The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation. Her bald head had swollen on her shoulders, puffy with fresh blood that ringed her mouth. Ruth flashed in and out of the sunshine; and he took note of the radiant nimbus above her head each time the sunshine touched her hair. He would get very cross one evening and no one would dare to remind him of it. " "Perhaps so," rejoined the stranger; "but I have others in reserve, not so generally known. If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection. ’ At last.
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