The rest of the family were already in the room, and the table was laid
for breakfast. Ruth greeted each one with a smile, but she did not
speak, and began to move quietly about the table, giving those dainty
little finishing touches which no true woman ever leaves to a servant.
She put some of the roses in a vase, and rearranged this and that,
moving lightly and softly about. Her footsteps were as soundless as the
fall of tender leaves, and her garments made no more rustle than the
unfolding of a flower. She threw one of the red roses at David, and
wafted the judge a kiss. Once or twice she turned to speak to William,
but forthwith smilingly gave up all thought of it for the time being.
There never was any use in anybody's trying to speak while Miss Penelope
was in the height of the excitement of making the morning coffee. An
opportunity for a word might possibly occur during the making of the
coffee for dinner or supper. Miss Penelope did not consider this
function quite so solemn a ceremony at dinner or supper time. Sometimes,
at rare intervals, she had been known to allow the coffee for dinner or
supper to be made by the cook in the kitchen.
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