for the moment, quite forgot the visit to Barren
Hill. She told her mother of all the delights of Betty's May-day party,
and when she carried the breakfast dishes out to the kitchen she was
almost her happy self again.

Winifred came over and helped Ruth with the household work that morning,
and early in the afternoon Aunt Clara arrived; who, in spite of Mrs.
Pennell's fears in regard to her strength, declared herself quite equal
to taking care of her sister and attending to the work of the house.

Nevertheless Ruth was kept busy for a number of days; she did not go
very far from her mother's sitting-room, and Mrs. Pennell said that her
little daughter was "hands and feet" for her lame mother.

Mrs. Pennell's fingers were busy making a dress for Ruth. It was of
white linen that Aunt Deborah had woven herself, and brought as a
present to Ruth, and Mrs. Pennell was hemstitching the broad collar and
dainty cuffs.

"Your Aunt Deborah will be pleased if you have the dress to wear when
you visit her," said Mrs. Pennell, a few days after her accident, when
Ruth sat beside her, both busy with their needles.

"But I can't go to Barren Hill, Mother. You couldn't spare me," replied
Ruth.

"Of course you must go to Barren Hill. Not just at present; but in a
week or two I shall be hobbling about the house, and your Aunt Clara
will stay with me while you are away," said Mrs. Pennell.

"Truly? Am I really to go to Barren Hill?" exclaimed Ruth, dropping her
work, and jumping up from her chair. "Oh! I'm so glad."

Mrs. Pennell looked at her little girl in surprise. She had had no idea
how much Ruth had counted on this visit, nor with what disappointment
she had given it up.

"Why, my dear child, you have not said a word about your visit since I
hurt my ankle. I had not an idea that you wished to go so much," she
said.

"I didn't wish to go when you couldn't take a step," Ruth declared.

"Well! I think it is almost worth while to have a sprained ankle to find
out what a good little daughter I have," said her mother. "I feel very
proud indeed. And now I think you had best put on your hat and go and
make Betty Hastings an afternoon visit. It is nearly a week since her
May party."

"I will ask Winifred to go, too," said Ruth eagerly, feeling happier
than she had since her mother's accident.

"You had best change your dress, dear; put on your blue chambray,"
suggested her mother, and Ruth ran off to her own room, singing, "Jo