" "Bah!" ejaculated Marvel, gruffly. "Release him first—and I will disclose it!" cried Lady Trafford; "on my soul, I will!" "Speak then!" returned Rowland. He saw her eyes pass him and settle on a fleetingly pretty strawberry blond girl and her effeminate father. "What is it?" "Can't you see? Together, down there; you and I!… As my wife! Both of us, never to be lonely again!… Will you marry me, Ruth?" As many a wiser woman had done, Ruth mistook thrilling eagerness for love. With a view to raise recruits for his corps, the warlike woollen-draper started for Lancashire, under the colour of a journey on business. ‘I do not command your services, mon major.
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