He pulled her from him to kiss her on the mouth and paused, looking into her face. Sheppard, which she gratefully declined. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. 1. Depend upon it, there is a place for you—waiting. Without betraying the slightest confusion, or making a single remark, he quietly resumed his seat. On her lapel was an ivory button, bearing the words “Votes for Women. . “I don’t see what else I could have said,” he remarked. . She was reasonably certain why. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. He put his free arm around her and held the censer ready; and as Ruth snuggled her cheek against his sleeve, they were, so far as intent, in each other's arms.
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