"Bury her in Willesden churchyard, as she requested, on Sunday," said Jack. "Mercy on us! what have I said!" cried the attendant, greatly alarmed by the agitation of her mistress; "do sit down, your ladyship, while I run for the ratifia and rosa solis. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. "Who is it?" "He didn't give his name, Sir," replied the maid; "but he's a young gentleman. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt.
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