tin' round the bush. It's important enough."

"He has asked me to marry him, and I have said 'yes.'"

"What else _could_ ye say?"

"Of _course_ she said 'yes,' the darling!" Mrs. Josselin clapped her
hands together, without noise. "What did I ever say but that 'twas a
chance, if you used it? But when is it to be?" she added, suspiciously.

"Very soon. As soon as I please, in fact."

"You take my advice and pin him to it. The sooner the better--eh,
darling?"

Ruth rose wearily. "I see the pot boiling," she said with a glance at
the fireplace, "and I have been on horseback since seven o'clock.
Mother, won't you give me food, at least? I am hungry as a hunter."

--But this was very nearly a fib. She had been hungry enough, half an
hour ago. Now her throat worked in disgust--not at the hovel and its
poverty; for these were dear--but at the thought that thus for three
years her dearest had been thinking of her. It had been the home of
infinite mutual tolerance, of some affection--an affection not patent
perhaps--and for years it had been all she owned. Now it lived on, but
was poisoned; the atmosphere of the humble place was poisoned, and
through her.

"Food?"--her mother rose. "Food be sure, and a bed, deary: for you'll
be sleeping here, of course?"

"No. I go on to Port Nassau; and thence in a few days to a lodging up
in the back country."

"Such a mare as she's ridin' too!" put in the old man.

"I wouldn' put up at Port Nassau, if I was you," said her mother pausing
as she made ready to lift the pot-handle. "They won't know what you've
told us, and they'll cast up the old shame on you."

"M'ria ha'n't talked so sensible for days," said the old man.
"Joy must ha' steadied her. . . . Clams, is it? Clams, I hope."

The meal over, Ruth took leave of them, reproaching herself for her
haste, though troubled to have delayed the grooms so long.

She mounted and rode forward thoughtfully.

The grooms did not wear the Vyell white and scarlet, but a sober livery
of dark blue. Between more serious thoughts Ruth wondered if any one in
Port Nassau would recognise her.

The hostess of the Bowling Green did not, but came to the door and
dropped curtsies to her, as to a grand lady. She startled Ruth,
however, by respectfully asking her name.

Ruth, who had forgotten to provide against this, had a happy
inspiration.

"I am Miss Ruth," she said.

The landlady desired to be informed how to spell it