"I beg pardon," he said. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. He—he has rather a poor opinion of his contemporaries. Gosse backed, not even attempting to parry so unorthodox a use of the foil. “There are some people,” he said at last, “who seem fated to carry on their shoulders the burdens of other people. She opened it and drew out a letter, and folded within it were the notes she had sent off to Ramage that day. She had been obliged to wait all morning for the opportunity to talk to Martha, who chose always to retire to her cell for the period of recreation that preceded afternoon prayers. ” “Miss Ellicot! That old cat!” Sydney exclaimed indignantly.
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