a person thoroughly worn out with late contest. She
was bodily wearied with her spiritual buffeting.

One morning, three or four days after their departure, she received a
letter from Miss Benson. She could not open it at first, and put it
on one side, clenching her hand over it all the time. At last she
tore it open. Leonard was safe as yet. There were a few lines in his
great round hand, speaking of events no larger than the loss of a
beautiful "alley." There was a sheet from Miss Benson. She always
wrote letters in the manner of a diary. "Monday we did so-and-so;
Tuesday, so-and-so, &c." Ruth glanced rapidly down the page. Yes,
here it was! Sick, fluttering heart, be still!

"In the middle of the damsons, when they were just on the fire, there
was a knock at the door. My brother was out, and Sally was washing
up, and I was stirring the preserve with my great apron and bib on;
so I bade Leonard come in from the garden and open the door. But I
would have washed his face first, if I had known who it was! It was
Mr Bradshaw and the Mr Donne that they hope to send up to the House
of Commons, as member of Parliament for Eccleston, and another
gentleman, whose name I never heard. They had come canvassing; and
when they found my brother was out, they asked Leonard if they could
see me. The child said, 'Yes! if I could leave the damsons;' and
straightway came to call me, leaving them standing in the passage. I
whipped off my apron, and took Leonard by the hand, for I fancied I
should feel less awkward if he was with me; and then I went and asked
them all into the study, for I thought I should like them to see how
many books Thurstan had got. Then they began talking politics at me
in a very polite manner, only I could not make head or tail of what
they meant; and Mr Donne took a deal of notice of Leonard, and called
him to him; and I am sure he noticed what a noble, handsome boy he
was, though his face was very brown and red, and hot with digging,
and his curls all tangled. Leonard talked back as if he had known him
all his life, till, I think, Mr Bradshaw thought he was making too
much noise, and bid him remember he ought to be seen, not heard. So
he stood as still and stiff as a soldier, close to Mr Donne; and as
I could not help looking at the two, and thinking how handsome they
both were in their different ways, I could not tell Thurstan half the
messages the gentlemen left for him. But there was one thing more I
must t