“Quite an unimportant one,” he assured her. Spurlock sat limply, his arms hanging. Shortly afterwards,—it seemed an age to the anxious mother,—Mr. ‘Who’s this, then? Not soldiers again. She got up early, and walked about the garden in the dewy June sunshine and revived her childhood. A world of haystacks, bean-stacks, and strawricks flanked the granges adjoining his habitation; the yard was crowded with poultry, pigeons were feeding at his feet, cattle were being driven towards the stall, horses led to the stable, a large mastiff was rattling his chain, and stalking majestically in front of his kennel, while a number of farming-men were passing and repassing about their various occupations. “I must go. Ruth was at that stage where the absorption of facts is great, but where the mental digestion is not quite equal to the task. “And I’m not happy.
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