But they made the mistake of waiting to hear what he had to say first.  Within fifteen minutes his tongue had done its work and they were all rich men.—­He gave every one of them a lot in the suburbs of the city of Stone’s Landing, within a mile and a half of the future post office and railway station, and they promised to resume work as soon as Harry got east and started the money along.  Now things were blooming and pleasant again, but the men had no money, and nothing to live on.  The Colonel divided with them the money he still had in bank—­an act which had nothing surprising about it because he was generally ready to divide whatever he had with anybody that wanted it, and it was owing to this very trait that his family spent their days in poverty and at times were pinched with famine.

When the men’s minds had cooled and Sellers was gone, they hated themselves for letting him beguile them with fine speeches, but it was too late, now—­they agreed to hang him another time—­such time as Providence should appoint.

CHAPTER XXVI.

Rumors of Ruth’s frivolity and worldliness at Fallkill traveled to Philadelphia in due time, and occasioned no little undertalk among the Bolton relatives.

Hannah Shoecraft told another, cousin that, for her part, she never believed that Ruth had so much more “mind” than other people; and Cousin Hulda added that she always thought Ruth was fond of admiration, and that was the reason she was unwilling to wear plain clothes and attend Meeting.  The story that Ruth was “engaged” to a young gentleman of fortune in Fallkill came with the other news, and helped to give point to the little satirical remarks that went round about Ruth’s desire to be a doctor!

Margaret Bolton was too wise to be either surprised or alarmed by these rumors.  They might be true; she knew a woman’s nature too well to think them improbable, but she also knew how steadfast Ruth was in her purposes, and that, as a brook breaks into ripples and eddies and dances and sports by the way, and yet keeps on to the sea, it was in Ruth’s nature to give back cheerful answer to the solicitations of friendliness and pleasure, to appear idly delaying even, and sporting in the sunshine, while the current of her resolution flowed steadily on.

That Ruth had this delight in the mere surface play of life that she could, for instance, be interested in that somewhat serious by-play called “flirtation,” or take any delight in the exercise of those little arts of pleasing and winning which are none the less genuine and charming because they are not intellectual, Ruth, herself, had never suspected until she went to Fallkill.  She had believed it her duty to subdue her gaiety of temperament, and let nothing divert her from what are called serious pursuits:  In her limited experience she brought everything to the judgment of her own conscience, and settled the affairs of all the world in her own serene judgment hall.  Perhaps her mother saw this, and saw also that there was nothing in the Friends’ society to prevent her from growing more and more opinionated.