A Little Maid of Old Philadelphia | Page 6

her little niece
when Ruth came home with the cardboard ready to be covered. She did
not ask Ruth to set the table for supper, but began to spread the cloth
herself.
"I will do that, Aunt Deborah. You know I always do," Ruth said,
laying down the parts for the dolls' chair, and coming toward the table.
"I will do it. Thou mayst go to thy room, Ruth; I will call thee when
supper is ready," Aunt Deborah replied, without a glance at the little
girl.
Ruth felt her face flush uncomfortably as she suddenly recalled the way
in which she had spoken to Aunt Deborah after her aunt had led her
away from the porch where the English soldiers were sitting, and where
Ruth was sure Hero was hidden. She went up the stairs very slowly to
her own chamber, a small room opening from the large front room
where Aunt Deborah slept. She sat down near the window, feeling not
only ashamed but very unhappy.
"If my mother were only here I shouldn't be sent off up-stairs. I don't
like Aunt Deborah," she exclaimed, and looked up to see her aunt
standing in the doorway.
For a moment the two looked at each other, and Ruth could see that
Aunt Deborah was trying very hard to keep back the tears. Then the

door closed, very softly, and Ruth was again alone.
"Oh, dear," she whispered, "and I promised my mother to do everything
I could to help Aunt Deborah, and now she heard me say that I don't
like her," and Ruth leaned her head against the arm of the big chair in
which she had curled up and began to cry, quite sure that no little girl in
all Philadelphia had as much reason for unhappiness as herself.
After a little she wiped her eyes, and began to think over her
misfortunes: First of all, Hero was lost. Then came all the troubles that,
it seemed to Ruth, Aunt Deborah was to blame for. As she said them
over to herself they appeared sufficient reasons for her dislike: "She is
always fussing. Always telling me to brush my hair, or wash my hands,
or not to soil my dress. And I do believe she is glad that Hero is lost,
and does not wish me to find him because he brings dirt into the
house."
As Ruth finished a sudden resolve came into her mind. She would not
wait for the next day before going to General Howe to tell her story of
Hero's disappearance, and of being sure that he had been taken by an
English soldier. She would go at once. If she waited perhaps Aunt
Deborah would find some way of preventing the carrying out of the
plan.
"Perhaps if General Howe thought I was a grown-up lady, or nearly
grown up, he would pay more attention than to what a little girl might
ask," thought Ruth. And then a great idea flashed into her mind: she
would pretend to be grown up.
"I'll wear Mother's best dress, and do up my hair and wear her bonnet,"
she decided; and opening her chamber door she ran through Aunt
Deborah's room to the deep closet where her mother's best dress, a
pretty gown of russet-colored silk, was hanging. Ruth pulled it down,
slipped it on over her dress of stout brown gingham, and began to
fasten it.
"I didn't know my mother was so big," she thought regretfully, as she
managed to turn back the long sleeves, and glanced down at the full

breadths of the skirt which lay in a big waving circle about her feet. "I'll
have to hold it up as high as I can to walk at all."
In a few minutes the dress was fastened, and she managed to pin up her
hair; and now she drew out the bandbox containing her mother's best
bonnet. It was made of a pretty shade of brown velvet, with a wreath of
delicate green leaves, and strings of pale green ribbon.
Ruth tied the strings firmly under her chin. The bonnet came well down
over her face, nearly hiding her ears, but the little girl thought this was
very fortunate, as it would prevent any one discovering who she was, if
she should happen to meet any friend or acquaintance.
She began to feel hurried and a little afraid that Aunt Deborah might
call her to supper before she could escape from the house. Holding up
the brown silk skirt, and stepping very carefully, she made her way
down the stairs, opened the front door, and with a long breath of relief,
found herself standing on the front porch.
The late afternoon was already growing shadowy with the approach of
twilight; and there was