"You may, darling; you may. But the accounts ain't balanced, Ruthie; we
are on the wrong side of the ledger, my love--on the wrong side of the
ledger."

Ruth said nothing more. She put the book back into the drawer and locked
it. Then she sat down by her grandfather's side.

"Would you rather I got you your dinner," she said, "or would you rather
I talked to you for a little?"

"I'd a sight rather my little Ruth sat near me and let me place my hand
on her hair. Your hair is jet-black, Ruthie--almost blue-black. So was
your father's hair, my child. He was a very handsome boy. I never looked
for it that he would die in the foreign parts and leave you to your
grandmother and me. But you have been a rare blessing to us--a rare
blessing."

"Sometimes I think," said Ruth slowly, "that I have been a great care.
It must have cost you a great deal to feed and clothe me."

"No, no, child; far from that. You were always the bit of good luck--on
the right side of the balance--always, always."

Ruth took the old man's hand and pressed it between both her own.
Presently she rubbed her cheeks softly against it.

"Grandfather," she said, "are you all right now--quite wide awake, I
mean? Has the dream about the shop and the wrong accounts passed out of
your head?"

"Why, yes, darling; of course it was only a dream."

"Then I'd like to ask you something."

"Ask away, my little Ruth. You are such a busy little maid now, what
with your school, and what with your lessons, and what with that big
scholarship--sixty pounds a year. Ah! we shall have a fine right side of
the ledger when little Ruth has brought home sixty pounds a year."

Ruth stifled a groan.

"I am rather puzzled," she said, "and I want to put a question to you."

"Yes, my darling; I am prepared to listen."

"I know a girl," said Ruth after a pause--she thought that she would
tell her story that way--"I know a girl at school, and she has been
kindly treated. She is one of the foundation girls, but some of the
girls who are not foundationers have singled her out and been specially
good to her."

"Eh, eh! Well, that's good of them," said old Mr. Craven.

"They have been very good to her; but that Irish girl whom I told you
about, she started a society--no special harm in itself--at least it
didn't seem harm to the girl I have been telling you about, and she
joined it. She joined it for a bit, and she liked it--that is, on the
whole--but afterwards a girl w