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. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. As usual Brendon lit the candles, and Sydney dragged out the spiritlamp and set it going. “For my own part I have come fully now into my inheritance. ’ She sighed relief to see a faint grin as he ventured to raise his head. She flew to the door, but returned the next minute, looking deeply disappointed, and bringing the intelligence that it was "only Mrs. Mr.
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