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The doctor smoked his pipe thoughtfully. The lad looked alarmed. Afterward she wanted to get her letter to her father back in order to read it over again, and, if it tallied with her general impression of it, re-write it. Save us!" he cried, as his glance accidentally alighted on the drawing, which Winifred had dropped in her agitation. There was something about their greeting and the tone of Annabel’s exclamation which puzzled 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. What was his astonishment to recognise in the few words they uttered the voices of Kneebone and Winifred! The latter was apparently in great distress, and the former seemed to be using his best efforts to relieve her anxiety. “It is Rhea’s infant. You sing better than Annabel ever did, you have even a better style. Suddenly he came to a stop, his mouth agape. She tried not to blush.
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