’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface. The slow stars circled on to the moment of their meeting. —Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries. “I can only repeat what I said before,” she declared. “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her. A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it. He proposed, he wanted to possess her! He loved her. " Himself. Mrs.
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