jennie, somewhat incoherently. "I make a very good income out of my verse, though what I get is not what it ought to be. Why, some of my songs have made thousands of pounds, but of course the publisher and composer share that between them. I only get ten guineas or so."
"What a shame!"
"Yes, isn't it. However, I don't want to talk about myself, except to thank you for giving me such a perfectly lovely Christmas. As to your refusal of Mr. Heron, I am sure you are wrong."
"I don't think so. But if I were it would be perfectly easy to whistle him back. At present I intend to marry Neil, and he is going to ask my father's consent to-night, or to-morrow. If there is trouble you shall see how I stand up for him. You write romances, Jennie, I act them." And with a rustle of silken skirts Ruth vanished.
Jennie sighed as she once more took up her pen. It did seem hard that this girl should have all the money, all the looks, and the chance of becoming the Master's wife. Mis Brawn was not an envious person, as we have said, but she could not help grudging Ruth the favours of Fortune which she seemed to value so little.
The Christmas dinner passed off that night in the orthodox fashion. Mr. Cass made the usual speech; the usual compliments were exchanged, and the usual reminiscences indulged in. It was quite a family gathering, save that Mr. Cass's eldest daughter was absent. She was married, and had elected to stay with her husband in London. As a matter of fact, Mrs. Chisel--such was her name--could not approach her sister in the matter of looks, and being of a jealous nature did not like--to use an expressive, if somewhat vulgar, phrase--to take a back seat. Ruth was always the recipient of all the admiration and all the attention, so her sister preferred to stay in a circle wherein her own looks could ensure her a certain amount of queendom. Mr. Cass referred to her absence, drank her health, and considered that he had done his duty.
But he had yet another duty to perform towards his unmarried daughter. It was his intention to speak to Neil Webster that night, and, once and for all, put an end to any hopes that young man might cherish with regard to Ruth. She was the apple on the topmost bough which he could not hope to gather; and it would be as well to inform him of this fact at once. Mr. Cass was, in the main, a kindly man, and, for reasons best known to himself, was well disposed towards Neil. He hated to make trouble at this season of peace and goodwill. But the imminence of the danger forced him on. Besides, he had given a promise to his sister Inez, and he knew very well she would allow him no rest until he had done what she desired.
"How dull you are to-night," whispered Ruth to Neil in the winter garden after dinner. "What is the matter?"
"Nothing. I went out for a walk to-day and I am rather tired."
"Were you caught in the snow?"