without a word of
explanation. And if you have no objection, I will mention to him the
matters of which you have just been speaking. No one has a deeper
interest in the public welfare, and certainly no one could be more
eminently discreet. However, I shall, of course, speak in the strictest
confidence."

The judge bent his head, but it was in nodding not in assent, for he had
not heard a word that his nephew said. And William saw nothing but the
nod with a sidewise glance of aversion at the signs of his uncle's
weakness.

It was the boy who heard and saw everything, and remembered and weighed
it, with a feeling of alarm that he knew no reason for, and could not
explain to himself. It was his instinct to dislike anything that William
Pressley said or did, and to distrust everything in which Philip Alston
was concerned. He looked round at Ruth to see if she shared his
feeling, and saw that she was gazing at William Pressley with troubled
eyes.

They had scarcely exchanged a word since their quarrel, although she had
made many timid advances toward a reconciliation. It was conscience and
not love which had moved her in all that she had done, but this fact was
not yet clear to her own mind. She was beginning to see it, but she
tried to shut her eyes to the truth, being a loyal soul, and firm in her
high regard for the man whom she had promised to marry. There had been
no opportunity to tell him what she felt; and she was still more
distressed to see that he avoided seeing her alone. It was of this cloud
between them that she was thinking now, and it was that which shadowed
her face. She had not noted very keenly what was going forward about
her. She had shrunk from the judge's excitement and agitation, as she
always did from all violence; but the meaning of his words had not
impressed her deeply or even clearly. Her gentle nature and her tranquil
life were too far from strife, cruelty, and crime for her to grasp the
full purport of the story. She had heard William Pressley speak of
telling Philip Alston, without giving the matter a thought. It was right
in her eyes that he should be told everything. The mention of his name
caused her to think that it would be well to tell him of her quarrel
with William and of her regret and self-reproach. He was wise and kind,
and would know what was right and best to do. Perhaps he might even see
some way by which the engagement could be broken without wrong or hurt
to William's feeli