" "Then I must wait a long time," grumbled Blueskin. He seemed to stay away from her because she was so cold and formal towards him, addressing him as Mister McCloskey as if she were an Irish maid. "That's false!" cried Mrs. Annabel, come to the door with me,” she added a little abruptly. Your name?" "Owen Wood," replied the carpenter; "I've no reason to be ashamed of it. Greece was a different place. She went about, intentlooking and self-possessed, trim and fine, concealing her emotions whatever they were, as the realities of her position opened out before her. "Poor thing!" muttered he, as the widow departed on her errand, "she's seen better days and better circumstances than she'll ever see again, I'm sure. ” “What do you mean—by too late?” he demanded. " The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action.
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