a word, and without once looking at me; and
only by her attitude could I guess that she was weeping. Then when all
my tale was told, she asked in a low and gentle voice, but still without
showing her face to me,--

"And does she love you, Cousin Ridd? Does she say that she loves you
with--with all her heart?"

"Certainly, she does," I answered. "Do you think it impossible for one
like her to do so?"

She said no more; but crossed the room before I had time to look at her,
and came behind my chair, and kissed me gently on the forehead.

"I hope you may be very happy, with--I mean in your new life," she
whispered very softly; "as happy as you deserve to be, and as happy as
you can make others be. Now how I have been neglecting you! I am quite
ashamed of myself for thinking only of grandfather: and it makes me so
low-spirited. You have told me a very nice romance, and I have never
even helped you to a glass of wine. Here, pour it for yourself, dear
cousin; I shall be back again directly."

With that she was out of the door in a moment; and when she came back,
you would not have thought that a tear had dimmed those large bright
eyes, or wandered down those pale clear cheeks. Only her hands were cold
and trembling: and she made me help myself.

Uncle Reuben did not appear at all; and Ruth, who had promised to come
and see us, and stay for a fortnight at our house (if her grandfather
could spare her), now discovered, before I left, that she must not think
of doing so. Perhaps she was right in deciding thus; at any rate it had
now become improper for me to press her. And yet I now desired tenfold
that she should consent to come, thinking that Lorna herself would work
the speediest cure of her passing whim.

For such, I tried to persuade myself, was the nature of Ruth's regard
for me: and upon looking back I could not charge myself with any
misconduct towards the little maiden. I had never sought her company, I
had never trifled with her (at least until that very day), and being so
engrossed with my own love, I had scarcely ever thought of her. And the
maiden would never have thought of me, except as a clumsy yokel, but for
my mother's and sister's meddling, and their wily suggestions. I believe
they had told the little soul that I was deeply in love with her;
although they both stoutly denied it. But who can place trust in a
woman's word, when it comes to a question of match-making?

[Illustration: 454.jpg Tailpiece]