There was still the pity of understanding in Ruth's eyes. I do not love any one. She was her mother’s child, fair of face, doted upon and spoiled by her attentions. We've got to get him to care. No, I don't, either; because——" "Well, Winny?" "I don't know what I was going to say," she added, in some confusion; "only I'm sorry you were born a gentleman. She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth. E. Martin came to the door, looking radiant and relieved. "If things had gone smoothly," he thought, "I should have cursed the fellow's stupidity.
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