“Now, mademoiselle,” said Mrs. Cartwright, still speaking in the voice of a professor, “behold before you an opportunity to prove your skill in the remarkable science of ‘eyeology.’ I have a piece of paper and a pencil in my hand. As you gaze into each pair of eyes, you are to reveal that person’s identity. I will write the names down as you tell them to me. When you have gone through the whole list, the curtain shall be lifted. Then we shall discover how many of your friends you know by the character of their eyes. After Ruth has finished, anyone else who wishes may try his or her skill.”
“My dear Mrs. Cartwright,” said Ruth, laughing and peering in front of her, “I tell you, right now, that I shall not guess a single name correctly. To tell the truth, I never saw any of these eyes before. It’s horrid to have them all staring and blinking at me. I am frightened at them all! Besides, I can’t see. May I have a candle and hold it up in front of each person as I pass along?”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Cartwright; “only kindly keep at a safe distance. We don’t want to burn up any of our ghosts.”
Ruth started down the line. She had the privilege of staring as long and as hard as she liked into each pair of eyes.
The company was strangely silent. They were really interested in the idea, and knew that any talking would spoil the whole experiment.
“I’ve mixed the babies up, Ruth,” said Mrs. Cartwright, “so you needn’t think you can guess anyone by his choice of a next-door neighbor. No social preferences have been allowed in this game.”
Ruth tried the first pair of eyes. She looked at them intently. Then she turned round to Mrs. Cartwright. “I am sure I never saw those eyes before. You have introduced some stranger since I left the porch.”
“There is not a person here whom you do not know well,” Mrs. Cartwright assured her. “Don’t try to slip out of your task.”
Ruth kept staring. The eyes in front of her drooped, and soft, curling lashes for an instant swept over them. A little wistful look lay in the depths of them, when the lids lifted. “Why, it’s Molliekins! How absurd of me not to know her! I was about to guess Ralph!”
Mistress Ruth must have guessed wrongly next time, for there was a burst of laughter, afterwards, that made the white sheets shake.