No mother would have sent her daughter into the world with such a wardrobe. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. . Through all this flutter of novelty there came and went a solicitous, preoccupied, almost depressed figure. modern. There was—a service. He believed me when I asked him to marry me. Lucy tried not to make her cringe noticeable. So long as matters remain as they are, and they found me, there would be no shame for Ruth. A pity you did not think to tell me that part of the tale at the outset. Mr.
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