You will torture yourself and torture her all through life; but in the end she will pour the wine of her faith into a sound chalice. " "What shall I do?" cried Mrs. Sorry I’m a bit late the first evening. A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it. She broke a cobblestone over his head and he was out.
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