ugh;
you've not been so bad to let them be cut off neither. You see,
Master Thurstan is no wiser than a babby in some things; and Miss
Faith just lets him have his own way; so it's all left to me to keep
him out of scrapes. I'll wish you a very good night. I've heard many
a one say as long hair was not wholesome. Good night."

But in a minute she popped her head into Ruth's room once more:

"You'll put on them caps to-morrow morning. I'll make you a present
on them."

Sally had carried away the beautiful curls, and she could not find
it in her heart to throw such lovely chestnut tresses away, so she
folded them up carefully in paper, and placed them in a safe corner
of her drawer.

CHAPTER XIV

Ruth's First Sunday at Eccleston

Ruth felt very shy when she came down (at half-past seven) the
next morning, in her widow's cap. Her smooth, pale face, with its
oval untouched by time, looked more young and childlike than ever,
when contrasted with the head-gear usually associated with ideas
of age. She blushed very deeply as Mr and Miss Benson showed the
astonishment, which they could not conceal, in their looks. She said
in a low voice to Miss Benson,

"Sally thought I had better wear it."

Miss Benson made no reply; but was startled at the intelligence,
which she thought was conveyed in this speech, of Sally's
acquaintance with Ruth's real situation. She noticed Sally's looks
particularly this morning. The manner in which the old servant
treated Ruth had in it far more of respect than there had been the
day before; but there was a kind of satisfied way of braving out Miss
Benson's glances which made the latter uncertain and uncomfortable.

She followed her brother into his study.

"Do you know, Thurstan, I am almost certain Sally suspects."

Mr Benson sighed. The deception grieved him, and yet he thought he
saw its necessity.

"What makes you think so?" asked he.

"Oh! many little things. It was her odd way of ducking her head
about, as if to catch a good view of Ruth's left hand, that made me
think of the wedding-ring; and once, yesterday, when I thought I had
made up quite a natural speech, and was saying how sad it was for
so young a creature to be left a widow, she broke in with 'widow be
farred!' in a very strange, contemptuous kind of manner."

"If she suspects, we had far better tell her the truth at once. She
will never rest till she finds it out, so we must make a virtue of
necessity."