Without an idea where he was going, Jack pursued his way through the fields; and, as he proceeded, the numbness of his limbs in some degree wore off, and his confidence returned. If the young ladies were dowerless, which seemed likely, their attire at least—so Lucilla assured him in a whisper—was of the first stare. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. " "So it seems," observed the woollen-draper, "and for every one else, too. “You told me that your name was Meysey Hill.
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