the only person Mr Farquhar saw; as Ruth always shrank from
the post of opening the door, and Mr Benson was apt at recognising
individual knocks, and always prompt to welcome Mr Farquhar.

Miss Benson occasionally thought--and what she thought she was in
the habit of saying--that Jemima might have come herself to announce
such an event to old friends; but Mr Benson decidedly vindicated her
from any charge of neglect, by expressing his strong conviction that
to her they owed Mr Farquhar's calls--his all but outspoken offers
of service--his quiet, steady interest in Leonard; and, moreover
(repeating the conversation he had had with her in the street, the
first time they met after the disclosure), Mr Benson told his sister
how glad he was to find that, with all the warmth of her impetuous
disposition hurrying her on to rebellion against her father, she was
now attaining to that just self-control which can distinguish between
mere wishes and true reasons--that she could abstain from coming to
see Ruth while she could do but little good, reserving herself for
some great occasion or strong emergency.

Ruth said nothing, but she yearned all the more in silence to
see Jemima. In her recollection of that fearful interview with
Mr Bradshaw, which haunted her yet, sleeping or waking, she was
painfully conscious that she had not thanked Jemima for her generous,
loving advocacy; it had passed unregarded at the time in intensity
of agony--but now she recollected that by no word, or tone, or touch,
had she given any sign of gratitude. Mr Benson had never told her of
his meeting with Jemima; so it seemed as if there were no hope of any
future opportunity: for it is strange how two households, rent apart
by some dissension, can go through life, their parallel existences
running side by side, yet never touching each other, near neighbours
as they are, habitual and familiar guests as they may have been.

Ruth's only point of hope was Leonard. She was weary of looking for
work and employment, which everywhere seemed held above her reach.
She was not impatient of this, but she was very, very sorry. She felt
within her such capability, and all ignored her, and passed her by
on the other side. But she saw some progress in Leonard. Not that he
could continue to have the happy development, and genial ripening,
which other boys have; leaping from childhood to boyhood, and thence
to youth, with glad bounds, and unconsciously enjoying every age