The doleful procession at once assumed a festive character. "Good-bye!" For a moment Ruth was tempted to fling herself against the withered bosom; but long since she had learned repression. . The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. “I’m glad you’re all right,” he said, “because we want you to do us a favour. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. She wanted his attention, but so did everyone else. The boy had all kinds of opportunity; but it's the old story of father making it too easy.
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