ifth time) that he would go and watch Jemima once
more, and if her temper got the better of her, and she showed the old
sullenness again, and gave the old proofs of indifference to his good
opinion, he would give her up altogether, and seek a wife elsewhere.
He sat watching her with folded arms, and in silence. Altogether they
were a pleasant family party!

Jemima wanted to wind a skein of wool. Mr Farquhar saw it, and came
to her, anxious to do her this little service. She turned away
pettishly, and asked Ruth to hold it for her.

Ruth was hurt for Mr Farquhar, and looked sorrowfully at Jemima; but
Jemima would not see her glance of upbraiding, as Ruth, hoping that
she would relent, delayed a little to comply with her request. Mr
Farquhar did; and went back to his seat to watch them both. He saw
Jemima turbulent and stormy in look; he saw Ruth, to all appearance
heavenly calm as the angels, or with only that little tinge of sorrow
which her friend's behaviour had called forth. He saw the unusual
beauty of her face and form, which he had never noticed before; and
he saw Jemima, with all the brilliancy she once possessed in eyes and
complexion, dimmed and faded. He watched Ruth, speaking low and soft
to the little girls, who seemed to come to her in every difficulty;
and he remarked her gentle firmness when their bedtime came, and
they pleaded to stay up longer (their father was absent in his
counting-house, or they would not have dared to do so). He liked
Ruth's soft, distinct, unwavering "No! you must go. You must keep to
what is right," far better than the good-natured yielding to entreaty
he had formerly admired in Jemima. He was wandering off into this
comparison, while Ruth, with delicate and unconscious tact, was
trying to lead Jemima into some subject which should take her away
from the thoughts, whatever they were, that made her so ungracious
and rude.

Jemima was ashamed of herself before Ruth, in a way which she had
never been before any one else. She valued Ruth's good opinion so
highly, that she dreaded lest her friend should perceive her faults.
She put a check upon herself--a check at first; but after a little
time she had forgotten something of her trouble, and listened to
Ruth, and questioned her about Leonard, and smiled at his little
witticisms; and only the sighs, that would come up from the very
force of habit, brought back the consciousness of her unhappiness.
Before the end of the evening, Jemi