Judson laughed. “What did you think he was, Sis? Some hoodlum I picked off the dock? Why, honey, his father was a well-known sea-captain in the New York trade ... drowned at sea. The boy is very clever and very well educated. His uncle owns a fleet of ships and Donald was an apprentice or cadet on the barque I was mate of. They knocked him about so much on her that I got him to skin aout in Vancouver and come with me. He’s a thorough gentleman in every way and one of the pluckiest and nerviest youngsters I ever was shipmates with. He’s gone through something, that lad!”
When her brother had finished, Ruth looked at him accusingly. “Judson Nickerson,” she said. “I’m vexed with you! You tell me all this when he is going away, and here for almost a month I’ve kept him at a distance thinking he was only a sailor you had hired. We might have had a lot of pleasant evenings here if you hadn’t been so thoughtless. You come home to eat and sleep, and when we are around you kept Mr. McKenzie from getting better acquainted with your eternal ship-and-fish-talk monopolizing his evenings. I—I could beat you, Judson—yes! thrash you well!” And she stamped her foot angrily, while the Skipper stammered excuses and finally laughed at her chagrin. “It took Helena to find aout my friend’s qualities,” he teased. “You judged him by his clothes. He wanted to dress himself up, but I told him to save his money as he didn’t have much. This’ll teach you, Sis, that all my guests are not rough-necks and shellbacks!”
In the parlor, Helena and Donald were entertaining the company by singing and playing, and in the congenial atmosphere the young fellow cast off his reserve. He felt that he was once more picking up the threads of the things he delighted in, but had lost for a space. With generous praise from his audience, admiring glances and expressions from pretty Miss Stuart, and a desire to revenge himself upon Ruth for her neglect and tolerant behavior towards him, he expanded and did his best.
When Ruth came from the kitchen with her brother and noticed the friendly intimacy of the two young people at the piano, she suggested a dance as a diversion. “Gerty will play a waltz for us and we can go into the dining-room. Juddy—push the table back, and—” in a whisper—“take Helena for your partner. I’ll find out if your friend has other accomplishments.”
When Mrs. Asa trilled out the “Blue Danube,” Ruth approached Donald. “Will you waltz with me?” she asked with a winning smile. The youth looked up at her with surprise in his eyes, colored slightly, and glanced at his heavy boots. “I—I’m afraid I can’t do much with these on,” he answered hesitatingly, “and I expect I’m sadly out of practice—”
“Let’s try anyway,” she suggested, and Donald slipped his arm around her waist and stepped off in time to the music. He held her very gingerly at first, but in the swing of the dance he tightened his embrace of her lithe figure. Though nervous and afraid of stepping on her dainty feet with his heavy brogans, and somewhat abashed in holding a pretty girl to him in such close proximity, he, nevertheless, piloted her through the rhythmic whirl in a creditable manner which bespoke a graceful dancer. Panting, and with eyes glowing and cheeks blooming, she called a halt. “Oh, I’m out of breath,” she gasped. “Let’s sit down. Juddy and Helena will dance all night.”
He escorted her to a corner of the dining-room and sat beside her. All his resentment against her previous treatment of him had vanished and he felt strangely buoyant and happy. For a moment neither spoke. “I’m so sorry I was rude to you about my painting this afternoon,” ventured Ruth at last with a shy glance towards his face. “You were quite right in your criticisms and you altered it wonderfully. I had no idea you were so clever. You must have studied painting...”
Donald nodded. “I always loved drawing and painting,” he replied. “My art lessons were the only ones I really enjoyed.”
“And music and dancing and singing?”