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yes, I am sure you have done all you could. It was thoughtless
in me to add to your engagements."
    "He is displeased with me," thought Ruth, "for what he believes to
have been neglect of the boy, whose life he risked his own to save.
If I told all, he would see that I could not do more; but I cannot
tell him all the sorrows and worries that have taken up my time."
    "And yet I am tempted to give you another little commission, if it is
not taking up too much of your time, and presuming too much on your
good-nature," said he, a bright idea having just struck him. "Mrs
Mason lives in Heneage Place, does not she? My mother's ancestors
lived there; and once, when the house was being repaired, she took me
in to show me the old place. There was an old hunting-piece painted
on a panel over one of the chimney-pieces; the figures were portraits
of my ancestors. I have often thought I should like to purchase it,
if it still remained there. Can you ascertain this for me, and bring
me word next Sunday?"
    "Oh, yes, sir," said Ruth, glad that this commission was completely
within her power to execute, and anxious to make up for her previous
seeming neglect. "I'll look directly I get home, and ask Mrs Mason to
write and let you know."
    "Thank you," said he, only half satisfied; "I think perhaps, however,
it might be as well not to trouble Mrs Mason about it; you see, it
would compromise me, and I am not quite determined to purchase the
picture; if you would ascertain whether the painting is there, and
tell me, I would take a little time to reflect, and afterwards I
could apply to Mrs Mason myself."
    "Very well, sir; I will see about it." So they parted.
    Before the next Sunday, Mrs Wood had taken her daughter to her
distant home, to recruit in that quiet place. Ruth watched her down
the street from an upper window, and, sighing deep and long, returned
to the workroom, whence the warning voice and the gentle wisdom had
departed.

Chapter III - Sunday at Mrs Mason's
*
    Mr Bellingham attended afternoon service at St Nicholas' church the
next Sunday. His thoughts had been far more occupied by Ruth than
hers by him, although his appearance upon the scene of her life
was more an event to her than it was to him. He was puzzled by the
impression she had produced on him, though he did not in general
analyse the nature of his feelings, but simply enjoyed them with the
delight which youth takes in experiencing new and strong emotion.
    He was old compared to Ruth, but young as a man; hardly
three-and-twenty. The fact of his being an only child had given
him, as it does to many, a sort of inequality in those parts of the
character which are usually formed by the number of years that a
person has lived.
    The unevenness of discipline to which only children are subjected;
the thwarting, resulting from over-anxiety; the indiscreet
indulgence, arising from a love centred all in one object; had been
exaggerated in his education, probably from the circumstance that his
mother (his only surviving parent) had been similarly situated to
himself.
    He was already in possession of the comparatively small property
he inherited from his father. The estate on which his mother lived
was her own; and her income gave her the means of indulging or
controlling him, after he had grown to man's estate, as her wayward
disposition and her love of power prompted her.
    Had he been double-dealing in his conduct towards her, had he
condescended to humour her in the least, her passionate love for him
would have induced her to strip herself of all her possessions to
add to his dignity or happiness. But although he felt the warmest
affection for her, the regardlessness which she had taught him (by
example, perhaps, more than by precept) of the feelings of others,
was continually prompting him to do things that she, for the time
being, resented as mortal affronts. He would mimic the clergyman she
specially esteemed, even to his very face; he would refuse to visit
her schools for months