Other Things Being Equal [89]
young, strong, and crippled of all grades of society, was a revelation of his life even to those who thought they knew him best. You should feel very proud with such sweet memories."
"Yes," assented Ruth, her eyes quickly suffused with tears.
They sat quietly thus for some time, till Rose, rising from her cricket, kissed her friend silently and departed.
The waning light fell softly through the lace curtains, printing quaint arabesques on the walls and furniture and bathing the room in a rich yellow light. A carriage rolled up in front of the house. Dr. Kemp handed the reins to his man and alighted. He walked slowly up to the door. It was very still about the house in the evening twilight. He pushed his hat back on his head and looked up at the clear blue sky, as if the keen breeze were pleasant to his temples. Then with a quick motion, as though recalling his thoughts, he turned and rang the bell. The latchkey of the householder was not his.
Ruth, sitting in the shadows, had scarcely heard the ring. She was absorbed in a new train of thought. Rose Delano was the first one who had clearly brought home to her the thought that she was really married. She had been very quiet with her other friends, and every one, looking at her grief-stricken face, had shrunk from mentioning what would have called for congratulation. Rose, who knew only these two, naturally dwelt on their changed relations. Her husband! Her dormant love gave an exultant bound. Wave upon wave of emotion beat upon her heart; she sprang to her feet; the door opened, and he came in. He saw her standing faintly outlined in the dark.
"Good-evening," he said, coming slowly toward her with extended hand; "have you been quite well to-day?" He felt her fingers tremble in his close clasp, and let them fall slowly. "Bob sent you these early violets. Shall I light the gas?"
"If you will."
He turned from her and rapidly filled the room with light.
"Where is your mother?" he asked, turning toward her again. Her face was hidden in the violets.
"Upstairs with Louis. They had something to arrange. Did you wish to see her?" To judge from Ruth's manner, Kemp might have been a visitor.
"No," he replied. "If you will sit down, we can talk quietly till they come in."
As she resumed her high-backed chair and he seated himself in another before her, he was instantly struck by some new change in her face. The faraway, impersonal look with which she had met him in these sad days had been what he had expected, and he had curbed with a strong will every impulse for any closer recognition. But this new look, --what did it mean? In the effort to appear unconcerned the dark color had risen to his own cheeks.
"I had quite a pleasant little encounter to-day," he observed; "shall I tell it to you?"
"If it will not tire you."
Keeping his eyes fixed on the picture over her head, he did not see the look of anxious love that dwelt in her eyes as they swept over him.
"Oh, no," he responded, slightly smiling over the recollection. "I was coming down my office steps this afternoon, and had just reached the foot, when a bright-faced, bright-haired boy stood before me with an eager light in his eyes. 'Aren't you Dr. Kemp?' he asked breathlessly, like one who had been running. I recollected him the instant he raised his hat from his nimbus of golden hair. 'Yes; and you are Will Tyrrell,' I answered promptly. 'Why, how did you remember?' he asked in surprise; 'you saw me only once.' 'Never mind; I remember that night,' I answered. 'How is that baby sister of yours?' "Oh, she's all right,' he replied dismissing the subject with the royalty that brotherhood confers. 'I say, do you ever see Miss Levice nowadays?' I looked at him with a half-smile, not knowing whether to set him right or not, when he finally blurted out, 'She's the finest girl I ever met. Do you know her well, Doctor?' 'Well,' I answered, 'I know her slightly, --she is my wife.'"
He had told the little incident brightly; but as he came to the end, his voice
"Yes," assented Ruth, her eyes quickly suffused with tears.
They sat quietly thus for some time, till Rose, rising from her cricket, kissed her friend silently and departed.
The waning light fell softly through the lace curtains, printing quaint arabesques on the walls and furniture and bathing the room in a rich yellow light. A carriage rolled up in front of the house. Dr. Kemp handed the reins to his man and alighted. He walked slowly up to the door. It was very still about the house in the evening twilight. He pushed his hat back on his head and looked up at the clear blue sky, as if the keen breeze were pleasant to his temples. Then with a quick motion, as though recalling his thoughts, he turned and rang the bell. The latchkey of the householder was not his.
Ruth, sitting in the shadows, had scarcely heard the ring. She was absorbed in a new train of thought. Rose Delano was the first one who had clearly brought home to her the thought that she was really married. She had been very quiet with her other friends, and every one, looking at her grief-stricken face, had shrunk from mentioning what would have called for congratulation. Rose, who knew only these two, naturally dwelt on their changed relations. Her husband! Her dormant love gave an exultant bound. Wave upon wave of emotion beat upon her heart; she sprang to her feet; the door opened, and he came in. He saw her standing faintly outlined in the dark.
"Good-evening," he said, coming slowly toward her with extended hand; "have you been quite well to-day?" He felt her fingers tremble in his close clasp, and let them fall slowly. "Bob sent you these early violets. Shall I light the gas?"
"If you will."
He turned from her and rapidly filled the room with light.
"Where is your mother?" he asked, turning toward her again. Her face was hidden in the violets.
"Upstairs with Louis. They had something to arrange. Did you wish to see her?" To judge from Ruth's manner, Kemp might have been a visitor.
"No," he replied. "If you will sit down, we can talk quietly till they come in."
As she resumed her high-backed chair and he seated himself in another before her, he was instantly struck by some new change in her face. The faraway, impersonal look with which she had met him in these sad days had been what he had expected, and he had curbed with a strong will every impulse for any closer recognition. But this new look, --what did it mean? In the effort to appear unconcerned the dark color had risen to his own cheeks.
"I had quite a pleasant little encounter to-day," he observed; "shall I tell it to you?"
"If it will not tire you."
Keeping his eyes fixed on the picture over her head, he did not see the look of anxious love that dwelt in her eyes as they swept over him.
"Oh, no," he responded, slightly smiling over the recollection. "I was coming down my office steps this afternoon, and had just reached the foot, when a bright-faced, bright-haired boy stood before me with an eager light in his eyes. 'Aren't you Dr. Kemp?' he asked breathlessly, like one who had been running. I recollected him the instant he raised his hat from his nimbus of golden hair. 'Yes; and you are Will Tyrrell,' I answered promptly. 'Why, how did you remember?' he asked in surprise; 'you saw me only once.' 'Never mind; I remember that night,' I answered. 'How is that baby sister of yours?' "Oh, she's all right,' he replied dismissing the subject with the royalty that brotherhood confers. 'I say, do you ever see Miss Levice nowadays?' I looked at him with a half-smile, not knowing whether to set him right or not, when he finally blurted out, 'She's the finest girl I ever met. Do you know her well, Doctor?' 'Well,' I answered, 'I know her slightly, --she is my wife.'"
He had told the little incident brightly; but as he came to the end, his voice