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 curiosity. Never again might there be such an opportunity for mutual confidences.

"Ruth dear, tell me, what is thy feeling towards John?"

"Why, didn't I tell thee in my little song? That is what I meant to do. I love him, mother."

"Has he ever spoken to thee of this?"

"No, mother, but I can read his thoughts; and oh, if I should misread them!" And Ruth drew a long breath and pressed her hands to her heart.

"Why, Ruth, what is the matter? asked her mother, much impressed by such a violent gesture.

"Was thee ever young thyself? Why does thee ask?"

"Then, dear, what will thee tell him, if he should ask thee, before thee goes away?"

"That he must go away too."

"But thy cousins in England would scarcely approve of John; he is not of thy father's rank in life, and they account such things of much importance, as I learned when thy father—"