CHAPTER XIIIHOME AGAIN
Winifred awakened suddenly. For a moment she looked about with startled eyes.
"Winifred! Winifred!"
"That is Mother calling," she exclaimed aloud, springing to her feet, and resting one hand against the smooth trunk of the pine tree. For a moment she was too surprised and sleepy to respond to the call; then she called back, "Mother! I'm in the woods!" at the same time moving slowly around to the other side of the big tree.
"Oh! There's a light! And there's the road! And there is Mother!" and stumbling and running Winifred appeared in the road only a short distance from the flickering light of the lantern.
"Mother! Mother! Did you come all alone?" called Winifred, as her mother held her close as if, thought the little girl, "I had been away a long time."
"I thought I was way in the deep woods, and I was close to the road all the time. But Fluff is lost," she explained, as her mother led her toward the cart.
"No, dear; Fluff passed us on our way home, and will probably be safe in his stall long before we get back," replied Mrs. Merrill, and as they drove through the darkness she told her little daughter of how troubled she and Mrs. Pennell had been as the afternoon passed and Winifred and Ruth failed to return; of Gilbert borrowing Ned's pony, of meeting Ruth, "and I have been here an hour, calling and calling," she concluded.
"How sound asleep I must have been not to hear you," said Winifred happily, snuggling closer to her mother's side.
"After Fluff ran off I began to be frightened," she continued. "I thought of catamounts and bears; and then I thought of my sampler."
"Your sampler?" repeated Mrs. Merrill, not understanding just what Winifred meant.
"Yes, Mother dear! Don't you remember the words you traced on it? 'There shall no evil befall thee. For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thyways,'" repeated the little girl. "I kept saying it over and over and I was not afraid."
For a moment Mrs. Merrill did not reply. She stooped and kissed her little daughter, and then said: "That was right, dear child."
It was nearly midnight when Mrs. Merrill and Winifred reached home, and Gilbert lifted a very sleepy little girl from the pony-cart. "Mrs. Pennell and Ruth are here," he said, "and she has some hot broth ready."
Gilbert looked after Ned's pony before following his mother and sister into the house. Mrs. Pennell had already prepared his supper and he had eaten it with Ruth on reaching home after their long walk; but that seemed a long time ago, and he was quite ready to sit down at the candle-lit table and join the others. The hot broth, toast and damson preserves were very welcome to Winifred and her mother. The little group around the table were all too tired to talk much, but they smiled happily at one another, rejoicing that they were all safe and at home.
It was decided that Mrs. Pennell and Ruth should stay the remainder of the night with the Merrills.
"Hero will take care of our house," Ruth said confidently, as she and her mother entered the pleasant chamber where they were to sleep.
"Mother, you never scold me, do you?" she said, just as Mrs. Pennell extinguished the candle, and smiled happily to herself at her mother's little laugh.
"Why, Ruthie dear! I should hope not. You know 'scold' is an ugly word. There is nothing about it that is fair. It means to 'find fault,' which is never quite fair; do you think it is?" and Ruth agreed that "scold" had an ugly sound.
"We didn't mean to stay away and to worry you," said Ruth.
"Of course you didn't, dear child. Go to sleep," replied her mother, who was thinking to herself that no other little girl was as dear and good as her own little daughter. And, strange as it may seem, Mrs. Merrill was thinking that very same thing about Winifred.
How much there was for the two little friends to talk about the next day! Gilbert and Fluff had started off at an early hour to bring home the pony-cart, and early in the afternoon Betty Hastings came to see Ruth. She knew nothingabout the adventure of the day before, and listened eagerly to Ruth and Winifred as they told of the lonely road, the coming of darkness, and of the deer and fawn that Ruth had seen.
The two younger girls looked at Betty admiringly as they all sat together in Mrs. Pennell's front room. Betty's smooth brown curls under her pretty white straw hat, her shining brown eyes and pleasant smile, and the pretty dress of blue and white plaid, made her well worth their approving glances. Both Ruth and Winifred wondered to themselves why it was that Betty's hands were always clean, her hair smooth, and her dress always neat and in order. They decided, as they had often done before, that it was because Betty was so nearly grown up, nearly thirteen. They were quite sure that being tidy and careful was a gift that came with years.
Ruth always liked to have Betty come to see her.
"It's just like really being grown up when Betty comes," she had explained to her mother, "because we always sit in the front room, and never play dolls." So this afternoon when Mrs. Pennell brought in a tray with the little silverpitcher and sugar bowl, the lustre teapot, and the treasured Canton cups and saucers, together with a plate of round frosted cakes, and Ruth had the pleasure of giving Betty and Winifred a cup of "real tea" she felt herself the most fortunate little girl in Philadelphia.
"'Tis not a taxed tea," Mrs. Pennell declared smilingly; for Americans had refused to receive any tea on which the Government of Great Britain demanded an unlawful tax.
"I came to ask you and Winifred to a May party," said Betty, when she was ready to start for home. "My mother says I may invite a dozen girls to go Maying to some pleasant place on the river, where we can gather flowers, put up a May-pole, and have a picnic lunch. Mother will get some one to drive us all out in a big wagon."
Both Ruth and Winifred were delighted at the invitation, and thanked Betty. May-day was nearly two weeks distant, but they were glad to have so pleasant an invitation. And the front door had hardly closed behind their visitor when Ruth exclaimed:
"We must begin on that table right away, Winifred, so that it will surely be finished byMay-day. I have just remembered that May first is Betty's birthday! Her mother always has a party for her."
"So it is!" responded Winifred, as she followed Ruth toward the shed.
There was a piece of chalk in the drawer of the work-bench, and Ruth, laying the square of smooth dark wood on the top of a barrel, began to mark a large heart, while Winifred stood beside her watching admiringly.
"There!" Ruth exclaimed, as her rather uneven chalk line came to an end. "I guess that is enough to go by. We can make the edges smooth with some of the tools."
Winifred agreed promptly. "I'll make the legs," she volunteered.
"Be sure and have them all the same length," advised Ruth. "You can take this chalk and mark the places where to saw;" and in a few moments Winifred with a small sharp saw was endeavoring to cut through the strips of hard wood selected for table legs, while Ruth with a sharp knife tried in vain to make some impression on the square of mahogany. Snap! went the slender knife-blade!
"Oh, Winifred! quick! I've cut off mythumb!" screamed Ruth, as she raced past the horrified Winifred and ran into the kitchen calling: "Mother! Mother!"
In a moment her mother was beside her; the injured thumb was bathed and bandaged, and Ruth was explaining, with Winifred's help, how the accident occurred. It was really a deep cut, and it was no wonder that the little girl had been frightened.
Mrs. Pennell went to the shed with the little girls, and looked with troubled eyes at the cherished pieces of polished wood, and the fine tools scattered about the floor.
"We must put all these tools carefully back in the chest, and the wood on the shelf just as your father left it. Winifred will help me, for you must not use your hand, Ruth," she said.
"But, Mother, we want to make a heart-shaped table for a birthday present for Betty," Ruth explained. "Mayn't we use Father's tools?"
"No, my dear. It would have been a very serious thing if you had spoiled any of his saws or planes. And those strips and squares of wood are valuable. Besides that you and Winifred are not accustomed to the use of tools;and you might really have cut off your thumb instead of only cutting it," said Mrs. Pennell. "I am to blame that I did not tell you how much your dear father valued these tools and wood."
"Oh, Mother! You are never to blame. I ought to have asked you," Ruth declared.
"Well, my dear, I really think it would have been wiser. But now we must think of something else as a present for Betty. With that hurt thumb, Ruth, I am afraid you cannot make her anything," responded her mother, leading the way to the seat under the maple tree.
"Now, let us all try and think of something that Betty would like for a birthday gift," she continued, as they all sat down. Hero came bounding across the yard, and took his usual place at Ruth's feet.
"I know! I know exactly what Betty would like," declared Ruth, "and I am sure I could help make it. Candy! She loves candy. Can I not use some of your sugar, Mother, to make some heart-shaped sweets?" For Ruth had some tiny heart-shaped molds of tin, into which hot candy mixture could be turned, and that when cool came out in perfect shapes.
"That will be better than a table," said Winifred eagerly, "and I know my mother will give me some sugar for such a purpose. And, Ruth! we can make a heart-shaped box of paper to put it in."
Mrs. Pennell listened smilingly as the two little girls made their plan for their friend's birthday gift. She promised to give them a portion of her scanty store of sugar.
"You will not need to make it for a week to come; and Ruth's thumb will be well by that time. You may have the kitchen to yourselves on the last day of April," she said.
Ruth quite forgot the ugly cut in her excitement over the proposed candy-making.
"I am glad May is only ten days away," she said. "Just think of all that is going to happen next month! Betty's birthday picnic, and my visit to Aunt Deborah! And perhaps even more than that. Perhaps I shall see Lafayette! And perhaps the English will leave Philadelphia."
Both her mother and Winifred laughed at Ruth's eager prophecy.
CHAPTER XIVTHE CANDY DISAPPEARS
Gilbert and Winifred often talked to Ruth of their soldier brother, Vinal; and she never tired of hearing the story of a midnight visit he had made during the previous winter.
He had arrived home late one afternoon, coming up the street as if there were not an English soldier in the city, and had stayed the night in his own home, departing early the next morning for Valley Forge. It was just such an adventure as the children admired, and would have well liked to have had some part in.
Gilbert had reluctantly given up the plan of changing his name to Lafayette. No one seemed to remember his wish, and after a few weeks he no longer reminded Ruth or Winifred.
As the time of Ruth's visit to Barren Hill drew near she made many pleasant plans of all she would see and do while at Aunt Deborah'ssquare stone house, and recalled all that her aunt had told her of the beehives in a sunny corner of the garden, the flocks of chickens, the many birds that nested safely in the orchard trees, and the big attic that would be such a fine play-house on stormy days. But most of all Ruth thought of the fact that Barren Hill was only ten miles distant from Valley Forge, and that there might be some way in which she could see her father.
"I wish I could find out that the English were going to leave Philadelphia, and then I would have good news for Father," she thought. "Or if I could carry a fine present for Father to give Lafayette." But there seemed little prospect that a little girl like Ruth could be the bearer of good news to the troops at Valley Forge, or of a present to the gallant young Frenchman.
Ruth's thumb healed in a few days, so that she could help her mother in the garden, and do her usual work about the house. Every morning, directly after breakfast, was the lesson hour, when Mrs. Pennell and Ruth would sit down in the dining-room and, as Ruth had described it to Aunt Deborah, "Tell stories."
There were "history" stories, and these Ruth liked best of all. One was the story of the first Quaker emigrants who came to Philadelphia in three small ships, bringing a friendly letter from the good-natured King Charles to the Delaware Indians. She liked to hear how these people sailed safely across the Atlantic and came up the Delaware, and first found shelter in caves along the river's bank, and then built themselves log cabins, and big strong houses.
Then there were stories of the stars, by which sailors steered their course at sea, and there were stories of birds and beasts, and a very amusing game in which a small girl from Japan and another from China, and a little black girl from Africa, each recited the way children were taught in those countries.
Mrs. Pennell did not always tell the stories, no, indeed! Often Ruth would be asked to tell the story of William Penn, or perhaps to draw a little picture of certain constellations. And always there was the adding of apples, the dividing of apples into four parts and eight parts, which Mrs. Pennell called "Fractions." And after this pleasant hour there were the neat stitches to be set in apron, dress, or handkerchief.
Nearly every child had regular tasks; they were taught to use their hands as well as their eyes and thoughts, and Ruth was very proud that she could hemstitch nicely, and "set the heel" of a stocking, and finish off its toe.
After Vinal brought the letter from Ruth's father Mrs. Pennell seemed more cheerful, and often said that she was sure it would not be many months before Philadelphia would be rid of the enemy.
Ruth and Winifred counted the days until the last day of April, when they were to make the candy as a present for Betty. The pretty heart-shaped box that was to hold it was already finished. Mrs. Pennell had helped them make it. She had carefully shaped it from pasteboard, and then, with a flour paste, the little girls had covered it carefully with some pretty bits of wall-paper. The cover had three tiny hearts cut from gilt paper, and Ruth and Winifred were both sure that Betty would be much pleased by their gift, especially when she opened it and found it full of sweets.
Ruth had just finished her lesson hour on the morning of the day before the May-day picnic, when Winifred appeared. She brought a packageof sugar that her mother had given her as her share for the candy, and the two little girls ran to the kitchen, which they were to have quite to themselves for their candy-making.
The family cooking was done over the bed of coals in the fireplace, and Ruth brought out a saucepan, a big spoon, and some sugar from the pantry, and talking happily of the pleasures of the coming day the two little friends measured their sugar and set the saucepan over the coals, while Ruth, spoon in hand, watched it carefully, while Winifred stood close by ready to help.
It was a great event to be permitted to make candy, and both Winifred and Ruth decided that it would be a much more acceptable present than a table.
In a short time the melted sugar, flavored with rose leaves, was ready to be turned into the tiny heart-shaped molds, and set to cool on the window ledge.
"Let's go out in the garden," suggested Ruth. "If we stay in here we shall keep looking at the candy to see if it is ready to turn out, and it will seem forever." So they went out to the seat under the maple tree, played with Hero, talked about the May party and the time, nownear at hand, when Ruth would go to visit Aunt Deborah, and nearly an hour passed before they returned to the kitchen.
"Why, where are the molds?" exclaimed Ruth. "Where is the candy?" demanded Winifred, and they looked at the vacant window-sill where they had left the sweets to cool.
"Mother must have put them in the pantry," said Ruth.
"Of course," Winifred agreed, and the little girls exchanged a smile of relief as they both turned toward the pantry.
But the candy was not there.
"I'll run and ask her where she put it," said Ruth, and hurried off to find her mother who was busy in one of the upper rooms.
"But I have not been down-stairs, dear child," Mrs. Pennell replied. "You do not suppose the molds have fallen out of the window?" she asked, and without stopping to answer Ruth ran back to the kitchen, and leaned out of the window, but there was no candy to be seen.
"Oh, Ruth! The box is gone, too! Some one must have come in and taken it!" said Winifred; and, sure enough, the pretty box had disappeared from the table as well as the moldsfrom the window. Both the little girls were ready to cry with disappointment.
They knew that each of the other guests would bring Betty a present, and they knew also that their mothers could not spare any more sugar for candy. Besides this the pretty box was gone, and they had no more bits of paper to make another.
"I shan't go to the party," Ruth declared. "And who could have been mean enough to take the candy?"
Mrs. Pennell was nearly as troubled as Ruth and Winnie. It was evident that some one must have entered the house by the front door, taken the candy, and made off while the girls were in the garden. She feared that other things must have been taken, but a careful search proved that nothing else was missing.
Winifred agreed with Ruth that they did not wish to go to the party without a present for Betty. "And now it is too late to even think of anything," she said as she started for home, leaving Ruth puzzled and unhappy, and wondering to herself if perhaps some ill-natured fairies had not made off with the sweets. The more Ruth thought of this the more convinced she was thatit was what had happened. She remembered hearing queer little noises at her window that morning that she had thought were made by the birds nesting in the hawthorn. Now she said to herself that it must have been fairies coming into the house. "And because I did not make them welcome they have taken the candy," she decided, remembering a fairy tale that Mrs. Merrill had once told the two girls in which children had always welcomed fairies who came tapping at the windows of a spring morning, by singing:
"Welcome, fairies good and kind;Come in, come in, and welcome find."
In the story the fairies had brought wonderful gifts, but if they had not been welcomed they would have taken the children's dearest possessions, which could only be recovered by walking around the garden just before sunrise and bowing low three times to the lilac, three times to a robin, and three times with your eyes shut tight, repeating each time:
"Fairies, fairies, here I bow.Will you kindly pardon nowThat I did not hear or seeWhen you came to visit me?"
Ruth was glad that she could remember it.
"I'll get up before sunrise to-morrow morning and do exactly as the little girl did in the story when the fairies brought back her silver heart, and then probably when I open my eyes there will be the box and the candy," thought Ruth.
"Why, of course, it was because the box and the candies were heart-shaped," she decided; "that's another reason I'm sure it was fairies. It will be splendid if I can get them back. I won't tell Winifred until after breakfast to-morrow. Won't she be surprised?"
Mrs. Pennell wondered a little that Ruth was in such good spirits the rest of the day, after the disappearance of the candy, and that she was so ready to go to bed at an hour earlier than the usual time.
CHAPTER XVA FAIRY STORY
When Gilbert took the pan of candy-molds from the open window of Mrs. Pennell's kitchen, and, reaching in captured the heart-shaped box from the table, his only intention was to keep them just long enough to puzzle Ruth and Winifred and then return them. When the girls came back to the kitchen he had run into the shed, and set box and pan in the open drawer of the work-bench and closed it quickly, and had then gone home to attend to some garden work, meaning to come back in an hour at the longest; but his mother had sent him on an errand, and it was noon before Gilbert remembered the candy; and then Winifred was telling the story of its disappearance:
"You wouldn't think any one would be so mean as to take our candy," she concluded, and Gilbert felt his face flush uncomfortably, and realized that it was going to be very difficult to explain what he had intended for a joke toRuth and Winifred. In some way he must get that candy and box back to the place from which he had taken it, or else tell the girls what he had done; and this last alternative would be unpleasant. All that afternoon he was on the alert for a chance to slip into the Pennells' garden, enter the shed and rescue the hidden sweets; but the day was warm and pleasant, and Ruth and Winifred with their dolls and Hero were out-of-doors playing about in the shade of the maple tree until it was too late for Gilbert to carry out his plan; so that he was as uneasy and troubled as Ruth or Winifred over the missing candy, and not until evening could he think of any way to recover it.
He was just closing the stable for the night when he noticed the shallow basket of woven grass and twigs which Winifred had made on the eventful afternoon's journey along the river road. The violets and wild honeysuckle were now only dried up stems; but the basket looked serviceable and attractive. Gilbert smiled as he picked it up. He knew now exactly what he would do: he would get up very early the next morning, gather daffodils and iris and then take the basket to Mrs. Pennell's shed,—take thecandy from the molds, fill the box, and setting the box in Winifred's grass basket cover it with flowers; then he would hang it to the knocker of the Pennells' front door.
"The girls will think the fairies did it for a May-day surprise," he chuckled to himself, remembering that Winifred could never quite decide about fairies: if there really were such wonderful little people or not.
So Gilbert was up before sunrise the next morning, and with a friendly word to Hero, found it an easy matter to enter the shed quietly and take the candy and box from the bench drawer. In a few moments he had filled the box skilfully without breaking one of the tiny hearts, set it in the basket and covered it with the spring blossoms. He was just about to leave the shed when he heard a voice, and peering out saw Ruth bowing to the lilac tree and saying in a low voice:
"Fairies, fairies, here I bow.Will you kindly pardon nowThat I did not hear or seeWhen you came to visit me?"
"Jiminy! It's that old fairy story Mother tells; and Ruth believes it," thought Gilbert,as he watched Ruth bowing low to a startled robin, which flew up to a higher branch in the hawthorn tree. She was so much absorbed in what she was doing that she did not hear the stealthy step behind her on the soft grass as Gilbert swiftly set down the mold pan and the basket, and flew back to the shop. He had just reached its shelter when Ruth turned to go back to the house and saw the basket.
She looked at it for a moment as if she could hardly believe her eyes; and as she stooped to pick it up Ruth fully expected that basket, pan and tin molds would all vanish from sight. But no! They were real; and, quite as Ruth expected, the box, filled with candy hearts, was under the flowers.
"Oh! what will Winifred say?" she whispered to herself. And then she bowed to the lilac tree and to the robin, and said, "Thank you, kind fairies. I will always know now that you are true and kind," and then Ruth ran into the house to wake up her mother and tell her this wonderful story, and show her the basket in proof of the fairies' visit.
Gilbert hurried home. He was delighted with the success of his plan, but a little troubledthat Ruth should believe so implicitly that fairies had first taken and then returned the candy.
Mrs. Pennell listened to Ruth's story and looked at the basket with as much wonder and surprise as even Ruth could expect. Although she did not deny that fairies had a hand in the return of the candy, she endeavored to explain to herself just how it could have occurred. But she remembered how much happiness she herself had had as a small girl in believing in good fairies, and was quite willing that her own little daughter should have the same pleasure.
The Merrills were just sitting down to an early breakfast when Ruth came over to tell Winifred that the candy had been found, but she did not tell all the story, for she knew Gilbert laughed at fairies.
"I'll tell you all about it on the way to Betty's," she said, for it had been arranged that Betty's guests should all meet at her house, where the wagons would be in readiness to take them to a favorite picnic ground, a green sloping field on the banks of the Schuylkill River, where there were groups of wide-spreading elms and where many spring flowers grew.
Winifred was so eager to hear about the return of the candy that she could hardly wait to finish her breakfast. Ruth had not lingered after telling the great news, but had run home to make ready for the picnic.
Gilbert continued to feel uneasy about his part in the fairy story, and after Ruth and Winifred had started for the May party he followed his mother into the garden and offered to help her transplant the young seedlings.
"Mother, do you think there is any harm in believing in fairies?" he asked, and before his mother could reply Gilbert was telling her the story.
"Ruth seemed more pleased about the fairies than she did to get the candy back," he concluded, "and I don't think there is any harm in fairies, do you?"
"Why, no, Gilbert! I am always hoping that they really are true," replied his mother smilingly.
"Oh, Mother! You are as bad as Ruth," laughed Gilbert; "but do you think I ought to tell Ruth that I hid the candy, and then brought it back?"
"No, not at present. Some time in the futureyou can tell Ruth about it, if you wish, but I think it would be too bad to spoil her pleasure to-day. But perhaps you had better ask Mrs. Pennell, and then do whatever she thinks best," replied his mother.
The thought of telling Mrs. Pennell of his mischievous act made Gilbert rather uncomfortable, but he responded promptly:
"All right, Mother. I'll go now," and ran toward the house to wash his hands before presenting himself at Mrs. Pennell's door.
"So that was it. I could not imagine how it happened," said Mrs. Pennell when Gilbert had told of hiding the candy, and of meaning to return it as a May basket. She agreed with Mrs. Merrill that Ruth could be told the facts later on, and did not seem to feel that Gilbert's joke had been anything but natural and harmless, so Gilbert returned home with an untroubled mind.
Betty had asked her little guests to be at her house at half-past ten o'clock, and when Ruth and Winifred came down the street they saw a big wagon with two big brown horses standing in front of Betty's house; just behind the big wagon was a smaller one which Dinah was helping to load with baskets and packages.
"That's the lunch wagon," said Winifred. "Oh, Ruth! I'm sure we are going to have a beautiful time. What do you suppose Betty will say when you tell her about the fairies?"
"I don't know. But probably she will think she is lucky to have a basket made by fairies," responded Ruth, who did not know the story of the basket that she carried so carefully.
"I made that basket. Truly I did, Ruth," Winifred declared eagerly.
Ruth's smile vanished. She stood still and looked at Winifred accusingly.
"Then I suppose there weren't any fairies at all? If you made the basket you probably put the candy in it and set it in my garden for me to find. And you let me tell you all about bowing to the lilac tree, and never said a word," exclaimed Ruth; "and I suppose you have been laughing at me all the time," she concluded, a little choke coming in her throat at the thought that her best friend, as well as the fairies, had failed her.
Before Winifred could say a word Ruth ran ahead as fast as she could go. Betty was on the steps, and a number of the girls who were going on the picnic were with her. She greeted Ruthwarmly, and when Ruth explained that the basket was from Winifred and herself Betty was greatly pleased. She was looking at the basket and box admiringly when Winnie appeared.
"Did Ruth tell you that is a fairy present?" she asked eagerly, and at the little chorus of laughter and questions, Winifred went on and told the story just as Ruth had told it to her, while Ruth stood by looking rather sulky and unhappy. The moment Winifred finished Ruth stepped forward and said:
"That's a good story, but it isn't true. About the fairies, I mean. Not one word of it. And Winifred knows it isn't."
CHAPTER XVIBETTY AND ANNETTE
The girls' laughter ceased, and they looked at Ruth a little questioningly as if expecting that she would explain. But it was Betty who, slipping her arm around Winifred, said pleasantly: "Well, we are all obliged to Winnie for telling us such a beautiful story. And I am sure it is just what the fairies would do if they happened to think of it."
Winifred looked up at the older girl gratefully, but she felt very unhappy. She could not understand why Ruth, her very best friend, should have turned against her, and denied the story.
Ruth stood, sulky and silent, and a little ashamed, as the other guests arrived; and when Betty declared that it was time to start and led the way toward the big wagon, Ruth walked alone and was the last one of Betty's guests to climb up to her seat.
There were ten little girls in the party, and Black Jason, Dinah's husband, was to drive the team. Mrs. Hastings sat on the back seat between Betty and Ruth; the small wagon with the good things for the birthday luncheon followed close behind, driven by a friend of Jason's.
The other girls laughed and talked merrily as the big horses trotted briskly through the streets leading to the river. But Ruth was silent, except when Mrs. Hastings spoke to her; then she answered as pleasantly as possible, but she had no pleasure in the ride. Now and then they passed groups of English soldiers; and as they turned into the river road several red-coated officers on horseback rode past them.
"We wish you a happy May, young ladies," called one of the officers, bowing very low as he rode past the wagon filled with happy girls.
There was no response to his polite salutation; for even the children of the historic city resented the presence of the English soldiery.
"Mother, sing your May-day song," suggested Betty.
But Mrs. Hastings shook her head laughingly.
"I must save that for our dance round theMay-pole," she replied, "and we shall soon be at the picnic field now."
The field was very near the place where Ruth and Winifred had turned into the hill road, and the May party reached it after not more than an hour's ride. Black Jason drove through the field toward the river bank, and stopped under a group of tall elms. In a few moments the girls were scattered about searching for flowers. Black Jason and his friend unloaded the lunch wagon, and then Mrs. Hastings called the girls to decide on the best place to erect the May-pole, a fine birch tree that Black Jason was now chopping down.
"There are so many good places!" exclaimed Betty, looking about the smooth field. "I think this is the best," she decided finally, as, with her guests beside her, she stopped near the edge of a wood.
It was just the place for a May-pole, the other girls declared, as they looked about; and Black Jason and his friend set up the tall birch tree, whose green branches were more beautiful than any decoration that the girls could have imagined. While Mrs. Hastings and Betty spread the lunch in the shade of the woods, the othergirls gathered flowers and wove garlands for each other, and talked happily together. Ruth found herself seated beside Annette Tennant, a girl about Betty's age.
"I will give you my wreath, and you can give me yours," said the older girl. "You are rather young to be asked to this party," she continued, looking at Ruth.
"I am nearly eleven," replied Ruth. "Winifred Merrill isn't any older than that."
"I noticed there were two little girls," rejoined Annette condescendingly. "You mustn't mind if most of us are older. I always like children," went on Annette, who was even taller than Betty Hastings, and whose yellow hair was braided neatly and wound around her head.
Ruth made no reply. She was feeling a little ashamed that she had declared Winifred's story to be untrue. Even if Winnie had set the basket in the garden and let her go about bowing to trees and birds Ruth felt that she herself had been rude and unkind.
"What made that other child tell all that rigmarole about fairies?" questioned Annette. "I was glad when you spoke up and said thatit was not true. Of course we older girls knew she was making it up."
Suddenly Ruth became perfectly sure that Winifred had had nothing to do with the discovery of the candy, and that Winifred had really believed the fairies had brought it back, using her basket for the purpose.
"Winifred didn't make it up," declared Ruth. "It was exactly as she told it. The fairies did take away the candy, and bring it back."
Annette stopped weaving the vines and flowers, and jumped up.
"Well, you are a very funny child. You tell us all that Winifred Merrill made up a story, and now you tell me that it was true," she exclaimed scornfully. "You need not give me your garland; I don't want it, or anything to do with you," and before Ruth could say a word in reply Annette had joined a group of the older girls, and was evidently telling them her opinion of Ruth Pennell.
Ruth looked down through a blur of tears at the wreath she was making. She could hardly see the flowers in her lap.
"I wish I had stayed at home. I hate grown-up girls," she thought bitterly, wishingherself in her own garden with Hero and Cecilia for playmates.
The sound of Betty's voice calling to her guests that luncheon was ready made Ruth look up. She saw the other girls walking toward the shade of the tall elms where Mrs. Hastings stood waiting for them. Winifred was evidently in high favor; Annette walked on one side and Mary Pierce on the other, each with an arm about the pleased but somewhat embarrassed Winifred.
"Ruth! Ruthie Pennell! We are all waiting for you," called Betty, and Ruth followed the others.
It was evident at once that none of the girls meant to sit beside Ruth if it could be avoided. Annette had declared that she believed Ruth to be a mischief-maker, and untruthful, and that it was the duty of the older girls to "teach her a lesson."
"We must let the child realize that older girls don't approve of such things," Annette had said, and the others agreed that the best way to express their disapproval was to leave Ruth to herself as much as possible.
Winifred was now more puzzled than ever.
When Annette had repeated Ruth's declaration that Winifred's story was true, that fairies had returned the candy, she did not know what to think.
"I'm sure Ruthie was only fooling," Winifred declared bravely. "I mean when she said that I made up the story about the candy. Because it was just what she told me."
"Then the child must be taught that we don't like such fooling," responded Annette, with what she felt was a very grown-up and impressive manner.
"Sit here, Ruth," said Betty, wondering at the manner of the older girls, "and, Winifred, come and sit beside her."
Winifred was quite ready to change her seat as Betty suggested, but Annette's hand clasped her arm, and it was Annette who answered: "Winnie would rather sit here, beside me."
"All right," responded Betty. "Then I'll have Ruthie for my helper. I can always depend on you, Ruth, can't I?" she added, smiling at her young friend.
"Always," whispered Ruth, gratefully; and it was she who helped Betty serve the other girls with the excellent cold chicken, and bread,and butter, the jelly-filled tarts, and squares of molasses gingerbread, so that Annette's proposed "lesson" bid fair to be defeated.
"What's the matter, Ruthie?" Betty found a chance to whisper, as they sat down together a little way from the larger group.
Ruth told the story eagerly. "I don't know why I thought Winnie had put the basket there, or why I was so horrid as to say that she told a story," confessed the unhappy little girl. "Do you suppose it really was the fairies, Betty?"
Betty looked rather sober for a minute. She was thinking to herself that her May-day party bid fair to be a failure unless her guests could realize that Ruth had only made a mistake for which she was sorry. She blamed Annette more than she did Ruth, feeling sure that Winifred and Ruth would have come to a friendly understanding if Annette had not interfered.
"I have a plan, Ruthie, that perhaps will make it all right. Will you do just what I tell you?"
"Yes, indeed I will," responded Ruth gratefully.
Mrs. Hastings had left the girls to themselves and gone over to the May-pole.
"Come here, Winifred," called Betty, and this time Annette made no objection, and in a moment Winifred was sitting beside Ruth, and both the little girls were thinking that Betty was much nicer than any other "grown-up" girl in the party.
"Ruth Pennell is going to tell us a story," announced Betty. "She doesn't know if it really is true or not. For a little while she thought her best friend had taken the part of a fairy, but afterward she was sure she had not. Now, Ruth," and Betty turned smilingly toward her little friend, "stand up and tell us all about it; about the making my candy, how it disappeared, and what you did to recover it. Then, when you have finished, we will take a vote and see how many of us believe in fairies."
For a moment Ruth hesitated, but Winifred's friendly smile encouraged her and she stood up. She did not look at the group of girls sitting about under the trees; she looked straight over their heads at the river, and began to speak, beginning her story with the discovery that the candy had disappeared. She spoke clearly, and when she finished by saying that she was sorry that she had been rude to Winifred, because sheand Winifred both rather believed in fairies, there was a little murmur of approval.
"Now, girls, all those who believe in fairies stand up," said Betty, jumping to her feet, and reaching out a hand to the girls beside her, and at the same time beginning to sing:
"'Here are fields of smiling flowers—Come and seek May in her bowers.Catch young May.Make her stay;Dance around her bright and gay.'"
Nearly all the girls knew the song and joined in singing, as hand in hand they ran across the smooth grass toward the May-pole, where Mrs. Hastings stood waiting for them. And now Ruth was her happy, smiling self again, and Annette was no longer eager to teach "lessons" to the younger girls. Annette and Ruth were both conscious, however, that Betty, with her frank kindness, had smoothed out their mistakes.