He went up and down once, and then with great effort for a second time.  Just as he was about ready to start again, the door-bell rang.  He went carefully toward the door of his own room, always afraid of toppling over, and paused when he got there to listen.  The bell rang again, this time more insistently, and he wondered impatiently where Katie and Ellen were, and why some one didn’t go to the door.  A third peal of the bell sent him back to the hall window.  From there he could see the depot carriage with a trunk on the back, and the driver looking expectantly at the house.  He could hear voices on the steps below, but could see no one until, after a fourth ring, a gentleman and a young girl went slowly down the steps and stood looking back at the house.

“It’s that girl, and she’s come a day too soon,” gasped Arthur.  He threw up the hall window and spoke to them.

“If you will wait a moment longer,” he said, “I will try to find some one to open the door for you.”

The gentleman bowed and thanked him, the girl smiled, and Arthur left the window, inwardly vowing vengeance on faithless maids who didn’t attend to their duties.  He groaned as he suddenly remembered that it was Katie’s afternoon out.  He might as well go downstairs himself as take the long journey through the house to find Ellen.

“If I try to go down on these old sticks, they’ll have to break open the door and pick me up,” he said to himself with a rueful smile.”  I’ll try it baby fashion.”  Sitting down, he let his crutches slide along beside him, and holding the injured leg straight out before him hitched along from stair to stair until he reached the bottom.  Then with even greater caution than he had used before he walked to the door and opened it.

A bright-faced girl stood on the step and without waiting for Arthur to speak said pleasantly, “I am Ruth Shirley, and I am afraid you are not expecting me until to-morrow.”

“I am sure mother didn’t expect you to-day, for she has gone in town and won’t be back before five o’clock,” said Arthur, unpleasantly conscious of his crutches, his dressing-gown and his distracted-looking hair.

Ruth turned to the gentleman who was with her and held out her hand.  “Thank you very much, Mr. Ingersoll, for taking care of me so nicely.  I shall write father all about your kindness.”

“It was a very great pleasure, Miss Ruth,” answered Mr. Ingersoll, “and I shall hope some day to be able to tell your father what a delightful traveling companion I found you.  I am only sorry that I must say good-bye so soon.”  The driver having carried in her trunk, Ruth shook hands warmly with Mr. Ingersoll and watched him with a little homesick pang as he stepped into the carriage and was driven away.  Then she walked into the house with the curious idea that she was either just waking from a dream or was just going to begin one.

“I feel like those funny little girls in the wonderland stories who open mysterious doors and have ail sorts of adventures,” she said with a nervous little laugh.