Only she hadn’t. ’ ‘Then what?’ demanded Lucilla in a hushed tone. " "There isn't an angel in heaven, Ruth, purer or sweeter than you are. Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. The country was partitioned in a similar manner. “Endless. "Jack Sheppard," returned the boy, fixing his eyes upon a portrait of the Earl of Mar. What marriage really meant (aside from the idea of escape), Ruth had not the least conception, no more than a child. She was curious, and at the same time clearly resolved she must not hear it. The idea of leaving for Mexico had become unbearable, as he was so easy to like and perhaps even easier to love. “There is something to be said for the lady-like theory after all,” she admitted. .
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