ld. In those days the house-place had been a
cheerful room, full of life, with the passing to and fro of husband,
child, and servants; with a great merry wood fire crackling and
blazing away every evening, and hardly let out in the very heat of
summer; for with the thick stone walls, and the deep window-seats,
and the drapery of vine-leaves and ivy, that room, with its
flag-floor, seemed always to want the sparkle and cheery warmth of a
fire. But now the green shadows from without seemed to have become
black in the uninhabited desolation. The oaken shovel-board, the
heavy dresser, and the carved cupboards, were now dull and damp,
which were formerly polished up to the brightness of a looking-glass
where the fire-blaze was for ever glinting; they only added to the
oppressive gloom; the flag-floor was wet with heavy moisture. Ruth
stood gazing into the room, seeing nothing of what was present. She
saw a vision of former days--an evening in the days of her childhood;
her father sitting in the "master's corner" near the fire, sedately
smoking his pipe, while he dreamily watched his wife and child; her
mother reading to her, as she sat on a little stool at her feet. It
was gone--all gone into the land of shadows; but for the moment it
seemed so present in the old room, that Ruth believed her actual life
to be the dream. Then, still silent, she went on into her mother's
parlour. But there, the bleak look of what had once been full of
peace and mother's love, struck cold on her heart. She uttered a cry,
and threw herself down by the sofa, hiding her face in her hands,
while her frame quivered with her repressed sobs.

"Dearest Ruth, don't give way so. It can do no good; it cannot bring
back the dead," said Mr Bellingham, distressed at witnessing her
distress.

"I know it cannot," murmured Ruth; "and that is why I cry. I cry
because nothing will ever bring them back again." She sobbed afresh,
but more gently, for his kind words soothed her, and softened, if
they could not take away, her sense of desolation.

"Come away; I cannot have you stay here, full of painful
associations as these rooms must be. Come"--raising her with gentle
violence--"show me your little garden you have often told me about.
Near the window of this very room, is it not? See how well I remember
everything you tell me."

He led her round through the back part of the house into the pretty
old-fashioned garden. There was a sunny border just under the
wi