’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Miss Froxfield frostily. “Dear me! I wonder what I ought to do. A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it. He was well mounted, as was his companion; and had pistols in his holsters, and a hanger at his girdle. At the cost of quite a number of torn drafts she succeeded in evolving this: “DEAR MR.
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