“Oh—but I won't go a step anywhere. I could not leave him now—that is, not as long as I can help him.”
“But aren't you going to the Fosters' and Aunt Felicia's?” She might not be, but it was good all the same to hear her deny it.
“Not to anybody's!” she replied, with an emphasis that left no doubt in his mind.
Jack's heart gave a bound.
“But you were going if we went to Morfordsburg,” he persisted. He was determined to get at the bottom of all his misgivings. Perhaps, after all, Peter was right.
Ruth caught her breath. The name of the town had reopened a vista which her anxiety over her father's affairs had for the moment shut out.
“Well, but that is over now. I am going to stay here and help daddy.” Again the new fear tugged at her heart. “You are going to stay, too, aren't you, Mr. Breen?” she added in quick alarm. “You won't leave him, will you?—not if—” again the terrible money loss rose before her. What if there should not be money enough to pay Jack?
“Me! Why, Miss Ruth!”
“But suppose he was not able to—” she could not frame the rest of the sentence.
“You can't suppose anything that would make me leave him, or the work.” This also came with an emphasis of positive certainty. “I have never been so happy as I have been here. I never knew what it was to be myself. I never knew,” he added in softened tones, “what it was to really live until I joined your father. Only last night Uncle Peter and I were talking about it. 'Stick to Mac,' the dear old fellow said.” It was to Ruth, but he dared not express himself, except in parables. “Then you HAD thought of going?” she asked quickly, a shadow falling across her face.