Other Things Being Equal Part 25

"I interrupted you," he continued; "will you shake hands with me, nevertheless?"

She put her hand in his proffered one, which lingered in the touch; and then, without looking at her, he stooped and spoke to the child. In that moment she had time to compose herself.

"Do you often come up this way?" she questioned.

He turned from the child, straightened himself, and leaning one arm against the tree, answered,--

"Once or twice every summer I run away from humanity for a few days, and generally find myself in this part of the country. This is one of my select spots. I knew you would ferret it out."

"It is very lovely here. But we are going home now; the afternoon is growing old. Come, Ethel."

A shadow fell upon his dark eyes as she spoke, scarcely looking at him.

Why should she hurry off at his coming?

"I am sorry my presence disturbs you," he said quietly; "But I can easily go away again."

"Was I so rude?" she asked, looking up with a sudden smile. "I did not mean it so; but Ethel's mother will want her now."

"Ethel wants to be carried," begged the child.

"All right; Ruth will carry you," and she stooped to raise her; but as she did so, Kemp's strong hand was laid upon her arm and held her back.

"Ethel will ride home on my shoulder," he said in the gay, winning voice he knew how so well to use with children. The baby's blue eyes smiled in response to his as he swing her lightly to his broad shoulder. There is nothing prettier to a woman than to see the confidence that a little child reposes in a strong man.

So through the mellow, golden sunlight they strolled slowly homeward.

Chapter XV

Mr. Levice, sauntering down the garden-path, saw the trio approaching.

For a moment he did not recognize the gentleman in his summer attire.

When he did, surprise, then pleasure, then a spirit of inquietude, took possession of him. He had been unexpectedly startled on Ruth's birthnight by a vague something in Kemp's eyes. The feeling, however, had vanished gradually in the knowledge that the doctor always had a peculiarly intent gaze, and, moreover, no one could have helped appreciating her loveliness that night. This, of itself, will bring a softness into a man's manner; and without doubt his fears had been groundless,--fears that he had not dared to put into words. For old man as he was, he realized that Dr. Kemp's strong personality was such as would prove dangerously seductive to any woman whom he cared to honor with his favor; but with a "Get thee behind me, Satan" desire, he had put the question from him. He could have taken his oath on Ruth's heart-wholeness, yet now, as he recognized her companion, his misgivings returned threefold. The courteous gentleman, however, was at his ease as they came up.

"This is a surprise, Doctor," he exclaimed cordially, opening the gate and extending his hand. "Who would have thought of meeting you here?"

Kemp grasped his hand heartily.

"I am a sort of surprise-party," he answered, swinging Ethel to the ground and watching her scamper off to the hotel; "and what is more," he continued, turning to him, "I have not brought a hamper, which makes one of me."

"You calculate without your host," responded Levice; "this is a veritable land of milk and honey. Come up and listen to my wife rhapsodize."

"How is she?" he asked, turning with him and catching a glimpse of Ruth's vanis.h.i.+ng figure.

"Feeling quite well," replied Levice; "she is all impatience now for a delirious winter season."

"I thought so," laughed the doctor; "but if you take my advice, you will draw the bit slightly."

Mrs. Levice was delighted to see him; she said it was like the sight of a cable-car in a desert. He protested at such a stupendous comparison, and insisted that she make clear that the dummy was not included. The short afternoon glided into evening, and Dr. Kemp went over to the hotel and dined at the Levices' table.

Ruth, in a white wool gown, sat opposite him. It was the first time he had dined with them; and he enjoyed a singular feeling over the situation. He noticed that although Mrs. Levice kept up an almost incessant flow of talk, she ate a hearty meal, and that Ruth, who was unusually quiet, tasted scarcely anything. Her father also observed it, and resolved upon a course of strict surveillance. He was glad to hear that the doctor had to leave on the early morning's train, though, of course, he did not say so. As they strolled about afterward, he managed to keep his daughter with him and allowed Kemp to appropriate his wife.

They finally drifted to the cottage-steps, and were enjoying the beauty of the night when Will Tyrrell presented himself before them.

"Good-evening," he said, taking off his hat as he stood at the foot of the steps. "Mr. Levice, Father says he has at last scared up two other gentlemen; and will you please come over and play a rubber of whist?"

Mr. Levice felt himself a victim of circ.u.mstances. He and Mr. Tyrrell had been looking for a couple of opponents, and had almost given up the search. Now, when he decidedly objected to moving, it would have been heartless not to go.

"Don't consider me," said the doctor, observing his hesitancy. "If it ill relieve you, I a.s.sure you I shall not miss you in the least."

"Go right ahead, Jules" urged his wife; "Ruth and I will take care of the doctor."

If she had promised to take care of Ruth, it would have been more to his mind; but since his wife was there, what harm could accrue that his presence would prevent? So with a sincere apology he went over to the hotel.

He hardly appreciated what an admirable aide he had left behind him in his wife.

Kemp sat upon the top step, and leaned his back against the railing; although outwardly he kept up a constant low run of conversation with Mrs. Levice, who swayed to and fro in her rocker, he was intently conscious of Ruth's white figure perched on the window-sill.

How Mrs. Levice happened to broach the subject, Ruth never knew; but she was rather startled when she perceived that Kemp was addressing her.

"I should like to show my prowess to you, Miss Levice."

"In what?" she asked, somewhat dazed.

"Ruth, Ruth," laughed her mother, "do you mean to say you have not heard a word of all my glowing compliments on your rowing?"

"And I was telling your mother that in all modesty I was considered a fine oar at my Alma Mater."

"And I hazarded the suggestion," added Mrs. Levice, "that as it is such a beautiful night, there is nothing to prevent your taking a little row, and then each can judge of the other's claim to superiority?"

"My claim has never been justly established," said Ruth. "I have never allowed any one to usurp my oars."

"As yet," corrected Kemp. "Then will you wrap something about you and come down to the river?"

"Certainly she will," answered her mother; "run in and get some wraps, Ruth."

"You will come too, Mamma?"

"Of course; but considering Dr. Kemp's length, a third in your little boat will be the proverbial trumpery. Still, I suppose I can rely on you two crack oarsmen, though you know the slightest tremble in the boat in the fairest weather is likely to create a squall on my part."

If Dr. Kemp wished to row, he should row; and since the Jewish Mrs.

Grundy was not on hand, anything harmlessly enjoyable was permissible.

Ruth went indoors. This was certainly something she had not bargained for. How could her mother be so blind as not to know or feel her desire to evade Dr. Kemp? She felt a positive contempt for herself that his presence should affect her as it did; she dared not look at him lest her heart should flutter to her eyes. Probably the display amused him. What was she to him anyway but a girl with whom he could flirt in his idle moments? Well (with a pa.s.sionate fling of her arms), she would extinguish her uncontrollable little beater for the nonce; she would meet and answer every one of his long glances in kind.

She wound a black lace shawl around her head, and with some wraps for her mother, came out.

"Hadn't you better put something over your shoulders?" he asked deferentially as she appeared.