"Oh, of course; mamma wouldn't let me go unless there was a chaperone," she replied after a moment, but tamely, with the ring all faded out of her voice.
"No, I am sure she would not," the governess remarked dryly.
"I thought of you at once," Ruth began again with an upward glance that however did not meet Miss Blake's eye. "But then we all thought that it would be too much to ask of you—to ride all those miles with a noisy crowd in the cold and night, and—so on, and so—so—just before I came here I ran into Mrs. Cole and asked her to chaperone us, and she said she would."
The governess laid her duster on a chair, and unbuttoned her apron very deliberately.
"Mrs. Cole," she repeated half-aloud, as if speaking to herself, and her tone had something in it that seemed to call for some sort of justification from Ruth.
"You know she's just been married, and she's as full of fun as she can be. And she likes a good time immensely, and loves to be with us girls, and it won't bore her a bit to go, and it's ever so much better to have her than—than—some one who wouldn't enjoy it, you know."
"Is Mr. Cole to be of the party?" Miss Blake inquired, still with that odd inflection.
"Why, no," responded Ruth, twisting her handkerchief into a hard knot. "There won't be room for him. But Mrs. Cole said it didn't matter in the least. She says she often goes off and leaves him, and he has just as nice a time sitting home with his cigar and a book or something."
"They have been married, I think, three months," Miss Blake commented half to herself.
"Yes, about," replied Ruth. "And Mrs. Cole is just as gay and jolly as she ever was. You may think that it isn't very dignified for a married woman to—"