She addressed Ann Veronica with an air of conveying great open secrets to her. Divers plans and figures were chalked upon the walls; and the spaces between them were filled up with an almanack for the year; a godly ballad, adorned with a rude wood-cut, purporting to be "The History of Chaste Susannah;" an old print of the Seven Golden Candlesticks; an abstract of the various Acts of Parliament against drinking, swearing, and all manner of profaneness; and a view of the interior of Doctor Daniel Burgess's Presbyterian meeting-house in Russell Court, with portraits of the reverend gentleman and the principal members of his flock. Ruth was not a woman; she was a phenomenon. “You are positively eloquent to-night—both of you,” she declared. How dare you use my name and sing my songs?” Anna looked at her sister in blank amazement.
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