" "No more!" cried Griffin, incredulously; "I should have thought you must have made double that sum at least. And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. That was one of the compensations for having consigned himself to this part of the world. Deserted by his older companion in iniquity, and instigator to crime, he did not know what might become of him; nor, as we have observed, was the sad spectacle he had just witnessed, without effect. "Very well, Mr. One of the shutters was a trifle damaged, letting in added light. ‘Don’t try to turn it off,’ ordered Miss Froxfield. The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet. The hills surrounded her cave home protectively. It was high afternoon, there was no great throng of footpassengers, and many an eye from omnibus and pavement rested gratefully on her fresh, trim presence as she passed young and erect, with the light of determination shining through the quiet self-possession of her face. Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck. But his grief was of short duration. She was not afraid exactly, but there was that about her loneliness to-night she distrusted. There haven't been so many ladies in the Lodge since the days of Claude Du Val, the gentleman highwayman; and they all declare it'll break their hearts if he's scragged.
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