” She glanced shyly at the mirror above her dressing-table, and then about her at the furniture, as though it might penetrate to the thoughts that peeped in her mind. Each wing had a small cupola; and, in the centre of the pile rose a larger dome, surmounted by a gilded ball and vane. There was no rush. They were the same. A dozen shynesses and intellectual barriers were being outflanked or broken down in her mind. Living, he knew that he would never send that letter. ’ ‘Then they are soldiers. “Good-bye,” he said earnestly. "You are an angel," she cried, with a look beaming with delight. " He passed it over; and Ruth read: To be opened in case of my death and the letter inside forwarded to the address thereon. The angels in Heaven shall not tear you from me.
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