A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. The occasion is worth a dash of the grape, lad. “Of course,” she said diffidently, “this is a boarding-house, although we never take in promiscuous travellers. 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. ” She paused. Darrell attempted to reply. Gerald swore. She never grew angry for anything her husband did: such anger as came to her was directed against the lazy, incompetent servant who was always snooping about in the inner temple—Spurlock's study.
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