" The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action. Every one looked at Anna. When she occupied, it, it was neatness itself; the little porch was overrun with creepers—the garden trim and exquisitely kept. Further on, there was a small chandler's shop, where Jack observed an old woman seated at the counter, attended by a little girl. . "It's wretched enough, indeed, Sir," rejoined the widow; "but, poor as it is, it's better than the cold stones and open streets. Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in it. . But you——” Something seemed to catch his breath. Once in the room, the door locked, the sense of loneliness had dropped away from her as the mists used to drop away from the mountain in the morning. The man himself was not a pleasant object.
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