That's the way she strikes me. Youth! You denied me even that," said Ruth, her glance now flashing to her father. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. Bowing to the stranger, the woollen-draper very politely requested to know his business. She looked more than her sixty odd years, in spite of a still lush head of black hair, streaked with a little grey, which was visible under her cap and of immediate interest to Gerald. " "I hope such a thing never will happen again, my dear," observed Wood, mildly, "but, when it does, it will be time to consider what course we ought to pursue.
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