had begged to see it? It was all the more
annoying, because he looked so handsome in it. Like most men who are
admired by women, he was not much liked by men.

But the house to which he came the oftenest was Slumberleigh Rectory. He
was faithful to his early admiration of Ruth; and the only obstacle to
his making her (in his opinion) happy among women, namely, her possible
want of fortune, had long since been removed by the confidential remarks
of Mrs. Alwynn. To his foreign habits and ideas fourteen or fifteen
hundred a year represented a very large sum. In his eyes Ruth was an
heiress, and in all good earnest he set himself to win her. Mr. Alwynn
had now become the proper person to consult regarding his property; and
at first, to Ruth's undisguised satisfaction, he consulted him nearly
every other day, his horse at last taking the turn for Slumberleigh as a
matter of course. Many a time, in these August days, might Mrs. Eccles
and all the other inhabitants of Slumberleigh have seen Dare ride up the
little street, taking as much active exercise as his horse, only
skyward; the saddle being to him merely a point of rebound.

But if the object of his frequent visits was misunderstood by Ruth at
first, Dare did not allow it to remain so long. And not only Ruth
herself, but Mr. and Mrs. Alwynn, and the rectory servants, and half the
parish were soon made aware of the state of his affections. What was the
good of being in love, of having in view a social aim of such a
praiseworthy nature, if no one were aware of the same? Dare was not the
man to hide even a night-light under a bushel; how much less a burning
and a shining hymeneal torch such as this. His sentiments were strictly
honorable. If he raised expectations, he was also quite prepared to
fulfil them. Miss Deyncourt was quite right to treat him with her
adorable, placid assumption of indifference until his attentions were
more avowed. In the mean while she was an angel, a lily, a pearl, a
star, and several other things, animal, vegetable, and mineral, which
his vivid imagination chose to picture her. But whatever Dare's faults
may have been--and Ruth was not blind to them--he was at least head over
ears in love with her, fortune or none; and as his attachment deepened,
it burned up like fire all the little follies with which it had begun.

A clergyman has been said to have made love to the helpmeet of his
choice out of the Epistle to the Galatians. Dare made his out