wasn't going to Harriett's for an hour, that she was
going to do something else first. There had been a moment of actually
hating her father when, in wanting to help her, he stepped in the way of
a thing he knew nothing about. That, it seemed, was what happened
between people when things could not be told.

Mrs. Holland, seeing that Ruth's hand was unsteady, went on, in a voice
meant to soothe: "Just take it a little easier, dear. What under the sun
have you got to do but enjoy yourself? Don't get in such a flutter about
it." She sighed and murmured, from the far ground of experience: "Wait
till you have a real worry."

Ruth was pinning on her hat. She laughed in a jerky little way and said,
in a light voice that was slightly tremulous: "I did get a little
fussed, didn't I? But you see I wanted to get over to Edith's before
dinner time. She wants to talk to me about her shower for Cora
Albright."

"But you have all evening to talk that over, haven't you?" calmly
admonished Mrs. Holland.

"Why, of course," Ruth answered, a little crisply, starting for the
door.

"Your petticoat's showing," her mother called to her. "Here, I'll pin it
up for you."

"Oh, let it _go_!" cried Ruth desperately. "I'll fix it at Edith's," she
added hurriedly.

"Ruth, are you crazy?" her mother demanded. "Going through the streets
with your petticoat showing! I guess you're in no such hurry as that."

It was while she was pinning up the skirt that Mrs. Holland remarked:
"Oh, I very nearly forgot to tell you; Deane's going over there for you
tonight."

Then to the mother's utter bewilderment and consternation Ruth covered
her face with her hands and burst into sobs.

"Why, my _dear_," she murmured; "why, Ruth _dear_, what _is_ the
matter?"

Ruth sank down on the bed, leaning her head against the foot of it,
shaking with sobs. Her mother stood over her murmuring, "Why, my dear,
what _is_ the matter?"

Ruth, trying to stop crying, began to laugh. "I didn't know he was
coming! I was so surprised. We've quarrelled!" she gulped out
desperately.

"Why, he was just as natural and nice as could be over the 'phone," said
Mrs. Holland, pouring some water in the bowl that Ruth might bathe her
eyes. "Really, my dear, it seems to me you make too much of things. He
wanted to come here, and when I told him you were going to be at
Edith's, he said he'd go there. I'm sure he was just as nice as could
be."

Ruth was bathing her eyes, her body