The Corner House Girls Under Canvas

“Oh, Ruth!” Agnes exclaimed, under her breath, “they look like Gypsies.”

“If they are, they are much better dressed than any Gypsies we ever saw before,” observed her sister.

“But how gay!”

This comment was just enough. The older one had shocking taste in millinery. She wore, too, long, pendant ear-rings and her fingers were covered with gaudy looking jewels. Her garments were rich in texture, but oddly made, and the contrasts in color were, as Agnes whispered, “fierce!”

“That girl with her is handsome, just the same,” Ruth declared.

“Oh! isn’t she!” whispered the enthusiastic Agnes. “A perfectly stunning brunette.”

If she were a Gypsy girl she was a very beautiful one. Her features were lovely and her complexion brilliant. When she smiled she flashed two rows of perfect teeth upon the beholder. She might have been a year or two older than Ruth.

“I don’t know – somehow – she reminds me of somebody,” murmured the latter.

“Who?”

“The girl.”

“She reminds me of that chicken-thief Tom Jonah treed on the henhouse roof,” chuckled Agnes.

“Oh!” exclaimed Ruth; “all Gypsies can’t be alike.”

“Humph! you never heard a good word said for them,” sniffed Agnes.

“But that doesn’t prove there are not good ones. They are a wandering people and have no particular trade or standing in any community. Naturally they have a lot of crimes laid upon their shoulders that they never commit,” said the just Ruth.

“That was one of them that tried to steal your hens, just the same,” said Agnes.

“I suppose so,” admitted her sister. “But surely these two cannot belong to the same kind of Gypsies. See how richly they are dressed.”

“I guess that doesn’t make any difference,” said Agnes. “They are all cut off the same piece of goods,” and immediately she lost interest in the strange couple when Lucy Poole came up the aisle to speak to her.

Ruth had the gaily dressed woman and her companion on her mind a good deal. She often looked at them when they did not notice her. The woman must have been forty, but was straight, lithe, and of good figure. She sat on the outer end of the seat, having the girl between her and the window.

The latter seemed more and more familiar in appearance to Ruth as she looked, yet the Corner House girl could not say whom the girl looked like.

The latter scarcely spoke to her companion. Indeed, she kept her face toward the window for the most part, and seemed to be in a sullen mood. She had smiled once at Dot and the Alice-doll, and that was the only time Ruth had seen the dark, beautiful face with an attractive expression upon it.

The woman seemed talkative enough, but what language she jabbered to her companion the Corner House girl could not tell. She frequently leaned toward the dark girl, her bejeweled fingers seizing the sleeve of her waist, and her speech was both emphatic and loud.

The rattle of the train drowned, however, most of the woman’s words. Ruth arose and went the length of the car for a drink, just for the purpose of overhearing the strange speech of the Gypsy (if such the woman was) for she was sure the language was not English.

She heard nothing intelligible. Ruth folded a cup, filled it at the ice-water tank, and brought it back for the children. Pearl Harrod was sitting directly behind the two strangers, in a seat with Carrie Poole.

“Oh, I say, Ruth!” Pearl said, “is it a fact that Rosa Wildwood is coming down to the Cove next week?”

Ruth turned to answer. As she did so the girl in the seat with the Gypsy sprang to her feet, her face transfigured with amazement, or alarm – Ruth did not know which. The woman grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her back into the seat, saying something of a threatening nature to her companion.

In her excitement the woman knocked the cup of water from Ruth’s hand. She turned to apologize, and Ruth, looking over her head, saw the dark-skinned girl sitting back in her corner quite colorless and broken. The Corner House girl was sure, too, that the strange girl’s lips formed the name “Rosa Wildwood” – but she made no sound.

“It is all right,” Ruth assured the Gypsy woman. “No harm done.”

“I am the ver’ awkward one – eh?” repeated the woman, with a hard smile.

“It does not matter,” said Ruth. “I can get another cup of water.”

She returned to do so. All the while she was wondering what the incident meant. It was not merely a chance happening, she was sure. Something about the name of her schoolmate, Rosa Wildwood, had frightened the beautiful girl who was evidently in the Gypsy woman’s care.

Ruth grew quite excited as she drew another cup of water, and she swiftly planned to discover the mystery, as she started up the aisle of the coach a second time.

CHAPTER VII – SOMETHING AHEAD

Pearl Harrod was now busily talking with Carrie Poole again; she had probably forgotten about Rosa Wildwood for the time being. But Ruth stopped at her seat – the seat directly behind that occupied by the two strangers.

“You asked about Rosa, Pearl?” said Ruth, speaking loudly enough, she was sure, for the girl in front to hear.

“Oh, hello! don’t spill that water again, Ruthie,” laughed Pearl. “Yes. I asked if she were coming down to the Cove!”

“Yes. Rosa Wildwood expects to come next week. I am going to find her a boarding place.”

Ruth spoke very distinctly, and she kept her eyes fastened upon the back of the strange girl’s head. But the latter gave no sign of having heard – at least, she appeared not to be interested in the name which had before so startled her.

“I don’t see how the poor girl can afford it,” Carrie Poole said, not unkindly. “They say she and her father are very poor.”

“Mr. Bob Wildwood works regularly. He doesn’t drink any more,” Ruth explained, intentionally speaking so that those in the forward seat could hear if they wished to listen.

“Rosa is an awfully sweet girl,” said Carrie.

“I love that little Southern drawl of hers!” cried Pearl. “She says ‘Ah reckon so’ in just the cunningest way!”

“She is very frail,” Ruth continued, clearly. “I was afraid she would break down before the school term closed. Now it has been arranged for her to stay at Pleasant Cove until she gains strength. Dr. Forsythe says it will do her a world of good.”

“We’ll give her a good time, all right,” declared Pearl. “Wish we could have her with us – ”

“Not at the bungalow,” said Ruth. “Nor at the hotel. We want a quiet place for her. I shall find it.”

Not a sign did the girl in front give that she heard any of this conversation. Yet Ruth believed there was a curious intentness in her manner – she held her head very still as though she were secretly listening, while apparently giving all her attention to what the train passed.

“What does your uncle call his bungalow – where we shall stop?” asked Ruth of Pearl.

“Why, the Spoondrift – don’t you remember? It’s at this end of the cove, near the river, and we have bathing rights on the shore. It’s a fine place. You’ll love it, Ruth Kenway.”

“I expect to,” said Ruth, seriously. “And you were very kind to ask me to stay two whole weeks with you,” and Ruth passed on.

She had intentionally said enough so that, if the strange girl were listening, she would learn just where Ruth could be found at Pleasant Cove.

For the Corner House girl felt that the dark beauty with the Gypsy woman held some keen interest in Rosa Wildwood. Of course – right at the start – the story of Rosa’s lost sister, June, had come into Ruth’s mind.