them that certain
subjects should be avoided, upon which, each instinctively felt, they
were not likely to agree. And if the shrewd old woman of the world ever
suspected the existence of a strength of will and depth of character in
Ruth such as had, in her own early life, been a source of annoyance and
perplexity to herself in her dealings with her husband, she was skilful
enough to ignore any traces of it that showed themselves in her
granddaughter, and thus avoided those collisions of will, the result of
which she felt might have been doubtful.

And so Ruth had lived a life full of varied interests, and among
interesting people, and had been waked up suddenly in a gray and frosted
dawn to find that chapter of her life closed. Lady Deyncourt, who never
thought of travelling without her maid and footman, suddenly went on a
long journey alone one wild January morning, starting, without any
previous preparation, for a land in which she had never professed much
interest heretofore. It seemed a pity that she should have to die when
she had so thoroughly acquired the art of living, with little trouble to
herself, and much pleasure to others; but so it was.

And then, in Ruth's confused remembrance of what followed, all the world
seemed to have turned to black and gray. There was no color anywhere,
where all had been color before. Miles of black cloth and crape seemed
to extend before her; black horses came and stamped black hoof-marks in
the snow before the door. Endless arrangements had to be made, endless
letters to be written. Something was carried heavily down-stairs, all in
black, scoring the wall at the turn on the stairs in a way which would
have annoyed Lady Deyncourt exceedingly if she had been there to see it,
but she had left several days before it happened. The last pale shadow
of the kind, gay little grandmother was gone from the great front
bedroom up-stairs. Mr. Alwynn, one of Ruth's uncles, came up from the
country and went to the funeral, and took Ruth away afterwards. Her own
sister Anna was abroad with her husband, her brother Raymond had not
been heard of for years. As she drove away from the house, and looked up
at the windows with wide tearless eyes, she suddenly realized that this
departure was final, that there would be no coming back, no home left
for her in the familiar rooms where she and another had lived so long
together.

Mr. Alwynn was by her side in the carriage, patting her cold hands and