lla. She turned to Mary, and
said,

"Mary, give your umbrella to Mr Donne, and come under mine." Her way
of speaking was short and decided; she was compressing her meaning
into as few words as possible. The little girl obeyed in silence. As
they went first through the churchyard stile, Mr Donne spoke again.

"You are unforgiving," said he. "I only ask you to hear me. I have a
right to be heard, Ruth! I won't believe you are so much changed, as
not to listen to me when I entreat."

He spoke in a tone of soft complaint. But he himself had done much
to destroy the illusion which had hung about his memory for years,
whenever Ruth had allowed herself to think of it. Besides which,
during the time of her residence in the Benson family, her feeling of
what people ought to be had been unconsciously raised and refined;
and Mr Donne, even while she had to struggle against the force of
past recollections, repelled her so much by what he was at present,
that every speech of his, every minute they were together, served
to make her path more and more easy to follow. His voice retained
something of its former influence. When he spoke, without her seeing
him, she could not help remembering former days.

She did not answer this last speech any more than the first. She
saw clearly, that, putting aside all thought as to the character of
their former relationship, it had been dissolved by his will--his
act and deed; and that, therefore, the power to refuse any further
intercourse whatsoever remained with her.

It sometimes seems a little strange how, after having earnestly
prayed to be delivered from temptation, and having given ourselves
with shut eyes into God's hand, from that time every thought, every
outward influence, every acknowledged law of life, seems to lead us
on from strength to strength. It seems strange sometimes, because
we notice the coincidence; but it is the natural, unavoidable
consequence of all truth and goodness being one and the same, and
therefore carried out in every circumstance, external and internal,
of God's creation.

When Mr Donne saw that Ruth would not answer him, he became only the
more determined that she should hear what he had to say. What that
was he did not exactly know. The whole affair was most mysterious and
piquant.

The umbrella protected Ruth from more than the rain on that walk
homewards, for under its shelter she could not be spoken to unheard.
She had not rightly understood at what