“No,” said the Major, with a laugh, “I was not. I was on the other side—I was in the Engineer Corps under Grant.”
“Oh!” said the host, in such undisguised surprise that Ruth could feel herself grow hot, and was sensible, even in the darkness, of a change in her father’s attitude.
“Perhaps it may not be agree——I mean, convenient, for you to take us in to-night?” said Major Welch, rather stiffly.
“Oh, my dear sir,” protested the other, “the war is over, isn’t it? Of course it’s convenient. My wife is away just now, but, of course, it is always convenient to take in wayfarers.” And he led the horse off, while his daughter, whose quiet “Won’t you walk in?” soothed Ruth’s ruffled spirit, conducted them into the house.
When Ruth entered she had not the slightest idea as to either the name or appearance of their hosts. They had evidently assumed that the travellers knew who they were when they applied to spend the night, and it had been too dark outside for Ruth to see their faces. She only knew that they had rich voices and cordial, simple manners, such as even the plainest farmers appeared to have in this strange land, and she had a mystified feeling. As she entered the door her mystification only increased. The room into which she was conducted from the little veranda was a sitting or living room, lower in pitch than almost any room Ruth had ever been in, while its appointments appeared curiously incongruous to her eyes, dazzled as they were from coming in suddenly from the darkness. Ruth took in this rather than observed it as she became accustomed to the light, for the first glance of the two girls was at each other. Ruth found herself astonished at the appearance of her hostess. Her face was so refined and her figure so slim that it occurred to Ruth that she might be an invalid. Her dress was simple to plainness, plainer than Ruth had ever seen the youngest girl wear, and her breast-pin was nothing but a brass button, such as soldiers wear on their coats; yet her manners were as composed and gracious as if she had been a lady and in society for years.
“Why, she looks like a lady,” thought the girl, with a new feeling of shyness coming over her, and she stole a glance around her for something which would enable her to decide her hosts’ real position. The appointments of the room, however, only mystified her the more. A plain, white board bookcase filled with old books stood on one side, with a gun resting in the corner, against it; two or three portraits of bewigged personages in dingy frames, and as many profile portraits in pastel hung on the walls, with a stained print or two, and a number of photographs of soldiers in uniform among them. A mahogany table with carved legs stood in the centre of the room, piled with books, and the chairs were a mixture of home-made split-bottomed ones and old-fashioned, straight-backed armchairs.
“How curious these farmers are,” thought Ruth; but she did not have a great deal of time for reflection, for the next instant her hostess, who had been talking to her father, was asking if she would not “take her things off” in so pleasant a voice, that before hat and coat were removed all constraint was gone and Ruth found herself completely at home. Then her hostess excused herself and went out for a moment. Ruth took advantage of her absence to whisper to her father, with genuine enthusiasm, “Isn’t she pretty, father? What are they?”
“I don’t know, but I suspect—” Just what it was that he suspected Ruth did not learn, for at that moment their host stepped in at the door, and laying his old worn hat on a table, made them another little speech, as if being under his roof required a new welcome. Major Welch began to apologize for running in on them so unceremoniously, but the farmer assured him that an apology was quite unnecessary, and that they were always glad to welcome travellers who came.
“We are told to entertain strangers, you know; for thereby, they say, some have entertained angels unawares, and though we cannot exactly say that we have ever done this yet,” he added, with a twinkle in his eye, “we may be beginning it now—who knows?” He made Ruth a bow with an old-fashioned graciousness which set her to blushing.
“What a beautiful nose he has, finer even than my father’s,” she thought.