Conscious of Mrs. She receded into the entryway, opening her palm and gesturing as if there were an imaginary red carpet rolled out for visitors. "Mercy on us!" cried he, as a thrill of apprehension ran through his frame. He knew that at this moment Ruth lay upon her bed in torment, for she was by nature tender; and the reaction of her scathing words, no matter how justifiable, would be putting scars on her soul. The action steadied him; and there was a phase of irony, too, that helped. We shall have a reg'lar squall afore we gets across. ‘It is all too probable that she would wish to change into lay clothing to escape recognition.
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