Other Things Being Equal [22]
evident delight in my company," laughed Ruth; "but there is one play at which you must submit to the infliction of my presence. Don't you remember we always wished to see the 'Merchant of Venice' and judge for ourselves his interpretation of the character? Well, I am determined that we shall see it together."
"When does he play it?"
"A week from Saturday night."
"Sorry to disappoint you, but I shall be out of town at the end of next week."
"Oh, dear? Honestly? Can't you put it off? I want so much to go."
"Impossible. Go with your father."
"You know very well neither of us would go off and leave Mamma alone at night. It is horrid of you to go. I am sure you could manage differently if--"
"Why, my child!"
She was actually pouting; and her father's quiet tone of surprised reprimand just headed off two great tears that threatened to fall.
"I know," she said, trying to smile, and showing an April face instead; "but I had just set my heart on going, and with Louis too."
"That comes of being a spoilt only child," put in Arnold, suavely. "You ought to know by this time that of the many plans we make with ourselves, nine out of ten come to nought. Before you set your heart on a thing, be sure you will not have to give it up."
Ruth, still sore with disappointment, acknowledged this philosophic remark with a curled lip.
"There, save your tears for something more worthy," cut in Levice, briskly; "if you care so much about it, we or chance must arrange it as you wish."
But chance in this instance was not propitious. Wednesday came, and Arnold saw no way of accommodating her. He left town after taking her to see the "Fool's Revenge" as a sort of substitution.
"You seemed to be enjoying the poor Fool's troubles last night," observed Dr. Kemp, in the morning; they were still standing in Mrs. Levice's room.
"I? Not enjoying his troubles; I enjoyed Booth, though, --if you can call it enjoyment when your heart is ready to break for him. Were you there? I did not see you."
"No, I don't suppose you did, or you would have been in the pitiable condition of the princess who had her head turned. I sat directly back of your box, in the dress-circle. Then you like Booth?"
"Take care! That is a dangerous subject with my family," broke in Mrs. Levice. "Ruth has actually exhausted every adjective in her admiration vocabulary. The last extravaganza I heard from her on that theme was after she had seen him as Brutus; she wished herself Lucius, that in the tent scene she might kiss Booth's hand."
"It sounds gushing enough for a school-girl now," laughed Ruth merrily, looking up at the doctor; "but at the time I meant it."
"Have you seen him in all his impersonations?" he asked.
"In everything but 'Shylock.'"
"You will have a chance for that on Saturday night. It will be a great farewell performance."
"Undoubtedly, but I shall have to forego that last glimpse of him."
"Now, Doctor," cried Mrs. Levice, "will you please impress it on her that I am not a lunatic and can be left alone without fear? She wishes to go Saturday night, but refuses to go with her father on the ground that I shall be left alone, as Mr. Arnold is out of town. Is not that being unnecessarily solicitous?"
"Without doubt. But," he added, turning deferentially to Ruth, "in lieu of a better escort, how would I do, Miss Levice?"
"I do not understand."
"Will you come with me Saturday night to see 'Shylock'?"
To be candid, Ruth was embarrassed. The doctor had said neither "will you honor me" nor "will you please me," but he had both pleased and honored her. She turned a pair of radiant eyes to her mother. "Come now, Mrs. Levice," laughed Kemp, noting the action, "will you allow your little girl to go with me? Do not detain me with a refusal; it will be impossible to accept one now, and I shall not be around till then, you know. Good-morning."
Unwittingly, the doctor had caused an excitement in the hearts both of mother and daughter. The latter was naturally surprised at his unexpected
"When does he play it?"
"A week from Saturday night."
"Sorry to disappoint you, but I shall be out of town at the end of next week."
"Oh, dear? Honestly? Can't you put it off? I want so much to go."
"Impossible. Go with your father."
"You know very well neither of us would go off and leave Mamma alone at night. It is horrid of you to go. I am sure you could manage differently if--"
"Why, my child!"
She was actually pouting; and her father's quiet tone of surprised reprimand just headed off two great tears that threatened to fall.
"I know," she said, trying to smile, and showing an April face instead; "but I had just set my heart on going, and with Louis too."
"That comes of being a spoilt only child," put in Arnold, suavely. "You ought to know by this time that of the many plans we make with ourselves, nine out of ten come to nought. Before you set your heart on a thing, be sure you will not have to give it up."
Ruth, still sore with disappointment, acknowledged this philosophic remark with a curled lip.
"There, save your tears for something more worthy," cut in Levice, briskly; "if you care so much about it, we or chance must arrange it as you wish."
But chance in this instance was not propitious. Wednesday came, and Arnold saw no way of accommodating her. He left town after taking her to see the "Fool's Revenge" as a sort of substitution.
"You seemed to be enjoying the poor Fool's troubles last night," observed Dr. Kemp, in the morning; they were still standing in Mrs. Levice's room.
"I? Not enjoying his troubles; I enjoyed Booth, though, --if you can call it enjoyment when your heart is ready to break for him. Were you there? I did not see you."
"No, I don't suppose you did, or you would have been in the pitiable condition of the princess who had her head turned. I sat directly back of your box, in the dress-circle. Then you like Booth?"
"Take care! That is a dangerous subject with my family," broke in Mrs. Levice. "Ruth has actually exhausted every adjective in her admiration vocabulary. The last extravaganza I heard from her on that theme was after she had seen him as Brutus; she wished herself Lucius, that in the tent scene she might kiss Booth's hand."
"It sounds gushing enough for a school-girl now," laughed Ruth merrily, looking up at the doctor; "but at the time I meant it."
"Have you seen him in all his impersonations?" he asked.
"In everything but 'Shylock.'"
"You will have a chance for that on Saturday night. It will be a great farewell performance."
"Undoubtedly, but I shall have to forego that last glimpse of him."
"Now, Doctor," cried Mrs. Levice, "will you please impress it on her that I am not a lunatic and can be left alone without fear? She wishes to go Saturday night, but refuses to go with her father on the ground that I shall be left alone, as Mr. Arnold is out of town. Is not that being unnecessarily solicitous?"
"Without doubt. But," he added, turning deferentially to Ruth, "in lieu of a better escort, how would I do, Miss Levice?"
"I do not understand."
"Will you come with me Saturday night to see 'Shylock'?"
To be candid, Ruth was embarrassed. The doctor had said neither "will you honor me" nor "will you please me," but he had both pleased and honored her. She turned a pair of radiant eyes to her mother. "Come now, Mrs. Levice," laughed Kemp, noting the action, "will you allow your little girl to go with me? Do not detain me with a refusal; it will be impossible to accept one now, and I shall not be around till then, you know. Good-morning."
Unwittingly, the doctor had caused an excitement in the hearts both of mother and daughter. The latter was naturally surprised at his unexpected