But not once in these ten years had they borne blossom or fruit. "That was the lad's name," returned the stranger. When I think of the love you give me—One ought to give you back love. "How have you contrived to still these troubled waters?" "I've chanced upon an old ally in the Master of the Mint," answered Rowland. His grief was so audible, that it attracted the notice of some of the bystanders, and Thames was obliged to beg him to control it. “You will pardon me, sir,” he said in a subdued tone, “but I think that you have forgotten to look at your engagement book. To be free of outward distraction, he shut his eyes and concentrated upon the scraps she had given him; and shortly, with his eyes still closed, he began to describe Ruth's island: the mountain at one end, with the ever-recurring scarves of mist drifting across the lava-scarred face; the jungle at the foot of it; the dazzling border of white sand; the sprawling store of the trader and the rotting wharf, sundrily patched with drift-wood; the native huts on the sandy floor of the palm groves; the scattered sandalwood and ebony; the screaming parakeets in the plantains; the fishing proas; the mission with its white washed walls and barren frontage; the lagoon, fringed with coco palms, now ruffled emerald, now placid sapphire. Neither their mother nor Sebastian noticed, as certain members of the house had taken to avoiding each other. “I think that’s the right name. He is delightful, is he not?’ ‘That will do, Lucilla.
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