She rehearsed the story of her forlorn long lost mother in her head, what she would say to the theorymongers. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. I have had my day; and there were women in it. Much to her annoyance, therefore, Winifred was left alone with the woollendraper, who following up a maxim of his own, "that nothing was gained by too much bashfulness," determined to profit by the opportunity. For you say that you swim. " "Law! Miss," observed the maid, "there's nothing mischievous in the person's appearance, I'm sure. F.
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