Page:Ruth of the U.S.A. (IA ruthofusa00balm).pdf/244

 Ruth stopped stark. Many Messieurs les Lieutenants and men of other ranks called at the pension for Milicent or for Ruth, just for an evening's entertainment; but such did not appear at this hour.

"He is in the salon, Mademoiselle."

Ruth went in. If it was George Byrne, at least then he was alive and now strong again. The lamp in the little salon had been lit; and a tall, uniformed figure arose from beside it.

"Hello, Cynthia," a familiar voice greeted Gerry Hull's voice!

Ruth retreated a little and held to the door to support her in her relaxation of relief. A hundred times during this terrible week, Ruth had wanted to send for him.

"I'm so glad to see you, Gerry."

"That's good." His tall, lithe self was beside her; his strong, steady fingers grasped her arm and gently supported her when she let go the door. He closed the door and led her to a chair where the light of the lamp would fall full upon her. "Sit down there," he commanded kindly; and, when she obeyed, he seated himself opposite pulling his chair closer the better to observe her but at the same time bringing himself under the light.

He had changed a great deal since last she saw him, Ruth thought. No; she corrected herself, not so much since she had parted from him after the retreat from Picardy; but he had altered greatly since last he sat opposite her in this little salon at that time they talked together about De Trevenac. The boy he had been when she first saw him on the streets of Chicago; the boy he had been when he had spoken at Mrs. Corliss', had