The Book of One Syllable | Page 3

seen. She then went
in the room, and what she saw there told her more than words could
tell.
"Ruth!" said she, "can you have done this?"
It was grief to think that a child of hers could have done this; but, much
as she felt hurt, it was not for the loss of these things. Mrs. Grey sat
down, and for a long time she did not move; at length she got up with
the air of one who had made up her mind what it would be best for her
to do.

And Ruth--where was she? What did she think, what did she feel, what
did she do all the time Mrs. Grey was in the green-house room?
What she felt was a kind of grief, such as she had not felt till that time:
it was a sense of deep shame. So much did she dread to see Mrs. Grey,
that she hid her face in her hands, as though Mrs. Grey were near her.
Then all at once she thought that Mrs. Grey would come back to speak
to her.
At this thought she sprang up, ran to her own room, shut the door, and
fell down on the bed. Here she lay for a long time, with her face hid in
the bed-clothes: her tears fell fast, and her sobs were loud. In this sad
state she lay for a long time, till at last she went to sleep.
How long she had slept she could not tell, but when she rose up in the
bed it was quite dark. At first she could not think how she came to be
there, but all at once the green-house scene came back to her mind.
Once more she fell down on the bed to hide her face, though no one
was there to see it.
Soon there came a stream of light through a chink in the door: it grew
more strong, till at length it came in the room in a full blaze. Ruth gave
a quick glance, and saw that it was not Mrs. Grey, but Mrs. Grey's
maid.
"Miss Ruth," said the maid, "I am sent to bid you go down stairs: the
first course is come out of the room, and Mrs. Grey bids me tell you to
go down to see the sweet things. You are to go at once."
Poor Ruth! what did she feel then? She took hold of the maid's hand,
and said,
"Oh, do not, do not let me go! pray do not let me go!"
"You must go, and go at once too, Miss Ruth," said the maid, as she
drew her near the door. "You must come, miss. And see, here is James
sent to take you down."

There was no help for it: down stairs she went, and soon she found that
she was in the room. There she stood! full of shame and deep grief!
And there was spread out each dish of sweets, just as she had left
it--each dish spread out with as much care as if it had been right. The
eyes of all were on Ruth--in vain did she try to shrink from their gaze.
There was a pause; then Mrs. Grey said, "Ruth, come here, and stand
where all my friends can see you."
She came with slow step, her head bent down, and her eyes cast on the
ground.
"I grieve to tell you, my friends," said Mrs. Grey, "that it is Ruth--that it
is this child whom I love so much--that it is she who has made all this
wreck."
There was a pause once more; and there stood Ruth! All had their eyes
on her. At length Mrs. Grey said,
"Now leave the room, Ruth."
Ruth did not stay, she was too glad to be gone at once.
The next day, nor the next, did Mrs. Grey speak of the past, and all
things went on as they were wont to do. But on the third day, when the
first course was gone, a dish that had been in the green-house room was
put near her. It was just in the same state in which Ruth had left it. Ruth
could not bear the sight of it, so she got up and ran out of the room.
"Poor Ruth!" said Mr. Grey to his wife, "she feels this so much! and to
a child like her, who can feel, I think that your plan seems the best way
to cure her."
It was the best way. Ruth felt all this much more than she would have
felt the stroke of a whip: she felt it in her mind.
For a long time, for months and for years, she could not bear to see a
jam cake or