She forgot Anna’s sacrifices, forgot her own callousness, forgot the burden which she had fastened upon her sister’s shoulders. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. I must go somewhere into hiding, a long, long way off. I’ve never muffed an exam yet. Her father was right: Ruth must never know. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. He upset some one —probably Mr. Wood glanced at the hardy offender, and not liking the expression of his countenance, thought it advisable to postpone the execution of his threats to a more favourable opportunity. It wasn’t clear to me that I had to explain. They have retired. Wood,—"he'll never mend. "Tush!" exclaimed Sir Rowland, angrily.
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