If they entered a shop, he paused by the doorway, as if waiting for the journey to be resumed. "I understand," replied the stranger, unable to repress a smile. She paused. " "But I'm used to that, Hoddy," she said, eagerly. It’s a thing I’ve unaccountably overlooked. . . It was red and chapped. I keep it for my own drinking," he added in a lower tone. A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it. And still you interest yourself in my affairs. CHAPTER VI.
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