‘I told you I could handle her. Her voice was weak and flat. "Good-bye!" For a moment Ruth was tempted to fling herself against the withered bosom; but long since she had learned repression. He laughed at her heartily, and she laughed too as she had not for a year. "You shall hear," returned Jonathan. Some man! And to conclude it all was the figure of her father in the doorway, giving her a last chance, his hat in one hand, his umbrella in the other, shaken at her to emphasize his point. His complexion was as blue as a sailor's jacket, and though Mr.
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