Ruth led. She hardly felt the ground beneath her, but sprang from rock to moss and from boulder to boulder, till a gasp from Gethryn made her stop and turn about.
“Good Heavens, Ruth! what a climber you are!”
And now the colonel sat down on the nearest stone and flatly refused to stir.
“Oh! is it the hip, Father?” cried Ruth, hurrying back and kneeling beside him.
“No, of course it isn’t! It’s indignation!” said her father, calmly regarding her anxious face. “If you can’t go up mountains like a human girl, you’re not going up any more mountains with me.”
“Oh! I’ll go like a human snail if you want, dear! I’ve been too selfish! It’s a shame to tire you so!”
“Indeed, it is a perfect shame!” cried the colonel.
Ruth had to laugh. “As I remarked to Rex, early this morning,” her father continued, adjusting his eyeglass, “hang the Gomps!” Rex discreetly offered no comment. “Moreover,” the colonel went on, bringing all the severity his eyeglass permitted to bear on them both, “I decline to go walking any longer with a pair of lunatics. I shall confide you both to Sepp and will wait for you at the upper Shelter.”
“But it’s only indignation; it isn’t the hip, Father?” said Ruth, still hanging about him, but trying to laugh, since he would have her laugh.
He saw her trouble, and changing his tone said seriously, “My little girl, I’m only tired of this scramble, that’s all.”