"Ruth!" She had gone to the door, aimlessly, without purpose. Spurlock sat limply, his arms hanging. He fell back upon the pillows with a little moan, clutching the slim white fingers fiercely. . “Heavens, look at the time!” she exclaimed. And it’s like the petals falling from a flower. “And children must we women bear— “Oh, damn!” she cried, as the hundred-and-first couplet or so presented itself in her unwilling brain. Then he had gone away. She never knew what became of her farmer after that. Her first impulse was to fly to the window; and she was about to pass through it, at the risk of sharing the fate of the unfortunate lady, when her arm was grasped by some one in the act of ascending the ladder from without. "You're not hurt I hope, Sir Rowland?" inquired this individual.
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