Old farmhouses loomed as they whizzed by, left behind in the gray like mourners. " "You are the kindest man I have ever known," said Ruth, unashamed of her tears. I would not have him know—now—for the world. I do not want to get only a second-hand flavour of life. Mr. Kneebone's man is in the shop," said Rachel; "he'll take it. He did not stagger in the least. For you know that I have made up my mind to dig a little way into life single-handed. I guess those books are okay because they are fiction. Why was she noting things like this? Capes seemed selfpossessed and elaborately genial and commonplace, but she knew him to be nervous by a little occasional clumsiness, by the faintest shadow of vulgarity in the urgency of his hospitality. There stood John and Mr.
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