" The woollen-draper replied by gallantly handing her the box, which was instantly snatched from her by Blueskin, who, after helping himself to as much of its contents as he could conveniently squeeze between his thumb and finger, put it very coolly in his pocket. Her father was right: Ruth must never know. On reaching the churchyard, he perceived the melancholy procession descending the hill. He thrust out a rhetorical hand. “But you’re wrong. She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with commonsense, his own apprehension. A nine days’ wonder is soon forgotten. "He is dying?" whispered Ruth. Lucy was sent reeling into a stone wall, which she hit with a great thud. The party, then, sat down to a bowl of punch; and, at its conclusion, Captain Kneebone regretted that an engagement to spend the evening with Mrs. ‘It is seldom enough I am visited by anyone at all, let alone a personable young redcoat.
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