d. And there is
your own future to consider. Love will come to you some day, and you
must be free to welcome him. Don't distress yourself about me, Ruth; I
have my work for consolation. Before I get home to-night I shall have
seen so much suffering that I shall be ashamed to nurse my own trouble."

"Yes," said Ruth faintly.

His words seemed to place her at an immense distance, as if already he
had accepted his burden and put it resolutely out of sight. She felt
chilled and humiliated, for in the depths of her heart she knew that if
Dr Maclure had been persistent in his request, and had condescended to
"tempt" her, to use her own expressive phrase, she would very probably
have succumbed to the temptation, however much she might have regretted
her decision later on. But Donald would have none of her; he wanted a
wife who cared for himself, and not for his possessions. Ruth felt
almost as if it were she herself who had been refused. It was not an
agreeable sensation to experience after a first proposal.

CHAPTER FOUR.

A MEETING.

One bright spring afternoon about a week after Ruth's visit to Miss
Maclure, Mollie went out to execute some shopping commissions, and on
her way home took a short cut through the park, which was the great
summer resort of the northern town in which her lot was cast.

She was an ardent lover of Nature, and it was a joy to see the tiny
green buds bursting into life on trees and hedges, and to realise that
the long winter was at an end.

"Nasty, shivery, chilblainey thing,--I hate it!" said Mollie to herself,
with a shiver of disgust. "It might be very nice if one had lots of
furs, and skating, and parties, and fires in one's bedroom. People who
can enjoy themselves like that may talk of the `joys of winter,' but,
from my point of view, they don't exist. Give me summer, and flowers at
a penny a bunch! This dear old park and I have had many good times
together. I think I have sampled most of the seats in my time!"

It was, indeed, a favourite summer custom of the Farrell girls to repair
to a shady bench under a tree with such portable sewing as happened to
be on hand, for when the sun shone in its strength the temperature of
Attica was more like that of an oven than a room. The winding paths
were, therefore, familiar to Mollie; but they were apt to be puzzling to
strangers who, like herself, wished to take a short cut from one side of
the park to another.

To-day as she