you could not keep your views to
yourself." It was the habit of all of Levice's relatives to listen in
silence to any personal reprimand the dignified old man might offer.

"I heard a good part of your conversation, and I can only characterize
it as--petty. Can't you and your friends see anything without springing
at shilling-shocker conclusions? Don't you know that people sometimes
enjoy themselves without any further design? So much for the theatre
talk. What is more serious is the fact that you could so misjudge my
honorable friend, Dr. Kemp. Such a thing, Jennie, my girl, would be as
remote from Dr. Kemp's possibilities as the antipodes. Remember, what I
say is indisputable. Whether Ruth knew the story of this girl or not,
I cannot say, but either way I feel assured that what she did was
well done--if innocently; if with knowledge, so much the better. And I
venture to assert that she is not a whit harmed by the action. In
all probability she will tell us all the particulars if we ask her.
Otherwise, Jennie, don't you think you have been unnecessarily alarmed?"
The benign gentleness of his question calmed Mrs. Lewis.

"Uncle," she replied earnestly, "in my life such things are not
trivial; perhaps because my life is narrower. I know you and Ruth take a
different view of everything."

"Don't disparage yourself; people generally do that to be contradicted
or to show that they know their weaknesses and have never cared to
change them. A woman of your intelligence need never sink to the level
of a spiteful chatterbox; every one should keep his tongue sheathed, for
it is more deadly than a sword. Your higher interests should make you
overlook every little action of your neighbors. You only see or hear
what takes place when the window is open; you can never judge from this
what takes place when the window is shut. How are the children?"

By dint of great tenderness he strove to make her more at ease.

Ruth, confronted with their knowledge, confessed, with flushed cheeks
and glowing eyes, her contretemps.

"And," she said in conclusion, "Father, Mamma, nothing you can say will
make me retract anything I have done or purpose doing."

"Nothing?" repeated her father.

"I hope you won't ask me to, but that is my decision."

"My darling, I dislike to hear you call yourself a mule," said her
father, looking at her with something softer than disapproval; "but in
this case I shall not use the whip to turn you from your pu