"Oh, wait!" whispered Rose; "let me tell you everything before you make me
live again."
"I know everything; and truly, Rose, nothing you can say could make me wish
to befriend you less."
"How nobly, how kindly he must have told you!"
"Hush! He told me nothing but the truth. To me you are a victim, not a
culprit. And now, tell me, do you feel perfectly strong?"
"Oh, yes." The little hand swept in agony over her sad, childish face.
"Then you ought to go out for a nice walk. You have no idea how pleasant
it is this morning."
"I can't, indeed I can't! and, oh, why should I?"
"You can and you must, because you must go to work soon."
Two frightened eyes were raised to hers.
"Yes," she added, patting the hand she held; "you are a teacher, are you
not?"
"I was," she replied, the catch in her voice still audible.
"What are you used to teaching?"
"Spanish, and English literature."
"Spanish--with your blue eyes!" The sudden outburst of surprise sent a
faint April-like beam into Rose's face.
"Si, Senorita."
"Then you must teach me. Let me see. Wednesdays, --Wednesday afternoon,
yes?"
Again the frightened eyes appealed to her; but Ruth ignored them.
"And so many of my friends would like to speak Spanish.
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