! I have deserved it, but he--he is so
innocent and good."

Ruth had caught up her shawl, and was tying on her bonnet with her
trembling hands. What if Leonard was hearing of her shame from common
report? What would be the mysterious shock of the intelligence? She
must face him, and see the look in his eyes, before she knew whether
he recoiled from her; he might have his heart turned to hate her, by
their cruel jeers.

Jemima stood by, dumb and pitying. Her sorrow was past her power. She
helped in arranging the dress, with one or two gentle touches, which
were hardly felt by Ruth, but which called out all Mr Bradshaw's
ire afresh; he absolutely took her by the shoulders and turned her
by force out of the room. In the hall, and along the stairs, her
passionate woeful crying was heard. The sound only concentrated Mr
Bradshaw's anger on Ruth. He held the street-door open wide, and
said, between his teeth, "If ever you, or your bastard, darken this
door again, I will have you both turned out by the police!"

He need not have added this, if he had seen Ruth's face.

CHAPTER XXVII

Preparing to Stand on the Truth

As Ruth went along the accustomed streets, every sight and every
sound seemed to bear a new meaning, and each and all to have some
reference to her boy's disgrace. She held her head down, and scudded
along dizzy with fear, lest some word should have told him what she
had been, and what he was, before she could reach him. It was a wild,
unreasoning fear, but it took hold of her as strongly as if it had
been well founded. And, indeed, the secret whispered by Mrs Pearson,
whose curiosity and suspicion had been excited by Jemima's manner,
and confirmed since by many a little corroborating circumstance, had
spread abroad, and was known to most of the gossips in Eccleston
before it reached Mr Bradshaw's ears.

As Ruth came up to the door of the Chapel-house, it was opened, and
Leonard came out, bright and hopeful as the morning, his face radiant
at the prospect of the happy day before him. He was dressed in the
clothes it had been such a pleasant pride to her to make for him. He
had the dark blue ribbon tied round his neck that she had left out
for him that very morning, with a smiling thought of how it would
set off his brown, handsome face. She caught him by the hand as they
met, and turned him, with his face homewards, without a word. Her
looks, her rushing movement, her silence, awed him; and although