of a wonder than he considered it to be, it is true, for
she never thought of comparing what she was now with her former self,
much less with another. Indeed, she did not think of herself at all,
but of her boy, and what she must learn in order to teach him to be
and to do as suited her hope and her prayer. If any one's devotion
could have flattered her into self-consciousness, it was Jemima's. Mr
Bradshaw never dreamed that his daughter could feel herself inferior
to the minister's _protegee_, but so it was; and no knight-errant of
old could consider himself more honoured by his ladye's commands than
did Jemima, if Ruth allowed her to do anything for her or for her
boy. Ruth loved her heartily, even while she was rather annoyed at
the open expressions Jemima used of admiration.

"Please, I really would rather not be told if people do think me
pretty."

"But it was not merely beautiful; it was sweet-looking and good, Mrs
Postlethwaite called you," replied Jemima.

"All the more I would rather not hear it. I may be pretty, but I know
I am not good. Besides, I don't think we ought to hear what is said
of us behind our backs."

Ruth spoke so gravely, that Jemima feared lest she was displeased.

"Dear Mrs Denbigh, I never will admire or praise you again. Only let
me love you."

"And let me love you!" said Ruth, with a tender kiss.

Jemima would not have been allowed to come so frequently if Mr
Bradshaw had not been possessed with the idea of patronising Ruth. If
the latter had chosen, she might have gone dressed from head to foot
in the presents which he wished to make her, but she refused them
constantly; occasionally to Miss Benson's great annoyance. But if
he could not load her with gifts, he could show his approbation by
asking her to his house; and after some deliberation, she consented
to accompany Mr and Miss Benson there. The house was square and
massy-looking, with a great deal of drab-colour about the furniture.
Mrs Bradshaw, in her lackadaisical, sweet-tempered way, seconded her
husband in his desire of being kind to Ruth; and as she cherished
privately a great taste for what was beautiful or interesting, as
opposed to her husband's love of the purely useful, this taste of
hers had rarely had so healthy and true a mode of gratification as
when she watched Ruth's movements about the room, which seemed in
its unobtrusiveness and poverty of colour to receive the requisite
ornament of light and splendour fr