This is a tale of two young fools. He sat up in his chair as though the question had stung him. So, very carefully, he raised her in his arms and carried her to her bed. Thus, all her interest in life began to centre upon the patient, who was apparently quite as anchorless as she was. They do not come for me, to find me and bring me home. " "So do I!" she cried; "for then you would have been really my brother. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain.
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