“I did not wish to hurt you by my silence, Mamma; but before I had decided I hardly thought it necessary to say anything. He asked me to--marry him.”
The avowal was not made with the conventional confusion and trembling.
Mrs. Levice was startled by the dead calm of her manner.
“You say that as if it were a daily occurrence for a man like Louis Arnold to offer you his hand and name.”
“But you do. I confess I think you are not one tenth as excited as I am. Why didn’t you tell me before? Any other girl would have sat up to tell her mother in the night. Oh, Ruth darling, I am so glad. I have been looking forward to this ever since you grew up. What did you mean by saying you wished to wait till you had decided? Decided what?”
“As if you could question it, you fortunate girl! Or were you waiting for me to help you to it? I scarcely need tell you how you have been honored.”
At that moment a desperate longing for her mother’s sympathy seized her; but the next minute the knowledge of the needless sorrow it would occasion came to her, and her lips remained closed.
“No,” responded her mother, “and you have more than that; surely Louis did not neglect to tell you.”
“You mean his love, I suppose,--yes, I have that.”
“Then what else would you have? You probably know that he can give you every luxury within reason,--so much for honest practicality. As to Louis himself, the most fastidious could find nothing to cavil at,--he will make you a perfect husband. You are familiar enough with him to know his faults; but no man is faultless. I hope you are not so silly as to expect some girlish ideal,--for all the ideals died in the Golden Age, you know.”
“As mine did. No; I have outgrown imagination in that line.”
“Then why do you hesitate?” Her mother’s eyes were shining; her face was alive with the excitement of hope fulfilled. “Is there anything else wanting?”
“No,” she responded dully; “but let us not talk about it any more, please. I must see Louis again, you know.”
“If your father were here, he could help you better, dear;” there was no reproach in Mrs. Levice’s gentle acceptance of the fact; “he will be so happy over it. There, kiss me, girlie; I know you like to think things out in silence, and I shall not say another word about it till you give me leave.”