“See you to-night, I suppose?” He sauntered off. "I will live," cried Blueskin, with a look of the deadliest hatred at Wild, "to be revenged on you. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. To have spoken lightly on such a subject a few hours ago would have seemed incredible. —'How so?' says I. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. She was supposed to be reading at home, and after breakfast she strolled into the vegetable garden, and having taken up a position upon the staging of a disused greenhouse that had the double advantage of being hidden from the windows of the house and secure from the sudden appearance of any one, she resumed the reading of Mr.
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