et as she folded it up.
It was good news to hear of the trouble Uncle Bernard had taken on her
behalf. Surely, surely he would not forward the photographs without
enclosing some sort of an answer to her many notes!

For the next few days Ruth's heart leapt every time the postman's knock
sounded at the door; but, when the longed-for packet arrived, the words,
"Photographs only," written on the back, killed her hopes at a glance.
The pictures themselves were fairly successful, and gave a happy half-
hour to the invalid, who bent lovingly over each familiar scene.

"It takes me back to my youth to see the dear old rooms again! How
successful you are with interiors, Ruth; but you have no photograph of
the library, one of my favourite haunts. How did you come to leave that
out?"

"I didn't. I took it twice over. I'm sorry, dear, but I expect they
were failures," said Ruth wearily.

She could not guess that on these missing pictures hung the fate of many
lives.

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

LOVE'S CONQUEST.

Six months had passed by, taking with them the keen edge of anxiety, but
leaving behind the dull, monotonous routine which is almost as hard to
bear. It is not enlivening, to be obliged to work instead of play, to
look ten times at a sixpence before you dare spend it, to consider what
you can do without, rather than what you can have, and to see no
prospect ahead but continual cheese-paring and self-denial; and when you
happen to be young and full of life, it is harder than ever.

With Dr Maclure's help, Mr Connor was able to continue his business,
and his City friends rallied round him, doing their best to put work in
his way; but, even so, there were pressing debts to be settled besides
the loan which one and all were anxious to repay, so that housekeeping
expenses had to be reduced to a minimum. It was decided that one of the
elder girls must stay at home, while the other tried for work abroad,
and it was at once a relief and a blow for Ruth when Mollie was chosen
as mother's help. She had dreaded the irksome duties of mending,
cooking, dusting, and everlasting putting to rights, which would have
fallen to her share, but it would have been a comfort to have been
chosen!

"Don't feel hurt, darling; it's a pure question of suitability," Mrs
Connor had explained anxiously. "Mollie is stronger than you are, and
has a more adaptable temperament. She won't feel the little jars as you
would, and will get on