that for her
part she liked only what was perfectly _true_, by which it is believed
she meant prose.

She had no books of her own. In times of illness she borrowed from Mrs.
Thursby (who had all Miss Young's works, and selections from the
publications of the S.P.C.K.). On Sundays, when she could not work, she
read, half aloud, of course, with sighs at intervals, a little manual
called "Gold Dust," or a smaller one still called "Pearls of Great
Price," which she had once recommended to Charles, whom she knew
slightly, and about whom she affected to know a great deal, which
nothing (except pressing) would induce her to repeat; which rendered
the application of the "Pearls," to be followed by the "Dust," most
essential to his future welfare.

On this particular morning in August, Ruth had slipped out as far as the
chestnut-tree, the lower part of which was hidden from the rectory
windows by a blessed yew hedge. It was too hot to walk, it was too hot
to draw, it was even too hot to read. It did not seem, however, to be
too hot to _ride_, for presently she heard a horse's hoofs clattering
across the stones of the stable-yard, and she knew, from the familiarity
of the sound at that hour of the day, that Dare had probably ridden
over, and, more probably still, would stay to luncheon.

The foreign gentleman, as all the village people called him, had by this
time become quite an institution in the neighborhood of Vandon. Every
one liked him, and he liked every one. Like the sun, he shone upon the
just and unjust. He went to every tennis-party to which he was invited.
He was pleased if people were at home when he called. He became in many
houses a privileged person, and he never abused his privileges. Women
especially liked him. He had what Mrs. Eccles defined as "such a way
with him;" his way being to make every woman he met think that she was
particularly interesting in his eyes--for the time being. Men did not,
of course, care for him so much. When he stayed anywhere, it was vaguely
felt by the sterner sex of the party that he stole a march upon them.
While they were smoking, after their kind, in clusters on the lawn, it
would suddenly be observed that he was sitting in the drawing-room,
giving a lesson in netting, or trying over a new song encircled by young
ladyhood. It was felt that he took an unfair advantage. What business
had he to come down to tea in that absurd amber plush smoking-suit, just
because the elder ladies