" Ruth repeated the word, not in the effect of a query, but ruminantly. This accident rather confirms than checks my purpose. The night was clear and moonlit, dazzling with even light blue shadows that shone into manicured lawns and pristine gardens. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. She was alone, and the mask of her unchanging high spirits was for the moment laid aside. She turned to Lucilla, a plea in her face. I have neither father, mother, brother, sister, nor husband—I have only him. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. " "You are the kindest man I have ever known," said Ruth, unashamed of her tears.
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