She lay and nibbled at a sprig of dwarf rhododendron. Supper was over. \" 66 She commented as more doors slammed. The months that followed September spiraled downward. . The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. Just a formal marriage. “What do you mean, hanging round with my wife?” he answered fiercely. “Dinner is served, m’m,” said the efficient parlor-maid in the archway, and the worst was over. CHAPTER V At dinner the spinsters invited Ruth to sit at their table, an invitation she accepted gratefully. She laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. Sheppard, shuddering violently. " "Not at fisticuffs, perhaps," interrupted Jack, fiercely; "but I've my knife.
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