A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it. “And think, think”—her voice sank —“of the horrible coarseness!” “What coarseness?” said Ann Veronica. Why should I?” “At last,” he murmured, “at last I have found you. "At present under the care of his preserver—one Owen Wood, a carpenter, by whom he was brought up. Cool and sunny, it seemed that God himself smiled upon that day, the sunbeams streaming through the magnificent arches dustily as the priest murmured in soporific Latin. Sheppard," said Wood in a soothing tone.
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