The Richmond palladium and sun-telegram., 1921-03-09
The Girl Who Had
No Chance
By Marion Rubincam
Chapter 9.
AxIOUS MOMENTS


On the whole. it was good thing
for Ruth that the next few days were
so crowded For while she was wor-.
ried. at least her worries were about
more than her own troubles. There is
always consolation in that.
The evening she went upstairs after
sitting in the cold on the top Of the
porch she found her father lying prop
ped up by pillows, with an open VOL
ume of Montaigne's Essays in his
hand.
Lets read some of these this eve.
ming" he suggested, handing her the
book. ~ t.....
Ruth had been but recently intro
duced to Montaigne. She and her
father had read through most of the
good old classics-Duncan O'Neil had
a special fondness of the later writer's
like Scott and Dickens, Thackeray and
Byron. The year before they had
read every kipling book in the free
library, and before that, in Ruth's jun
ior year. they had gone through many
Of what Duncan called the ancient
classics" This was when Ruth was
studying ancient history, and the old
Greek and Roman plays and orations
that her father made her read. had
done much to make vivid to her the
world of two thousand years before.
But the Medieval French philoso-
pher was new TO her. The first time
she had delighted in his simple COM
mon sense, his CHEEKY outlook, his oc-
casional mild cynicism. But tonight
she could not keep her mind on what
she was reading.
For there are times when cheerful
ness only aggravates. Ruth felt an
noyed that Montaigne should offer
her consolation. In his life one did
not need a knowledge of shorthand
and bookkeeping to succeed in life,
''Never mind, let's talk a little"
Duncan O'Neil suggested, when a long
his daughters mind was not on her
book. where's your mother?"
"In the kitchen making tomato but
ter from the last tomatoes in the gar
den. The grocer trusted us for Is
pounds of sugar"
The bitterness of 13 when it first
faces disillusion was in Ruth's voice.
Ruth" the man said gently after a
moment. You don't know how sorry
I am that you could not go to New
York today with Myra. OF course you
will--we will manage it soon"
But Ruth knew almost for the first
time. that it would never be managed
soon"-that her fathers optimistic re-
mark was only another of his beautiful
Illusions about life.
She said nothing for awhile. Her
face, however, showed the invalid
much more than spoken words could
have told.
Its only that wanted to do so
much for you and mother" she said,
presently. "Of course I will get po-
sition here IN the town soon. l will
begin looking about"
"Oh. no. I'd hate to have you-going
to an office every day-coming home
tired-somehow in the city it would
not be so bad At least, the work
would pay better and be less fatigu-
Again Ruth was not deceived. She
knew that her father dreaded to see
her join the ranks of working girls"
to see her, in her business suit, go
out each morning and come home each
night, a little more worn, a little
older, little harder. If she were in
the city. Duncan could let loose his
imagination and picture her in the sur
rOundlngS he wanted her-lf those sur
roundings were an office, it would be
some sort of ideal office where Ruth S
word was the law, and where her work
was negligible.
But | must earn money, father.
can't be a burden any longer"
"A burden! Dear child, never talk
that way again. A burden! Why
Ruth, dear, what makes you think
His words stopped and his hand went
to his heart. Ruth saw the blue
shadow on his face and her own heart
stopped for an instant.
Never mind, won't talk that way
again. Lie back. and stay quiet until
! come home, father, won't you?
have an errand. 1t won't take long.
Too frightened to think about her
own troubles now, Ruth slipped out
and went to her own room. From Il
tiny box in her bureau she took out
her hundred-dollar bill. She had not
put it in the family bank account be-
cause she knew it would be drawn
for some of the many bills.
With the money in her purse, she
ran down the street to DR.. Lane. 1t
was still his office hours.
Il want you to come and see father