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put her to bed, and were standing round her in
dismay, when Mrs Mason's return home (only a few minutes before Ruth
arrived) fluttered them back into the workroom.
    And now, all was confusion and hurry; a doctor to be sent for; a mind
to be unburdened of directions for a dress to a forewoman, who was
too ill to understand; scoldings to be scattered with no illiberal
hand amongst a group of frightened girls, hardly sparing the poor
invalid herself for her inopportune illness. In the middle of all
this turmoil, Ruth crept quietly to her place, with a heavy saddened
heart at the indisposition of the gentle forewoman. She would gladly
have nursed Jenny herself, and often longed to do it, but she could
not be spared. Hands, unskilful in fine and delicate work, would be
well enough qualified to tend the sick, until the mother arrived from
home. Meanwhile, extra diligence was required in the workroom; and
Ruth found no opportunity of going to see little Tom, or to fulfil
the plans for making him and his grandmother more comfortable, which
she had proposed to herself. She regretted her rash promise to Mr
Bellingham, of attending to the little boy's welfare; all that she
could do was done by means of Mrs Mason's servant, through whom she
made inquiries, and sent the necessary help.
    The subject of Jenny's illness was the prominent one in the house.
Ruth told of her own adventure, to be sure; but when she was at the
very crisis of the boy's fall into the river, the more fresh and
vivid interest of some tidings of Jenny was brought into the room,
and Ruth ceased, almost blaming herself for caring for anything
besides the question of life or death to be decided in that very
house.
    Then a pale, gentle-looking woman was seen moving softly about; and
it was whispered that this was the mother come to nurse her child.
Everybody liked her, she was so sweet-looking, and gave so little
trouble, and seemed so patient, and so thankful for any inquiries
about her daughter, whose illness, it was understood, although its
severity was mitigated, was likely to be long and tedious. While all
the feelings and thoughts relating to Jenny were predominant, Sunday
arrived. Mrs Mason went the accustomed visit to her father's, making
some little show of apology to Mrs Wood for leaving her and her
daughter; the apprentices dispersed to the various friends with whom
they were in the habit of spending the day; and Ruth went to St
Nicholas', with a sorrowful heart, depressed on account of Jenny, and
self-reproachful at having rashly undertaken what she had been unable
to perform.
    As she came out of church, she was joined by Mr Bellingham. She had
half hoped that he might have forgotten the arrangement, and yet she
wished to relieve herself of her responsibility. She knew his step
behind her, and the contending feelings made her heart beat hard, and
she longed to run away.
    "Miss Hilton, I believe," said he, overtaking her, and bowing
forward, so as to catch a sight of her rose-red face. "How is our
little sailor going on? Well, I trust, from the symptoms the other
day."
    "I believe, sir, he is quite well now. I am very sorry, but I have
not been able to go and see him. I am so sorry—I could not help it.
But I have got one or two things through another person. I have put
them down on this slip of paper; and here is your purse, sir, for
I am afraid I can do nothing more for him. We have illness in the
house, and it makes us very busy."
    Ruth had been so much accustomed to blame of late, that she almost
anticipated some remonstrance or reproach now, for not having
fulfilled her promise better. She little guessed that Mr Bellingham
was far more busy trying to devise some excuse for meeting her again,
during the silence that succeeded her speech, than displeased with
her for not bringing a more particular account of the little boy, in
whom he had ceased to feel any interest.
    She repeated, after a minute's pause:
    "I am very sorry I have done so little, sir."
    "Oh,