It took all my self control not to let my hands wander. “A nice time of anxiety you’ve given me, young lady,” he said, as he entered the room. 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. Then for a time she forgot the Fadden affair altogether. Their journey had made them indolent, the afternoon was warm, and it seemed impossible to breathe a sweeter air. She answered him almost coldly.
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