‘You! Have you pen and paper?’ ‘Pen and paper now, is it?’ grumbled the old man as he shuffled down the hall. At the thought of the major, her tears redoubled and she was obliged to rip off a piece from the remnants of her already maltreated underpetticoats with which to blow her nose and soak the damp from her cheeks. Anna, quitting her chair, dropped on her knees by her sister’s side and took her hand. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. Oh, yes; of Ruth herself he knew much; but the more he mulled over what he knew, the deeper grew his chagrin. However, that’s over and done with. “How CAN I tell him?” whispered Miss Stanley.
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