In spite of the fact that what she most wanted had come to pass Ruth still felt uncomfortable, indeed almost unhappy. To be sure Arthur had come down, but would he ever forgive what she had said to him? She had been quick to see that at first he had resented her advent into the family, and it was with a secret pride that she had lately realized that they were getting to be good friends. "Now I have spoiled all that," she thought mournfully. "He may be glad I made him come down, but I know he'll never forget the horrid things I said."
Katharine and Philip fondly hoped that they had chosen something which would puzzle their friends for some time. It was not long, however, before Charlotte, whose skilful questioning was the admiration of her own side and the despair of the other, had gradually drawn from Philip the fact that the object thought of was the right eye of the first fish Frank had caught the last time he went fishing. As Philip reluctantly assented there was a shout of joy from Bert's side, and an answering chorus of groans from the music-room. Then Charlotte and Jack went out and tried their best to think of something almost unguessable, and at last Ruth was sent out to wait for some one from the other side who seemed to be slow in coming.
She sat down in one of the hall chairs, but started up again and would have liked to run away when she heard the familiar tap of the crutches on the polished floor. It was silly to feel so embarrassed, she thought; she had meant well, at least, in what she had done, and if she had gone too far she was sorry but it couldn't be helped now. She tried to think only of the game they were playing and said brightly to Arthur as he approached:
"I hope you've thought of something hard, for I'm so stupid I can't think of a thing."
"Oh, hang the game," he answered impatiently. "See here, Ruth, it's not very easy for me to say things, but I've just been waiting for the chance to tell you that you've done something for me to-night that I shall never forget."
"Oh, but I want you to forget all those horrid things I said, and I take them all back this very minute. I think it's very fine and brave of you to come down and act just the same as ever."
Arthur looked as if the little speech pleased him, though, being a boy, of course he couldn't say so.
"It's taken three of you to reform me," he said with a little laugh. "Mother has tried her hand at it, and good old Ellen, and now you have put on the finishing touch. At least, I hope it's the finishing touch," he added soberly.
"Of course it is. You can never feel like shutting yourself up again when you see how they all want you, and how happy you make your mother and father."
"I shall be an ungrateful beast if I don't please my mother and father. You must give me a push if you see me going backward, Ruth. What's the use of a borrowed sister if she can't help a fellow along?"