Instantly Ruth responded to the suggestion. She scrambled to her feet and trotted out, intent on achieving cookies at once. Betty turned to follow, but her guest stopped her with a question.
“What’s the Tarkington story about?”
“About a girl who’s hanging on to the outskirts of society and making all kinds of pretenses—a pushing kind of a girl, who has to fib and scheme to get along. But he makes her so human you like her and feel sorry for her.”
“Sounds interesting.” He fired his broadside while he still held her eyes. “Miss Reed, why am I being punished?”
Into her cheeks the color flowed. “Punished?” she murmured, taken aback.
Betty had stopped by the table and half turned. He reached for the umbrella he used as a support and hobbled toward her. “Yes. What have I done?”
A turmoil of the blood began to boil in her. “The doctor said you were to keep off your feet,” she evaded.
“Yes, and he said you were to entertain me—keep me interested.”
“That was when you were too sick to read. And I’m busy now. Lots of work piled up while I was away.”
“Then you’re not offended about anything.”