Talk to her of the new story; divert her; for this day her heart has been twisted sorely. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. Her figure was, in some measure, hidden by a large scarf, and a deep hood drawn over the head contributed to her disguise; still it was evident, from her lofty bearing, that she had nothing in common, except an interest in their proceedings, with the crew by whom she was surrounded. . She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. “Do you believe me now?” She asked. In reply to this summons a horn was instantly blown at the corner of the street.
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