Here they would be having lunch. Yesterday this glorious creature had loved him; to-day she was only friendly. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. ” “Please tell me why?” she asked. “I do not know. "Ay, indeed! And who may that be?" inquired his wife. She felt as if she had struck them unawares. “Too bad to keep you waiting,” Annabel exclaimed. I was—I was a corespondent. I myself have had the pleasure of dining with her. ‘But it is idiot. His own heart was too full of melancholy foreboding. Perhaps it was the recollection of those happy days.
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