Every day, whenever there was a chance, the five met to talk over ways and means. Sue wrestled with the problem for some time, and finally she and Ted put their heads together, and decided to hold an auction.
“You can’t hold an auction unless you have something to sell,” Ruth remonstrated.
“We’ll sell things,” the two promised, and they surely did when the time came.
Isabel held fast to her strawberry fête, and Ruth pondered over how she could do her share. Miss Murray had been attracted from the first of the term to this quiet, old-fashioned girl, with the big brown eyes, and spectacles, and serious yet whimsical way with her. She knew that while the other girls had nice homes, and sure prospects, Ruth was dependent on her aunt, and had to make her own way as soon as she left school. Perhaps this bred a sort of kinship in sympathy between them. At all events, Ruth found that nearly every day she would have a talk with Jean.
Finally, they took Miss Calvert into their confidence, and she had a suggestion to make at once.
“Why, Ruth, child, don’t you think you could bring the little lame Ellis boy up in his lessons so he could take the examinations,” she said, hopefully. “Mrs. Ellis was asking me only Sunday how she could manage with him, and he is quite convalescent now. The doctor says his worrying over falling behind will retard his recovery.”
Ruth’s face brightened. The little lame Ellis boy, as every one in Queen’s Ferry called him, was the only child of Payne Ellis, the senior warden at Trinity Church. She knew him well at church. He had been ill with measles for several weeks, and would be certain to miss all of his examinations.
“He wants so much to finish his grammar work this year, and start in the fall at St. Stephen’s Military School, and if he fails, it means another year of eighth grade work,” added Miss Calvert. “I do think you might be able to bring him up in time, Ruth. I will speak to Mrs. Ellis to-night, and let you know.”
The next day Ruth’s face fairly shone with satisfaction.
“Oh, girls, isn’t it good?” she said, as they were going up the broad stairs at noon. “I’ve heard from Mrs. Ellis, and I am to give two hours every day after school, teaching Phil. She says she will give me fifty cents an hour. That’s six dollars a week, and there’ll be five weeks anyway, up to the end of school. The doctor says he mustn’t attempt to go back on account of his eyes.”