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As she was about to leave the room he moved forward suddenly, and said, "Miss Deyncourt!" Involuntarily she stopped short, in obedience to the stern authority of the tone. "You are unjust." She did not answer and left the room. "Uncle John," said Ruth next morning, taking Mr. Alwynn aside after breakfast, "we are leaving by the early train, are we not?" "No, my love, it is quite impossible.

"To Mr. Dare." "Not that man who has come to live at Vandon?" "Yes." Another long silence. "When was it?" "Ten days ago." "Ten days ago," repeated Charles, mechanically, and his face worked. "Ten days ago!" "It is not given out yet," said Ruth, hesitating, "because Mr. Alwynn does not wish it during Lord Polesworth's absence. I never thought of any mistake being caused by not mentioning it.

Alwynn, have done, she would like to know, if, when she was in trouble and she knew what trouble meant, if any one did she had allowed herself to get moped. Ruth must try and bear up. And at Lady Deyncourt's age it was quite to be expected. And Ruth must remember she still had a sister, and that there was a happy home above. And so Mrs.

To her uncle Ruth told what had happened; and as he slowly wended his way to Vandon on the day fixed for the tenant's dinner, Mr. Alwynn mused thereon, and I believe, if the truth were known, he was sorry that Dare had been refused.

Alwynn, in cutting out a child's shirt, cut out at the same time her best drawing-room table-cloth as well, which calamity had naturally driven out of her mind every other subject for the time? Ruth had proved unsympathetic, and Mrs. Alwynn had felt her to be so. The next day, also, when Mrs.

"My dear," said Mrs. Alwynn to her husband that morning, as they started for church across the glebe, "if any of the Atherstone party are in church, as they ought to be, for I hear from Mrs. Smith that they are not at all regular at Greenacre only went once last Sunday, and then late I shall just tell Ruth that she is to come back to me to-morrow.

"It is a disgraceful story," said Mr. Alwynn, in great indignation. "Disgraceful!" echoed Dare, excitedly. "It is more than disgraceful. It is abominable. You do not know all yet. I will tell you. I was young; I was but a boy. I go to America when I am twenty-one, to travel, to see the world. I make acquaintances. I get into a bad set, what you call undesirable. I fall in love. I walk into a net.

"Thank you, madam," was the reply, in the most courteous of tones, and the gray hat was off in a moment, showing a very dark, cropped head, "but I do not look for the church. I only ask for the way to the house of the pastor, Mr. Alwynn." Mrs.

And then, for English reading there's a very nice book Uncle John has somewhere on natural history, called 'Animals of a Quiet Life, by a Mr. Hare, too so comical, I always think. It's good for you to be reading something. It is what your poor dear granny would have wished if she had been alive. Only it must not be poetry, Ruth, not poetry." Mrs. Alwynn did not approve of poetry.

"Little nap after luncheon. Hardly asleep. You should have waked me." "There was Aunt Fanny," said Ruth, feeling as if she had committed some grave sin. "Ah-h!" said Mr. Alwynn, as if her reason were a weighty one, his memory possibly recalling the orchestral flourish which as a rule heralded his wife's return to consciousness. "True, true, my dear. I must be going," as the chime ceased.