Part 2 (1/2)
”h.e.l.lo, Deane,” he said, coming out to him; ”thinking of coming in?”
”No, I guess not; it's pretty late. I was just pa.s.sing, and wondering about your father.”
”He went to sleep; seems quiet, and about the same.”
”That's good; hope it will keep up through the night.”
The young fellow did not reply. The doctor was thinking that it must be lonely for him--all alone on the porch after midnight, his father dying upstairs, no member of the immediate family in the house.
”Sent for Cy, Ted?” he asked. Cyrus was the older brother, older than both Ted and Ruth. It was he who had been most bitter against Ruth.
Deane had always believed that if it had not been for Cyrus the rest of them would not have hardened into their pain and humiliation like that.
Ted nodded. ”I had written, and today, after you said what you did, I wired. I had an answer tonight. He has to finish up a deal that will take him a few days, but I am to keep him informed--I told him you said it might be a couple of weeks--and he'll come the first minute he can.”
There was a pause. Deane wanted to say: ”And Ruth?” but that was a hard thing to say to one of the Hollands.
But Ted himself mentioned her. ”Tell you what I'm worrying about, Deane,” he blurted out, ”and that's Ruth!”
Deane nodded appreciatively. He had always liked this young Ted, but there was a new outgoing to him for this.
”Father asked for her this afternoon. I don't care whether he was just right in his mind or not--it shows she's _on_ his mind. 'Hasn't Ruth come in yet!' he asked, several times.”
”You send for her, Ted,” commanded the doctor. ”You ought to. I'll back you up if Cy's disagreeable.”
”He'll be disagreeable all right,” muttered the younger brother.
”Well, what about Harriett?” impatiently demanded Deane. ”Doesn't she see that Ruth ought to be here?” Harriett was Ruth's sister and the eldest of the four children.
”Harriett would be all right,” said Ted, ”if it weren't for that bunch of piety she's married to!”
Deane laughed. ”Not keen for your brother-in-law, Ted?”
”Oh, I'll tell you, Deane,” the boy burst out, ”for a long time I haven't felt just like the rest of the family have about Ruth. It was an awful thing--I know that, but just the same it was pretty tough on _Ruth_. I'll bet she's been up against it, good and plenty, and all we've seemed to think about is the way it put us in bad. Not mother--Cy never did really get mother, you know, but father would have softened if it hadn't been for Cy's everlasting keeping him nagged up to the fact that he'd been wronged! Even Harriett would have been human if it hadn't been for Cy--and that upright husband she's got!”
The boy's face was flushed; he ran his hand back through his hair in an agitated way; it was evident that his heart was hot with feeling about it all. ”I don't know whether you know, Deane,” he said in a lowered voice, ”that mother's last words were for Ruth. They can't deny it, for I was standing nearest her. 'Where's Ruth?' she said; and then at the very last--'Ruth?'”
His voice went unsteady as he repeated it. Deane, nodding, was looking straight down the street.
”Well,” said Ted, after a minute, ”I'm not going to have _that_ happen again. I've been thinking about it. I did write Ruth a week ago. Now I shall write to her before I go to bed tonight and tell her to come home.”
”You do that, Ted,” said the doctor with gruff warmth. ”You do that.
I'll write her too. Ruth wrote to me.”
”Did she?” Ted quickly replied. ”Well”--he hesitated, then threw out in defiant manner and wistful voice, ”well, I guess Ruth'll find she's got one friend when she comes back to her old town.”
”You bet she will,” snapped Deane, adding in another voice: ”She knows that.”
”And as for the family,” Ted went on, ”there are four of us, and I don't know why Ruth and I aren't half of that four. Cy and Harriett haven't got it all to say.”