"Get over on the piano stool, Art, and give us that new music you were playing last night," begged Joe.
"No, don't play new things," implored Dorothy. "Play some college songs."
And so Arthur played and they all sang; some on the pitch and some off, but all happy, and each one deeply satisfied with his own share of the performance. At last, swinging around on the piano stool, Arthur looked at Ruth and said mysteriously, "You may as well tell them your news now, Ruth."
Every one turned to look at Ruth with such sudden interest that the color flashed into her face.
"It isn't enough to make you all look so curious," she laughed. "It's only that I can't have many more parties with you, because my father has sent for me, and I am to sail on the 'Utopia' a month from to-day."
There was a moment of mournful and incredulous silence; then Dorothy said indignantly, "I call that a mean shame; you were promised to us for a year, and that would make it next October."
"I know. But you see father will be ready for me sooner than he thought, and much as I should love to spend the summer here, I do want to be with him."
"Strange," murmured Joe.
"And—and there's more news," continued Ruth. "Uncle Jerry and Miss Burton are going to be married a week before I sail, and go over with me for a wedding trip,"
"Tell us all about it," pleaded Betty, throwing herself on the floor at Ruth's feet.