Hope-Acton sailed into the room, he felt that, however conducive to
study, it was not the attitude in which he would at that moment have
chosen to be found. Ruth felt the same. It had seemed so natural a
moment before, it was so hideously suggestive now.

Perhaps Lady Hope-Acton would pass on through the other door, so widely,
so invitingly open. Neither stirred, in the hope that she might do so.
But in the centre of the room she stopped and sighed--the slow,
crackling sigh of a stout woman in a too well-fitting silk gown.

Charles suddenly felt as if his muddy boots and cords were trying to
catch her eye, as if every book on the shelves were calling to her to
look up.

For a second Ruth and Charles gazed down upon the top of Lady
Hope-Acton's head, the bald place on which showed dimly through her
semi-transparent cap. She moved slightly, as if to go; but no, another
step was drawing near. In another moment Lady Grace came in through the
opposite door in her riding-habit.

Ruth felt that it was now or never for a warning cough; but, as she
glanced at Charles kneeling beside her, she could not give it. Surely
they would pass out in another second. The thought of the two pairs of
eyes which would be raised, and the expression in them was intolerable.

"Grace," said Lady Hope-Acton, with dreadful distinctness, advancing to
meet her daughter, "has he spoken?"

"No," said Lady Grace, with a little sob; "and,"--with a sudden burst of
tears--"oh, mamma, I don't think he ever will."

Oh, to have coughed, to have sneezed, to have choked a moment earlier!
Anything would have been better than this.

"Run up-stairs this moment, then, and change your habit and bathe your
eyes," said Lady Hope-Acton, sharply. "You need not come down till
dinner-time. I will say you are tired."

And then, to the overwhelming relief of those two miserable spectators,
the mother and daughter left the door.

But to the momentary sensation of relief in Ruth's mind a rush of pity
succeeded for the childlike grief and tears; and with and behind it,
like one hurrying wave overtopping and bearing down its predecessor,
came a burning indignation against the cause of that picturesque
emotion.

It is indeed a lamentable peculiarity of our fallen nature that the
moment of relief from the smart of anxiety is seldom marked by so
complete a mental calmness and moderation as could be wished.

Ruth rose slowly, with the book still in her hand, and Charl