had
only begged her to say nothing to a soul about either the man or the
letter. And Ruth had kept the secret.
Nearly a fortnight had passed since the occurrence, and it lacked not
many days to the close of the term, when one evening, after a meeting
of the S. B.'s in their usual room over the dining hall, Ruth had been
delayed a bit and was hurrying out alone so as not to be caught out of
the dormitory after warning bell, when old Tony Foyle hailed her.
"I was a-goin' to the West Dormitory to ax Miss Scrimp for to call ye,
Miss Ruthie," said the old Irishman, who--like most of the help about
the school--was fond of the girl from the Red Mill. "Ye're wanted,
Miss."
"Wanted?" asked Ruth, in surprise. "Who by?"
"The Missus wants ye--Missus Tellingham. Ye're ter go straight to her
study, so ye are."
Much disturbed--for she feared there might be bad news from home--Ruth
ran to the main building and knocked on Mrs. Tellingham's door. At her
pleasantly spoken "Come in!" the girl entered and found the Preceptress
at her desk, while the old doctor, quite as blind and deaf to
everything but his own work as usual, was bent over his papers at the
end of the long table. But at this hour, and in the privacy of the
place, he had cocked the brown wig over one ear in the most comical
way, displaying a perfectly bald, shiny patch of pate which made his
naturally high forehead look fairly enormous.
"Nothing to be frightened about, Miss Fielding," said Mrs. Tellingham,
instantly reading aright what she saw in Ruth's countenance. "You need
not be disturbed. For I really do not believe you are at fault in this
matter which has been brought to my notice."
"No, Mrs. Tellingham?" asked Ruth, curiously.
"I have only a question to ask you. Have you lost something--something
that might have been entrusted to you for another person? Some letter,
for instance?"
The color flashed into Ruth's face. She was always thinking about the
note the harpist had given to her on the steamboat to take to Miss
Picolet. She could not hide her trouble from the sharp eyes of Mrs.
Tellingham.
"You _have_ lost something?"
"I don't know whether I should tell you. I don't know that I have a
right to tell you," Ruth stammered.
Mrs. Tellingham looked at her sharply for a minute or so, and then
nodded. Then she said:
"I understand. You have been put on your honor not to tell?"
"Yes, Mrs. Tellingham. It is not my secret."
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