otype case, much worn and frayed
along the leather back, and without the little brass hooks which used to
fasten it; instead, a bit of ribbon had been tied about it to keep it
closed. Mr. Denner did not open it; he patted the faded green bow with
his little thin fingers.

"It is a portrait of myself," he said. "It belonged to my mother. I had
it taken for her when I was but a boy; yes, I was only thirty. She tied
the ribbon; it has never been opened since."

He put it down on the stand, by the miniature, under the gillies and
lupins.

So it happened that when Miss Ruth Woodhouse came to inquire for him, she
had been in Mr. Denner's thoughts all the afternoon. "Not," he kept
assuring himself, "not that I have changed my mind,--not at all,--but she
is Miss Deborah's sister."

It was after five when Mary pushed the library door open softly, and
looked in, and then beckoned mysteriously to Gifford.

"It is your aunt; she wants to know how he is. You'd better come and tell
her."

Mr. Denner heard her, and turned his head feebly towards the door. "Miss
Woodhouse, did you say, Mary? Which Miss Woodhouse, if you please?"

"It's the young one," said Mary, who spoke relatively.

"Miss Ruth?" Mr. Denner said, with an eager quaver in his voice.
"Gifford, do you think--would you have any objection, Gifford, to
permitting me to see your aunt? That is, if she would be so obliging
and kind as to step in for a moment?"

"She will be glad to, I know," Gifford answered. "Let me go and bring
her."

Miss Ruth was in a flutter of grief and excitement. "I'll come, of
course. I--I had rather hoped I might see him; but what will Deborah say?
Yet I can't but think it's better for him not to see two people at once."

Mr. Denner greeted her by a feeble flourish of his hand. "Oh, dear me,
Mr. Denner," said she, half crying, in spite of Gifford's whispered
caution, "I'm so distressed to see you so ill, indeed I am."

"Oh, not at all," responded Mr. Denner, but his voice had a strange,
far-away sound in his ears, and he tried to speak louder and more
confidently,--"not at all. You are very good to come, ma'am;" and then
he stopped to remember what it was he had wished to say.

Miss Ruth was awed into silence, and there was a growing anxiety in
Gifford's face.

"Ah--yes"--Mr. Denner began again, with a flash of strength in his tone,
"I wished to ask you if you would accept--accept"--he reached towards the
little table, but he could n