We had such a pride in you, such hope in you. "Why were you afraid to show me this picture, Winny?" asked the youth. " The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action. Critically, she stared at her own features. Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for. Her whole conduct and tone had been modest and ladylike. But all of that was forgotten. It is not the woman who speaks there.
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