It seemed to him that a sort of mist had risen up between them. . "Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone. He walked with bent head. . Again, he would ask a few questions, and Ruth would answer them. "It is", seplied Winifred; "have you brought any tidings of Thames Darrell!" "Troth have I!" replied Terence: "but, bless your angilic face, how did you contrive to guess that?" "Is he well?—is he safe?—is he coming back," cried the little girl, disregarding the question. She turned away from the doorway of the silk loom to observe.
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