“Would you take a passenger?” he asked as he came up; “unless, of course, you’re going to stop for some one else?”

“Do get in,” she urged shyly.  “No, I’m all alone—­going on an errand.”

“I guessed it—­not the errand, but the being alone.  You looked so small, wrapped up in all these furs, I felt you needed company,” explained Richard, smiling down into the animated young face, with its delicate colour showing fresh and fair in the frosty air.  There was something very attractive to the young man in this girl, who seemed to him the embodiment of sweetness and purity.  He never saw her without feeling that he would have liked just such a little sister.  He would have done much to please her, quite as he had followed her suggestion about the church-going on Christmas Day.

“I’m rushing down to find a scarf of a certain colour for Rob,” explained Ruth, too full of her commission to keep it to herself.  “You see, she’s playing Katherine to-night.  The girl who was to have played it—­Ethel Revell—­is ill.  Do you know any of Miss Copeland’s girls?  Olivia Cartwright plays Petruchio.”

“Olivia Cartwright?  Is she to be in some play?  She’s a distant cousin of mine.”

“It’s a school play—­Miss Copeland’s school, where Rob teaches, you know.  The play is to be in the Stuart Hendersons’ ballroom.”  And Ruth made known the situation to a listener who gave her his undivided attention.

“Well, well,—­seems to me I should have had an invitation for that play,” mused Richard, searching his memory.  “I wish I’d had one.  I should like to see your sister act Katherine.  I suppose it’s quite impossible to get one at this late hour?”

“I’m afraid so.  It’s really not at all strange that any one is left out of the list of invitations,” Ruth hastened to make clear.  “You see, each girl is allowed only six, and that usually takes just her family or nearest friends.  And if you are only a distant cousin of Olivia’s—­”

“It’s not at all strange that she shouldn’t ask me, for I’m afraid I’ve neglected to avail myself of former invitations of hers,” admitted Richard, ruefully.  “Too bad.  Punishment for such neglect usually follows—­and I certainly have it now.  I know the Stuart Hendersons, though—­I wonder—­Never mind, Miss Ruth, don’t look so sorry.  You’ll tell me about it afterward, some time, won’t you?”

“Indeed I will.  Oh, it’s been such an exciting day.  Rob’s been rehearsing her lines all day—­when she wasn’t trying on.  She says she could have played Petruchio much better, because she’s had to coach Olivia Cartwright for that part so much more than she’s had to coach Ethel for Katherine.  But, then, she knows the whole play—­she could take any part.  She would have loved to play Petruchio, though, on account of the boots and the slashing round the stage the way he does.  But I think it’s just as well, for Katherine certainly slashes, too—­and Rob’s not quite tall enough for Petruchio.”