CHAPTER XLII.

PROFFERED SERVICES.

Ruth went into the garden, which was lying in shadow just then; so she required no covering for her head, but rather enjoyed the bland south wind which drifted softly through her loose hair, as she stooped to pluck the roses.

Meantime Judith Hart lifted herself from the lounging attitude into which she had sunk, and in an instant became sharply alert. Upon a little chintz couch that occupied one side of the room she found the scarlet sacque and a dainty little hat, which Ruth had flung there before going up to her father, after her return from "The Rest." Quick as thought, Judith slipped on the sacque, and placed the hat with its side cluster of red roses on her head. After giving a sharp glance through the window, to make sure that Ruth was still occupied in the garden, she went up to a little mirror, and took a hasty survey of herself.

"The jacket is as like as two peas," she thought, "and the hat is easy got. There'll be no trouble in twisting up one side like this. As to the roses, he must get them before the fair is over. If I could only wear them in broad daylight, before all their faces, it would be splendid; but he won't give in to that. Farther on, I'll show him and them, too, what a dash Richard Storms has in a wife. Oh, goodness, here she comes!"

Quick as lightning the girl flung off the sacque; tossed the hat down upon it, and ran to the seat she had left. When Ruth came in, she was sitting there, casting vague looks around her, as if she had been quietly resting all the time.

"Take these and this," said Ruth, giving her unwelcome visitor a great bouquet of flowers, and a little basket brimming over with strawberries; "and please take our thanks to your mistress."

"But, about the old man up-stairs. How is he getting on? She will be sure to ask."

"Better."

"He is mending, then?"

"Yes, slowly."

Judith arose, but seemed reluctant to go.

"You look pale yet."

"No, no; I may have done, but not now," answered Ruth, blushing as she thought why her strength and color had come back so suddenly. "I am not as anxious as I was."

"But the nursing, and the work, too, must come hard," persisted the girl.

"Not now; I scarcely feel it now."

"But if you should, remember, I'm both ready and willing to give a helping hand."

"Thank you."

"And the mistress will be glad to spare me now and then, when she knows that it is for this place I'm wanted. So there would be no fear of asking."

"Your mistress is very good."

"Good as gold; especially where you are the person that wants help. 'Judith,' says she, calling me into the bar, 'take these things over to Jessup's and mind you ask particular about the old man. He should 'a' been about by this time; perhaps it's nursing he wants most, so, if you can be of use, don't mind coming back in a hurry, but give the lass a helping hand. Poor thing, she's been brought up o'er dainty, and this sickness in the house is sure to pull her down.' That's what the mistress said, and I'm ready to abide by it, and help you at any time."

Ruth was touched by this persistent kindness, that was so earnest and seemed so real, and her rejection of it was full of gratitude.

"All the worst trouble is over now," she said, and a gleam of moisture came into her eyes. "Say this to your mistress. As for yourself, a thousand thanks; but I need no help now, though I shall never forget how kindly you offered it."

"Oh, as for the kindness, that's nothing," answered the girl, with a slight toss of the head, on which she was tying her bonnet, for she was far too bold for adroit hypocrisy. "One always stands ready to help in a case of sickness; but never mind, you will be sure to want me yet; when you come to that, you'll find me ready; and you are sure to come to it."

"I hope not. Indeed, I am sure of it. Father is doing so well."

"Would you mind my going up to see for myself?" said Judith, sharply, as if the wish were flung off her mind with an effort. "The mistress will not be content with less, I warrant."

"If you wish. Only he must not be disturbed," answered Ruth, after a moment's hesitation.

"Oh, I'll flit up the stairs like a bird, and hold my breath when I get there," said Judith, eagerly.

She did follow Ruth with a light tread, and moved softly across the sick man's chamber when she reached it. Jessup turned on his pillow as she approached, and held out his hand, with a smile. The sight of a familiar face was pleasant to him.

"The mistress sent me to ask after you," said Judith, quite subdued by the stillness and the pallor of the sick man's face, "and I just stepped up to see for myself. She's so anxious to make sure that you are mending."

"Tell her I am better. A'most well," said Jessup, grateful for this attention from his old neighbor.

"That's something worth while," answered the girl, speaking with an effort. "The mistress 'll be glad to hear it, and so will be many a one who comes to the house. As for me, if I can do anything to help the young lady, she has only to say so, and I'll come, night or day, for she doesn't look over strong."

Unconsciously to herself, the girl had been so impressed with the gentle bearing of Ruth Jessup, that she spoke of her as superior to her class, even against her own will. Jessup noticed this, and turned a fond look on Ruth.

"She's not o'er strong," he said, "but I think Ruthy wouldn't like any one but herself to tend on her father."

"No, no, indeed, I wouldn't," said Ruth, eagerly.

"But I might help about the work below," urged Judith, with singular persistency.

Jessup looked at his daughter questioningly.

"There is so little to do," she said, "but I am obliged all the same."

"Yes, yes. We are both obliged. Don't forget to say as much to the mistress," said Jessup.

Judith seized his hand, and shook it with a vigor that made him cry out with a spasm of pain. Then her face flushed, and a strange, unholy light shot into her eyes.

"Not so well as you think, or a grip of the hand like that wouldn't have made you wince so. You may have need of me, yet," she said, turning upon Ruth; "to my thinking, it's more than likely."

"I hope not," answered Ruth; "and I am sure that all who love my father hope so too."

"Of which I am one," was the quick reply. "You may make sure of that. No one wants to see Jessup about more than I do. Though he does come so seldom to the public, it will be a holiday when he orders the next can of beer at the 'Two Ravens.' So, hoping for the best, good-day to both of you."