Ruth's eyes were wet, but she saw light everywhere: the room was filled with celestial aura. He sat in much the same attitude, and she stood just as she had stood when he told her she could not go to the Fadden Dance. They’re just all men, and no one is safe from scandal. Hitherto it had been qualified by her conception of all life as a compromise, by her new effort to be unexacting of life. He dragged it out, and perceiving, in spite of the decayed frame, that it was the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard, commanded his attendants to convey it up stairs—an order which was promptly obeyed. Her life hangs upon a thread, and this may snap it. "But, take my advice, and keep out of Sir Rowland's way, or you'll get the poor lady into trouble as well as me. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice.
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