'"_
"Oh, but you do have such a lovely voice!" cried Ruth. "You can't make
even the _Shrew_ sound shrewish--in her tone, I mean."
"Can't I, indeed? Wait till to-night! If your friend Mr. Kendrick is to
be there I'll be more shrewish than you ever dreamed--it will be a real
stimulus!"
Ruth shook her head in dumb wonder that any one could be so impervious
to the charms of the young man who so appealed to her youthful
imagination. Three hours afterward, when she turned in her chair, in the
Stuart Henderson ballroom, at the summons of a low voice in her ear, to
find Richard Kendrick in the row behind her, she wondered afresh what
there could possibly be about him to rouse her sister's antagonism. His
face was such an interesting one, his eyes so clear and their glance so
straightforward, his fresh colour so pleasant to note, his whole
personality so attractive, Ruth could only answer him in the happiest
way at her command with a subdued but eager: "Oh, I'm so glad you came!"
"That's due to Mrs. Cartwright's wonderful kindness. She's the mother of
_Petruchio_, you know," explained Richard, with a smiling glance at the
gorgeously gowned woman beside him, who leaned forward also to say to
Ruth:
"What is one to do with a sweetly apologetic young cousin who begs to be
allowed to come, at the last moment, to view his cousin in doublet and
hose? But I really didn't venture to tell Olivia.
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