A medley of motives warred in her, and it was certainly not one of the least of these that she knew herself to be passionately in love with Capes; at moments she had a giddy intimation that he was beginning to feel keenly interested in her. Here they remained till midnight when, calling for their reckoning and their steeds, they left the house. ‘Parbleu,’ said Gerald. Her aunt was making herself cuffs out of little slips of insertion under the newly lit lamp. It was a mad half-hour. A great bowl of scarlet carnations gleamed from a dark corner, set against the background of a deep brown wall. Ruth was at that stage where the absorption of facts is great, but where the mental digestion is not quite equal to the task.
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