Admire her as much as you choose—at a distance. He had been gone entirely one day, for yesterday afternoon he had departed from Remenham House, and she had waited with patience like a saint, and now it was again the afternoon. The real Ruth was as completely hidden as though she stood behind the walls of Agra Fort. Sulphurous poisons assaulted her nostrils as she threw the stone to one side of its resting place. She forgot her vital hatred of the South Seas; she forgot that McClintock's would not differ a jot from the old island she had for ever left behind her; she forgot all the doctor's lessons and warnings. “Did you see who that was?” he asked in a low tone. It was among artistic people. He knew she had been weeping. Who but you would have dreamed of giving the boy such a name? Why, it's the name of a river, not a Christian. But at length, there was a click, and with a swish, the panel of painted books swung outward from the wall. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead.
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