—just to get a little farther off—upon the sofa, when Tom and Mr. Chuzzlewit came in. Mr. Chuzzlewit came first, and Tom was a few seconds behind him.
Now Ruth had hastily resolved that she would beckon Tom up stairs after a short time, and would tell him in his little bedroom. But when she saw his dear old face come in, her heart was so touched that she ran into his arms, and laid her head down on his breast, and sobbed out, "Bless me, Tom! My dearest brother!"
Tom looked up, in surprise, and saw John Westlock close beside him, holding out his hand.
"John!" cried Tom. "John!"
"Dear Tom," said his friend, "give me your hand. We are brothers, Tom."
Tom wrung it with all his force, embraced his sister fervently, and put her in John Westlock's arms.
"Don't speak to me, John. Heaven is very good to us. I" Tom could find no further utterance, but left the room; and Ruth went after him.
And when they came back, which they did by-and-by, she looked more beautiful, and Tom more good and true (if that were possible) than ever. And though Tom could not speak upon the subject even now: being yet too newly glad: he put both his hands in both of John's with emphasis sufficient for the best speech ever spoken.
"I am glad you chose to-day," said Mr. Chuzzlewit to John; with the same knowing smile as when they had left him. "I thought you would. I hope Tom and I lingered behind a discreet time. It's so long since I had any practical knowledge of these subjects, that I have been anxious, I assure you."
"Your knowledge is still pretty accurate, Sir," returned John laughing, "if it led you to foresee what would happen to-day."
"Why, I am not sure, Mr. Westlock," said the old man, "that any great spirit of prophesy was needed, after seeing you and Ruth together. Come hither, pretty one. See what Tom and I purchased this morning, while you were dealing in exchange with that young merchant there."
The old man's way of seating her beside him, and humouring his voice as if she were a child, was whimsical enough, but full of tenderness, and not ill adapted, somehow, to charming little Ruth.
"See here!" he said, taking a case from his pocket, "what a beautiful necklace. Ah! How it glitters! Ear-rings, too, and bracelets, and a zone for your waist. This set is yours, and Mary has another like it. Tom couldn't understand why I wanted two. What a short-sighted Tom! Ear-rings and bracelets, and a zone for your waist! Ah! beautiful! Let us see how brave they look. Ask Mr. Westlock to clasp them on."
It was the prettiest thing to see her holding out her round, white arm; and John (oh deep, deep John!) pretending that the bracelet was very hard to fasten; it was the prettiest thing to see her girding on the precious little zone, and yet obliged to have assistance because her fingers were in such terrible perplexity; it was the prettiest thing to
