K-kimble, sir,’ stammered the lad. He had let go his name so easily as that! What was the name she had given? Ruth something; he could not remember. As Leonardo had himself pronounced, who better than a mountebank to teach of the perils awaiting the unwary? Who better than a wastrel to demonstrate the worth of thrift? And who could instruct better in the matter of affections than one who had thrown them away? ‘If he had loved me,’ she said, in the flat tone she had learned to use to conceal her vulnerable heart, ‘he would have left me at Remenham House to live a life of an English lady. I want to love him. " Ten minutes' walk brought them to the hotel. The reply he received this time put him into a state of continuous bewilderment. “Those young men startled me at first, because they knew my name. " At the mention of the latter occurrence, a dark cloud gathered upon the stranger's brow.
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