In the presence of the husband of his mistress Rollo was always dignifiedly cheerful, but he never leaped or cavorted as he did when alone with Ruth. At the eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with the steps lowered. “You ARE a female thing at bottom,” he admitted. He was all alone, like herself. As though accidentally she swept her skirts from a chair close drawn to her own. A new restlessness seemed to have stolen in upon her. " "They're lifting her out of the carriage," interposed Charcam; "will it please your honour to send for some advice and the chaplain?" "Fly for both," returned Sir Rowland, in a tone of bitter anguish. Melusine did not attempt to speak. But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion.
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