she remarked that he would have a beautiful wife. Didn't Mr. Westlock think so?
"Ye—yes," said John; "oh, yes."
She feared he was rather hard to please, he spoke so coldly.
"Rather say already pleased," said John. "I have scarcely seen her. I had no care to see her. I had no eyes for 'her, this morning."
Oh, good gracious!
It was well they had reached their destination. She never could have gone any further. It would have been impossible to walk in such a tremble.
Tom had not come in. They entered the triangular parlour together, and alone. Fiery Face, Fiery Face, how many years' purchase now!
She sat down on the little sofa, and untied her bonnet-strings. He sat down by her side, and very near her: very, very near her. Oh, rapid, swelling, bursting little heart, you knew that it would come to this, and hoped it would. Why beat so wildly, heart!
"Dear Ruth! Sweet Ruth! If I had loved you less, I could have told you that I loved you, long ago. I have loved you from the first. There never was a creature in the world more truly loved than you, dear Ruth, by me!"
She clasped her little hands before her face. The gushing tears of joy, and pride, and hope, and innocent affection, would not be restrained. Fresh from her full young heart they came to answer him.
"My dear love! If this is: I almost dare to hope it is, now: not painful or distressing to you, you make me happier than I can tell, or you imagine. Darling Ruth! My own good, gentle, winning Ruth! I hope I know the value of your heart, I hope I know the worth of your angel nature. Let me try and show you that I do; and you will make me happier, Ruth"
"Not happier," she sobbed, "than you make me. No one can be happier, John, than you make me!"
Fiery Face, provide yourself! The usual wages, or the usual warning. It's all over, Fiery Face. We needn't trouble you any further.
The little hands could meet each other now, without a rampant horse to urge them. There was no occasion for lions, bears, or mad bulls. It could all be done, and infinitely better, without their assistance. No burly drayman, or big butts of beer, were wanted for apologies. No apology at all was wanted. The soft, light touch fell coyly, but quite naturally, upon the lover's shoulder; the delicate waist, the drooping head, the blushing cheek, the beautiful eyes, the exquisite little mouth itself, were all as natural as possible. If all the horses in Araby had run away at once, they couldn't have improved upon it.
They soon began to talk of Tom again.
"I hope he will be glad to hear of it!" said John, with sparkling eyes.
Ruth drew the little hands a little tighter when he said it, and looked up seriously into his face.
"I am never to leave him, am I, dear? I could never leave Tom. I am sure you know that."
"Do you think I would ask you?" he returned, with a—well! Never mind with what.
