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Miss Stanley had determined from the outset to have the warmest affection for her youngest niece and to be a second mother in her life—a second and a better one; but she had found much to battle with, and there was much in herself that Ann Veronica failed to understand. Ramage did not know. “I love this warm end of summer more than words can tell,” he said. “He was alive at four o’clock this afternoon,” she answered, “but the doctors give little hope of his recovery. I admired your chivalry. The only thing they don’t fight over is the addition. But seriously ——” “Well seriously?” “Isn’t it your own fault a little? Why do you not tell me your address, and allow me to call upon you. But his words were borne away by the driving wind. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. ” There was silence between them. It was still raining heavily, and profoundly dark. Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation methods and addresses.
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