but
they filled him with vague, helpless terror. He did not know what to do
till he suddenly felt the urgency of the message to Ruth, and the
thought of her made him turn and start running back to Cedar House.

As he went, he instinctively tried to calm himself; he was fast learning
to hide the emotion which was always shaking him. On reaching the door
he paused for a moment, and strove hard to control his panting breath.
He almost hoped that this might prove to be merely one of the fancies
which were constantly swaying him. And then there was an instinctive
feeling that it would be best not to tell any one except Ruth what had
occurred. The meaning of the message to her was not yet clear to him,
but he nevertheless felt it to be something which she might not wish
others to hear. He did not remember that the message was not to be given
her unless Paul failed to come back. There had not been time for Paul
to impress this upon him, and it was natural enough that the boy,
startled and frightened, should not have noted all that was said.

His one aim now was to get a word alone with Ruth, and hastily looking
round the room, he saw her sitting near the hearth. But there was no
chance to approach her, or to speak without being overheard by the whole
family. Every member of the household was present, it being the evening
hour when all households come closest together around the fireside. The
supper-table was laid, and a servant moved about lighting the lamps and
candles. William Pressley was sitting near Ruth, but it was she who had
last taken a seat and he was silent, save as some timid advance from her
compelled him to make a coldly civil reply. His resentment was as
implacable as ever; the wound to his self-love had only grown deeper
with nursing, as it always does with a nature like his. The breaking of
the engagement was with him, now, merely a question of timeliness, of
discretion and expediency. In these matters he was not considering
Ruth's feelings as she was considering his, despite her own most eager
wish to be free. He was thinking first of the light in which he,
himself, would be placed. After this he was considering Philip Alston's
view of his conduct. Knowing that he wished the marriage to take place,
William Pressley felt reasonably sure that Philip Alston would be
displeased at any breach, and that he would make his displeasure felt,
should the first movement toward the breaking of the engagement come
from hi