"Well?"
"What did you make out of his sermon this morning?"
"Why, Ruth, I--What did you make out of it?"
"I made out that the poor boy is very, very unhappy."
"Did you? Well, he is; and in a certain way I'm to blame for it."
The girl's smile was tender. "Was there ever anything the matter with
Arthur, and you didn't think you were in some way to blame for it?"
"Oh, now, don't confuse me with Leonard. Anyhow, I'm to blame this time!
Has Isabel told you anything, Ruth?"
"Yes, Isabel has told me!"
"Told you they are engaged?"
"Told me they are engaged!"
"Well," said the young man, "Arthur told me last night; and I took an
elder brother's liberty to tell him he had played Leonard a vile trick."
"Godfrey!"
"That would make a much happier nature than Arthur's unhappy, wouldn't
it?"
Ruth was too much pained to reply, but she turned and called cheerily,
"Father, do you know where Leonard is?"
The father gathered his voice and answered huskily, laying one hand upon
his chest, and with the other gesturing up by the Winslow elm to the
grove behind it.
She nodded. "Yes!... With Arthur, you say?... Yes!... Thank you!...
Yes!" She passed with Godfrey through the wide gate.
"That's like Leonard," said the lover. "He'll tell Arthur he hasn't done
a thing he hadn't a perfect right to do."
"And Arthur has not, Godfrey. He has only been less chivalrous than we
should have liked him to be.
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