"H—m!" mused the doctor. "Where is Ruth?" he looked up to ask.
"Ruth went to Boston at noon. At least so Bertha tells me." Bertha was the maid. "She did not say good-by to me. I thought possibly she had to you!"
Her husband shook his head, perplexed and troubled.
"Dear Uncle Phil," ran Larry's message.
"Ruth has gone to Boston. She left a letter for me saying good-by and asking me to say good-by to the rest of you for her. Said she would write as soon as she had an address and that no one was to worry about her. She would be quite all right and thought it was best not to bother us by telling us about her plans until she was settled."
"Of course I am going after her. I don't know where she is but I'll find her. I've got to, especially as I was the one who drove her away. I broke my promise to you. I did make love to her and asked her to marry me the night Granny died. She said she would and then of course I said she couldn't and we've not seen each other alone since so I don't know what she thinks now. I don't know anything except that I'm half crazy."
"I know it is horribly selfish to go off and leave you like this when you need me especially. Please forgive me. I'll be back as soon as I can or send Ruth or we'll both come. And don't worry. I'm not going to do anything rash or wrong or anything that will hurt you or Ruth. I am sorry about the other night. I didn't mean to smash up like that."
The doctor handed the letter over to his wife.
"Why didn't he wait until he had her address? How can he possibly find her in a city like Boston with not the slightest thing to go on?"
Doctor Holiday smiled wearily.