“Oh, but I do care,” retorted Bab. “She has been horrid and stuck up, but she hasn’t done Mollie and me any real harm, and she is my cousin. Her father is my mother’s brother. Uncle Ralph has never been very fond of us, nor has he come to see us very much, but he looks after mother’s money. I don’t suppose,” wound up Barbara, thoughtfully, “he would do us any wrong. I shouldn’t like Gladys to get into trouble.”
“What has kept you children so long?” asked Grace, as Ralph and Barbara appeared on Mrs. Cartwright’s veranda. Then she squeezed Bab’s hand and whispered, so no one else could hear, “Made it up, Bab?” Barbara nodded, “yes.”
Mrs. Cartwright was heard speaking. “Sit down, everyone, over there where Jones has placed the chairs for us. Professor Cartwright,” she bowed to show she meant herself, “will now explain to his pupils, or his guests, the principles of the science of ‘eyeology.’ Human character is expressed in the human eye—our love, our hate, our ambitions, everything. But can we read the characters of people about us as we look into their eyes? No! Why not? Because the rest of the face confuses our attention. Instead of the steadfast beacon of the eye, we see the nose, the mouth, the hair, all the other features, and so we fail to understand the story the eye would tell us if it were alone. To-night I intend to instruct you in the proper understanding of ‘eyeology.’”
Mrs. Cartwright changed to her usual manner of speaking. “Don’t you think it would be amusing to make a test? Here Ruth,” laughed the hostess, “be my first pupil. Go into the drawing-room and wait there until I send for you. I want to find out how many of your friends you will know, when you see only their eyes.”
CHAPTER XX—RUTH WAKES UP!
A curious sight met Ruth’s gaze when she was invited to return to the veranda.
“Goodness!” she laughed. “It is just as well I am not afraid of ghosts. I’ve come upon a whole army of them all at once!”
Mrs. Cartwright had the porch darkened, except for a single row of bright lights. Her visitors stood with their backs against the wall, a sheet drawn up on a level with their eyes. Another white cloth covered their heads, drawn down so low over their foreheads that even the eyebrows were concealed. By standing on books and stools the eyes were all on a level.
“No giggling,” said Mrs. Cartwright severely to the ghostly set in front of her, “or Ruth can guess who you are by the tones of your voices.”
Ruth looked confused. No signs of her friends remained, save a long row of shining eyes, black, blue, brown and gray, even the color being hard to distinguish in the artificial light.