that I could not do more; but I cannot
tell him all the sorrows and worries that have taken up my time."

"And yet I am tempted to give you another little commission, if it is
not taking up too much of your time, and presuming too much on your
good-nature," said he, a bright idea having just struck him. "Mrs
Mason lives in Heneage Place, does not she? My mother's ancestors
lived there; and once, when the house was being repaired, she took me
in to show me the old place. There was an old hunting-piece painted
on a panel over one of the chimney-pieces; the figures were portraits
of my ancestors. I have often thought I should like to purchase it,
if it still remained there. Can you ascertain this for me, and bring
me word next Sunday?"

"Oh, yes, sir," said Ruth, glad that this commission was completely
within her power to execute, and anxious to make up for her previous
seeming neglect. "I'll look directly I get home, and ask Mrs Mason to
write and let you know."

"Thank you," said he, only half satisfied; "I think perhaps, however,
it might be as well not to trouble Mrs Mason about it; you see, it
would compromise me, and I am not quite determined to purchase the
picture; if you would ascertain whether the painting is there, and
tell me, I would take a little time to reflect, and afterwards I
could apply to Mrs Mason myself."

"Very well, sir; I will see about it." So they parted.

Before the next Sunday, Mrs Wood had taken her daughter to her
distant home, to recruit in that quiet place. Ruth watched her down
the street from an upper window, and, sighing deep and long, returned
to the workroom, whence the warning voice and the gentle wisdom had
departed.

CHAPTER III

Sunday at Mrs Mason's

Mr Bellingham attended afternoon service at St Nicholas' church the
next Sunday. His thoughts had been far more occupied by Ruth than
hers by him, although his appearance upon the scene of her life
was more an event to her than it was to him. He was puzzled by the
impression she had produced on him, though he did not in general
analyse the nature of his feelings, but simply enjoyed them with the
delight which youth takes in experiencing new and strong emotion.

He was old compared to Ruth, but young as a man; hardly
three-and-twenty. The fact of his being an only child had given
him, as it does to many, a sort of inequality in those parts of the
character which are usually formed by the number of years that a
per