“May I hear?” “It really isn’t much to tell,” Drummond answered. 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. He succeeded so well that by the time he asked for her name once more, she fluttered her lashes as coquettishly as ever. She has married some one he could not approve of, and gone right away. She tried to imagine the collective effect of the Fadden Ball; she had never seen a fancy-dress gathering in her life. But Jack did not heed them.
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