Ruth, the next morning, left us, in spite of all that we could do. She
vowed an everlasting friendship to my younger sister Eliza; but she
looked at Annie with some resentment, when they said good-bye, for being
so much taller. At any rate so Annie fancied, but she may have been
quite wrong. I rode beside the little maid till far beyond Exeford, when
all danger of the moor was past, and then I left her with John Fry, not
wishing to be too particular, after all the talk about her money. She
had tears in her eyes when she bade me farewell, and she sent a kind
message home to mother, and promised to come again at Christmas, if she
could win permission.

Upon the whole, my opinion was that she had behaved uncommonly well for
a maid whose self-love was outraged, with spirit, I mean, and proper
pride; and yet with a great endeavour to forgive, which is, meseems, the
hardest of all things to a woman, outside of her own family.

After this, for another month, nothing worthy of notice happened, except
of course that I found it needful, according to the strictest good sense
and honour, to visit Lorna immediately after my discourse with mother,
and to tell her all about it. My beauty gave me one sweet kiss with all
her heart (as she always did, when she kissed at all), and I begged for
one more to take to our mother, and before leaving, I obtained it. It
is not for me to tell all she said, even supposing (what is not likely)
that any one cared to know it, being more and more peculiar to ourselves
and no one else. But one thing that she said was this, and I took good
care to carry it, word for word, to my mother and Annie:--

'I never can believe, dear John, that after all the crime and outrage
wrought by my reckless family, it ever can be meant for me to settle
down to peace and comfort in a simple household. With all my heart I
long for home; any home, however dull and wearisome to those used to
it, would seem a paradise to me, if only free from brawl and tumult,
and such as I could call my own. But even if God would allow me this, in
lieu of my wild inheritance, it is quite certain that the Doones never
can and never will.'

Again, when I told her how my mother and Annie, as well as myself,
longed to have her at Plover's Barrows, and teach her all the quiet
duties in which she was sure to take such delight, she only answered
with a bright blush, that while her grandfather was living she would
never leave him; and that even if