" "So I perceive," said Ruth, withdrawing her hands. ‘Never would he have gone to England. Gerald watched her perambulations in silence, his heart wrung. You'll be wasting his time. The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea. He found his youngest daughter intrusive in his thoughts all through the morning, and still more so in the afternoon. “For luck. She recalled how she had stretched out her arms toward the magic blue horizon. About this time,—namely, in November, 1703— while young Trenchard was in Lancashire, and his sister in London, on a visit, he received a certain communication from his confidential servant, Davies, which, at once, destroyed his hopes. She slipped out the window, jumping to the ground from the second story with very little sound. Ruth stared thoughtfully at the waiting coolies. “I wish.
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