" Three persons only were left in the room. ‘You give me an excellent excuse to have in the Madeira,’ said his hostess, reaching for a silver hand bell and setting it pealing. “Please don’t,” she said. "You will learn anon. ” “What did your aunt say?” “She didn’t even kiss me. At other times, it would seem that the sea itself had gone away. Ruth was not a woman; she was a phenomenon. Oh, I’ve loved love, dear! I’ve loved love and you, and the glory of you; and the great time is over, and I have to go carefully and bear children, and—take care of my hair—and when I am done with that I shall be an old woman. ’ ‘Aye, more’s the pity. I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way. Some day I may forgive you; but not now. .
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