They all laughed, and Jack said almost as if he felt it a personal grievance, "I don't believe you were so scared as we were after all."
It was a jolly supper, but to Ruth, who ached from head to foot, it seemed as if it would never end. She did her best to behave as usual, and succeeded so well that for some time no one noticed how pale and tired she looked.
As they got up from the table, Arthur said suddenly: "Say, Phil,
I'm awfully tired. Do you mind getting out your old nag now? And,
Ruth, wouldn't you like to go home too?"
"Oh, yes," answered Ruth, so eagerly that the others realized at once the cause of Arthur's sudden weariness. No one said a word, but the girls almost fell over each other in their endeavors to assist her, and the boys rushed the sleigh to the door in great haste.
"Ladies first," said Phil gallantly, and before Ruth realized what was happening, he and Frank had gently picked her up and deposited her in the sleigh. Then came Arthur, and then the boys piled in on the front seat.
Mrs. Hamilton met them at the front door. "I'm so glad you came home early, children. Ruth, you must be tired to death after skating."
"I am. Oh, I am," answered Ruth with a little laugh, and then she surprised herself by throwing both arms about Mrs. Hamilton's neck and bursting into tears.
"Don't you dare to think I'm crying, Arthur Hamilton," she managed to say between her sobs. "I said I wouldn't, and I won't," and then realizing the absurdity of what she was saying, she laughed as unrestrainedly as she had cried.
The sight of Mrs. Hamilton's worried face and Arthur's helpless alarm brought her to her senses, and she said penitently, "Do forgive me for being so foolish. I've tried so hard not to cry that when I felt Aunt Mary's arms around me it just had to come out."
"Darling, the best place for you is in bed, and I shall see that you're tucked in all 'comfy,'" said Mrs. Hamilton tenderly.