s. But, by degrees,
as I threaded my way among the moving crowds, I came to a better and
more worthy frame of mind. After all, I had lost nothing that I had ever
had. Ruth was still all that she had ever been to me--perhaps even more;
and if that had been a rich endowment yesterday, why not to-day also?
And how unfair it would be to her if I should mope and grieve over a
disappointment that was no fault of hers and for which there was no
remedy! Thus I reasoned with myself, and to such purpose that, by the
time I reached Fetter Lane, my dejection had come to quite manageable
proportions and I had formed the resolution to get back to the _status
quo ante bellum_ as soon as possible.

About eight o'clock, as I was sitting alone in the consulting-room,
gloomily persuading myself that I was now quite resigned to the
inevitable, Adolphus brought me a registered packet, at the handwriting
on which my heart gave such a bound that I had much ado to sign the
receipt. As soon as Adolphus had retired (with undissembled contempt of
the shaky signature) I tore open the packet, and as I drew out a letter
a tiny box dropped on the table.

The letter was all too short, and I devoured it over and over again with
the eagerness of a condemned man reading a reprieve:--

"My Dear Paul,

"Forgive me for leaving you so abruptly this afternoon, and leaving you
so unhappy, too. I am more sane and reasonable now, and so send you
greeting and beg you not to grieve for that which can never be. It is
quite impossible, dear friend, and I entreat you, as you care for me,
never to speak of it again; never again to make me feel that I can give
so little when you have given so much. And do not try to see me for a
little while. I shall miss your visits, and so will my father, who is
very fond of you; but it is better that we should not meet, until we can
take up the old relations--if that can ever be.

"I am sending you a little keepsake in case we should drift apart on
the eddies of life. It is the ring that I told you about--the one that
my uncle gave me. Perhaps you may be able to wear it as you have a small
hand, but in any case keep it in remembrance of our friendship. The
device on it is the Eye of Osiris, a mystic symbol for which I have a
sentimentally superstitious affection, as also had my poor uncle, who
actually bore it tattooed in scarlet on his breast. It signifies that
the great judge of the dead looks down on men to see that justice