bout
leeches--I can put them on, and see about them. Tell me everything,
sir, that you wish to have done!"

Her manner was calm and serious, and her countenance and deportment
showed that the occasion was calling out strength sufficient to meet
it. Mr Jones spoke with a deference which he had not thought of using
upstairs, even while he supposed her to be the sister of the invalid.
Ruth listened gravely; she repeated some of the injunctions, in order
that she might be sure that she fully comprehended them, and then,
bowing, left the room.

"She is no common person," said Mr Jones. "Still she is too young to
have the responsibility of such a serious case. Have you any idea
where his friends live, Mrs Morgan?"

"Indeed and I have. His mother, as haughty a lady as you would wish
to see, came travelling through Wales last year; she stopped here,
and, I warrant you, nothing was good enough for her; she was real
quality. She left some clothes and books behind her (for the maid was
almost as fine as the mistress, and little thought of seeing after
her lady's clothes, having a taste for going to see scenery along
with the man-servant), and we had several letters from her. I have
them locked in the drawers in the bar, where I keep such things."

"Well! I should recommend your writing to the lady, and telling her
her son's state."

"It would be a favour, Mr Jones, if you would just write it yourself.
English writing comes so strange to my pen."

The letter was written, and, in order to save time, Mr Jones took it
to the Llanglas post-office.

CHAPTER VII

The Crisis--Watching and Waiting

Ruth put away every thought of the past or future; everything that
could unfit her for the duties of the present. Exceeding love
supplied the place of experience. She never left the room after the
first day; she forced herself to eat, because his service needed her
strength. She did not indulge in any tears, because the weeping she
longed for would make her less able to attend upon him. She watched,
and waited, and prayed: prayed with an utter forgetfulness of self,
only with a consciousness that God was all-powerful, and that he,
whom she loved so much, needed the aid of the Mighty One.

Day and night, the summer night, seemed merged into one. She lost
count of time in the hushed and darkened room. One morning Mrs Morgan
beckoned her out; and she stole on tiptoe into the dazzling gallery,
on one side of which the bedrooms