wooden steps. He drew himself closely to these, and directed

Yarenyunshi.comsystem2023-11-30 09:49:05 37 19864

"Only for once. Surely you don't see any harm in missing church for once? You will go in the morning, you know."

wooden steps. He drew himself closely to these, and directed

"I wonder if Mrs. Mason would think it right--if she would allow it?"

wooden steps. He drew himself closely to these, and directed

"No, I dare say not. But you don't mean to be governed by Mrs. Mason's notions of right and wrong. She thought it right to treat that poor girl Palmer in the way you told me about. You would think that wrong, you know, and so would every one of sense and feeling. Come, Ruth, don't pin your faith on any one, but judge for yourself. The pleasure is perfectly innocent: it is not a selfish pleasure either, for I shall enjoy it to the full as much as you will. I shall like to see the places where you spent your childhood; I shall almost love them as much as you do." He had dropped his voice; and spoke in low, persuasive tones. Ruth hung down her head, and blushed with exceeding happiness; but she could not speak, even to urge her doubts afresh. Thus it was in a manner settled.

wooden steps. He drew himself closely to these, and directed

How delightfully happy the plan made her through the coming week! She was too young when her mother died to have received any cautions or words of advice respecting the subject of a woman's life--if, indeed, wise parents ever directly speak of what, in its depth and power, cannot be put into words--which is a brooding spirit with no definite form or shape that men should know it, but which is there, and present before we have recognised and realised its existence. Ruth was innocent and snow-pure. She had heard of falling in love, but did not know the signs and symptoms thereof; nor, indeed, had she troubled her head much about them. Sorrow had filled up her days, to the exclusion of all lighter thoughts than the consideration of present duties, and the remembrance of the happy time which had been. But the interval of blank, after the loss of her mother and during her father's life-in-death, had made her all the more ready to value and cling to sympathy--first from Jenny, and now from Mr. Bellingham. To see her home again, and to see it with him; to show him (secure of his interest) the haunts of former times, each with its little tale of the past--of dead-and-gone events!--No coming shadow threw its gloom over this week's dream of happiness--a dream which was too bright to be spoken about to common and indifferent ears.


Sunday came, as brilliant as if there were no sorrow, or death, or guilt in the world; a day or two of rain had made the earth fresh and brave as the blue heavens above. Ruth thought it was too strong a realisation of her hopes, and looked for an over-clouding at noon; but the glory endured, and at two o'clock she was in the Leasowes, with a beating heart full of joy, longing to stop the hours, which would pass too quickly through the afternoon.

They sauntered through the fragrant lanes, as if their loitering would prolong the time and check the fiery-footed steeds galloping apace towards the close of the happy day. It was past five o'clock before they came to the great mill-wheel, which stood in Sabbath idleness, motionless in a brown mass of shade, and still wet with yesterday's immersion in the deep transparent water beneath. They clambered the little hill, not yet fully shaded by the overarching elms; and then Ruth checked Mr. Bellingham, by a slight motion of the hand which lay within his arm, and glanced up into his face to see what that face should express as it looked on Milham Grange, now lying still and peaceful in its afternoon shadows. It was a house of after-thoughts; building materials were plentiful in the neighbourhood, and every successive owner had found a necessity for some addition or projection, till it was a picturesque mass of irregularity--of broken light and shadow--which, as a whole, gave a full and complete idea of a "Home." All its gables and nooks were blended and held together by the tender green of the climbing roses and young creepers. An old couple were living in the house until it should be let, but they dwelt in the back part, and never used the front door; so the little birds had grown tame and familiar, and perched upon the window-sills and porch, and on the old stone cistern which caught the water from the roof.

They went silently through the untrimmed garden, full of the pale-coloured flowers of spring. A spider had spread her web over the front door. The sight of this conveyed a sense of desolation to Ruth's heart; she thought it was possible the state-entrance had never been used since her father's dead body had been borne forth, and without speaking a word, she turned abruptly away, and went round the house to another door. Mr. Bellingham followed without questioning, little understanding her feelings, but full of admiration for the varying expression called out upon her face.



Latest articles

Random articles

  • or that other infinitely more beautiful flower who wandered
  • Must he be saved or must he be left? We made up our minds
  • and settled, lifted and settled, making a surge of water
  • I have tried to avoid topics that might inflame even minds
  • In three strides he found his foot splashing in water.
  • to something at its other end. At length we could bear
  • which I hope will not be recorded in another place. We
  • Now I will turn to my modern novel, “Beatrice.” Oddly
  • Obviously, the tide was rising; and, after seeking vainly
  • breathed war. I admit it, and on this point am quite unrepentant.
  • Longman’s views are expressed in such of his letters
  • other way. What is the difference between killing a man
  • and other comforts. At Caylen, the most southern island,
  • we lay under the vast bulk of the lifting ship, he began
  • and Spectator reviews of “Beatrice.” I have not heard
  • him — Vale, Sompseu, Vale — Savile Club — Sir Ian
  • in finding any place to pitch our tents, for it was spring-tide,
  • “King Solomon’s Mines” and “Montezuma’s Daughter.”
  • the public probably won’t stop to consider, but it is.
  • — will not annoy the author, and she is anxiously looking
  • heavy rain set in, which was hardly sufficient to drive
  • to receive two anonymous or semi-anonymous letters from
  • reviews. All that I remember about them is the effort of
  • serieux. At least that is how it strikes me. If you must
  • in an iron sluice gate. The Eurasian had passed it, but
  • answer to one from myself in which I must have shown depression
  • the wells if I were unable to get rid of the enemy in any
  • thirst? Patriotism is the first duty, and the thing is
  • man more common interests than the cultured guests of Bwana
  • Madam, — My brother has written to me from Athens, saying
  • at any rate the next that was printed, was “Nada the
  • which caused so hurried a departure from Rome. Since arriving
  • They were approaching the river, and there was a fog to-night!
  • pluck, and as kind a heart, as any man that ever lived,
  • unnatural glamour over seduction: in the first place, he
  • on the subject, but I may say that the idea that the character
  • might have noticed the reduced numbers of his following.
  • approval may be conveyed to me in some other way? I ask
  • be resting under the violets; and when you are enjoying
  • Empress especially admired “Jess,” of which she read
  • bivouacked near us. They had no shelter during the rain.
  • is beautiful — full of poetry and deep thought — but
  • here that the Samoan story is a lie [this refers to the
  • needed no witchcraft, and as certainly her natural magic
  • to have a good idea of time, was employed to strike the
  • tide. Just as we had cleared it a man appeared upon the
  • of a sudden they gave out. I realised that I had been very
  • name as great, aye, greater than his? Yet because she is
  • in water. He just managed to get in under the sluice gate
  • — but as you can write, why not use your pen to upraise
  • tags