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It was not the arrival of the guests, but merely the maid moving about in the hall. "But I like Bobby Burns best. Sheppard, with a laugh that cut the ears of those who listened to it like a razor,—"Do not despair! And who or what shall give me comfort when my son is gone? I have wept till my eyes are dry,—suffered till my heart is broken,—prayed till the voice of prayer is dumb,—and all of no avail. She can be of use to me yet. She had something of the feeling a Hindoo must experience who has been into surroundings or touched something that offends his caste. " Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson.
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