"Because every one knows that she never goes out with any gentleman but Uncle or Louis, and we all were surprised. The Hoffmans sat behind us, and Miss Hoffman leaned forward to ask what it meant. I met several acquaintances this morning who had been there, and each one made some remark about Ruth. One said, "I had no idea the Levices were so intimate with Dr. Kemp;" another young girl laughed and said, "Ruth Levice had a swell escort last night, didn"t she?" Still another asked, "Anything on the tapis in your family, Mrs. Lewis?" And what could I say?"
"What did you say?"
Mrs. Levice"s quiet tone did not betray her vexation. She had feared just such a little disturbance from the Jewish community, but her husband"s views had overruled hers, and she was now bound to uphold his.
Nevertheless, she hated anything of the kind.
"I simply said I knew nothing at all about it, except that he was your physician. Even if I had known, I wouldn"t have said more."
"There is no more to be said. Dr. Kemp and Ruth have become friendly through their mutual interest in several poor patients; and in the course of conversation one morning he heard that Ruth was anxious to see this play, and had no escort. So he asked her, and her father saw no objection to her going. It is a pity she didn"t think to hand round a written explanation to her different Jewish friends in the theatre."
"There you go, Aunt Esther! Jewish friends! I am sure that no matter how indifferent Uncle is to such things, you must remember that our Jewish girls never go alone to the theatre with any one outside of the family, and certainly not with a Christian."
"What has that to do with it, so long as he is a gentleman?"
"Nothing. Only I didn"t think you cared to have Ruth"s name coupled with one."
"No, nor with any one. But as I cannot control people"s tongues--"
"Then I would not give them cause for wagging. Aunt Esther, is there anything between Ruth and Dr. Kemp?"
"Jennie, you surprise and anger me. Do you know what you insinuate?"
"I can"t help it. Either you are crazy, or ignorant of what is going on, and I consider it my duty to enlighten you,"--a gossip"s duties are all away from home,--"unless, of course, you prefer to remain in blissful or wilful ignorance."
"Speak out, please."
"Of course I knew you must have sanctioned her going last night, though, I must confess, I still think you did very wrongly; but do you know where she went this morning?"
Mrs. Levice was put out. She was enough of a Jewess to realize that if you dislike Jewish comment, you must never step out of the narrowly conventional Jewish pathway. That Ruth, her only daughter, should be the subject of vulgar bandying was more bitter than wormwood to her; but that her own niece could come with these wild conjectures incensed her beyond endurance.
"I do know," she said in response to the foregoing question. "Ruth is not a sneak,--she tells me everything; but her enterprises are so mild that there would be no harm if she left them untold. She called on a poor young girl who, after a long illness, desires pupils in Spanish."
"A friend of Dr. Kemp."
"Exactly."
"A young girl, unmarried, who, a few weeks ago, through a merciful fate, lost her child at its birth."
The faint flush on Mrs. Levice"s cheek receded.
"Who told you this?" she questioned in an even, low voice.
"I thought you could not know. Mrs. Blake, the landlady where the girl lives, told me."
"And how, pray, do you connect Ruth with this girl?"
"I will tell you. Mrs. Blake does my white sewing. I was there this morning; and just as I went into her room, I saw Ruth leaving another farther down the hall. Naturally I asked Mrs. Blake who had the room, and she told me the story."
"Naturally." The cutting sarcasm drove the blood to Mrs. Lewis"s face.
"For me it was; and in this case," she retorted with rising accents, "my vulgar curiosity had its vulgar reward. I heard a scandalous account of the girl whom my cousin was visiting, and, outside of Dr. Kemp, Ruth is the only visitor she has had."
"I am sorry to hear this, Jennie."
"I know you are, Aunt Esther. But what I find so very queer is that Dr.
Kemp, who pretends to be her friend,--and I have seen them together many times,--should have sent her there. Don"t you?"
"I do not understand it at all,--neither Ruth nor him."
"Surely you don"t think Ruth knew anything of this?" questioned Mrs.
Lewis, leaning forward and raising her voice in horror.
"Of course not," returned Mrs. Levice, rather lamely. She had long ago acknowledged to herself that there were depths in her daughter"s nature that she had never gauged.
"I know what an idol his patients make of him, but he is a man nevertheless; and though you may think it horrible of me, it struck me as very suggestive that he was that girl"s only friend."
"Therefore he must have been a good friend."
Mrs. Lewis bounded from her chair and turned a startled face to Mr.
Levice, who had thus spoken, standing in the doorway. Mrs. Levice breathed a sigh of hysterical relief.
"Good-afternoon, Jennie," he said, coming into the room and shaking her hand; "sit down again. Good-afternoon Esther;" he stooped to kiss his wife.
Mrs. Lewis"s hands trembled; she looked, to say the least, ashamed. She had been caught scandal-mongering by her uncle, Jules Levice, the head and pride of the whole family.
"I am sorry I heard what I did, Jennie; sorry to think that you are so poor as to lay the vilest construction on an affair of which you evidently know nothing, and sorry you could not keep your views to yourself." It was the habit of all of Levice"s relatives to listen in silence to any personal reprimand the dignified old man might offer.
"I heard a good part of your conversation, and I can only characterize it as--petty. Can"t you and your friends see anything without springing at shilling-shocker conclusions? Don"t you know that people sometimes enjoy themselves without any further design? So much for the theatre talk. What is more serious is the fact that you could so misjudge my honorable friend, Dr. Kemp. Such a thing, Jennie, my girl, would be as remote from Dr. Kemp"s possibilities as the antipodes. Remember, what I say is indisputable. Whether Ruth knew the story of this girl or not, I cannot say, but either way I feel a.s.sured that what she did was well done--if innocently; if with knowledge, so much the better. And I venture to a.s.sert that she is not a whit harmed by the action. In all probability she will tell us all the particulars if we ask her.
Otherwise, Jennie, don"t you think you have been unnecessarily alarmed?"
The benign gentleness of his question calmed Mrs. Lewis.
"Uncle," she replied earnestly, "in my life such things are not trivial; perhaps because my life is narrower. I know you and Ruth take a different view of everything."
"Don"t disparage yourself; people generally do that to be contradicted or to show that they know their weaknesses and have never cared to change them. A woman of your intelligence need never sink to the level of a spiteful chatterbox; every one should keep his tongue sheathed, for it is more deadly than a sword. Your higher interests should make you overlook every little action of your neighbors. You only see or hear what takes place when the window is open; you can never judge from this what takes place when the window is shut. How are the children?"
By dint of great tenderness he strove to make her more at ease.
Ruth, confronted with their knowledge, confessed, with flushed cheeks and glowing eyes, her contretemps.
"And," she said in conclusion, "Father, Mamma, nothing you can say will make me retract anything I have done or purpose doing."
"Nothing?" repeated her father.
"I hope you won"t ask me to, but that is my decision."
"My darling, I dislike to hear you call yourself a mule," said her father, looking at her with something softer than disapproval; "but in this case I shall not use the whip to turn you from your purpose. Eh, Esther?"
"It is Quixotic," affirmed Mrs. Levice; "but since you have gone so far, there is no reasonable way of getting out of it. When next I see the doctor, I shall speak to him of it."