Year: 1878

CHATTER VIII.


At last the opportunity that Mr.. Arnold
had been seeking so eagerly occurred, and
he was alone with Ruth in her grandfather
house. 1t had been a rainy, dreary day, the
wind securing over the hills and through
the narrow valley where Glenville nestled.
Some papers of importance to Mr.. Allen had
come to the care of the minister, and he,
notwithstanding the storm, took them over
to the cottage; and here he found Ruth
alone. Their greetings were constrained,
and he was go embarrassed by the story thae
he felt he now must tell, or forever hold his
peace, that ne would have left the house
instantly had it not seemed so cowardly.
For few moments they chatted pleasantly
enough about church matters, Sunday-school
affairs. music and hymns. Ruth talking with
fegerish haste, dreading above all things
moments silence. Soon the recent visit to
the city was introduced, and he began the
history OF the last eighteen months. He told
her of the meeting, the wOOing, the betroth-
al, and then the long days of separation.
He spoke of her cold letters, her dislike for
the life he had chosen, and then of the part.
ing but few days since. He did not dwell
unkindly upon any act or word, but he i'm
partially told the whole story of their court.
ship. Did 1 not do right, Miss Ruth?' he
said, as be finished. 81 could not give up
my work, and she would not come to it,"
"But, Mr.. Arnold, did you plead with her?
Did you show her tenderly how much she
could aid you, how she could cheer you with
n n
Did you, with loving remembrance, hold her
TO her promise to be yOurs?" so, Ruth!
Spare mel How could l do this when
loved not her, but your" NO" and the
word came like gasp of agony. "Yes, you
you are the only woman who can be a
wife, companion, a helpmate. Will you
be miner" The young girl sprang to her
feet, and with q quiver of indignation
jarring her sweet voice cried, "Be your wife,
Hugh Arnold. Was it for this that you left
one woman in her hour of trouble, when
wealth and friends had both been swept
away, and she had only you, and you de-
serted her? Was the cause? Then | could
go to her and on my knees beg pardon foz
my unconscious sin against her. You are
hers not mire, and you have no right to
speak, nor to hear words of love that she
alone should receive" But Ruth, she
would have had me give up the ministry;
she would not marry me unless did" Yet
by your own confession it was not your love
for The church but your indifference to her
that impeNed you to cling TO your work.
Love would have suggested scores of plans
Tf,h have ho-f to av,I
come to Glenville. But pardon me. l have
no right to intrude upon this. your purely
personal affairs" Ruth, will you not listen
10 me; / love you, 1 will do anything to
please you and make you happy il you will


My marry me. You can help me, make
me. better" "Mr. Arnold, you are forget
ting yourself and me. You must not address
me in that manner again, if you retain my
respect. Your word of honor, if not your
love, Is pledged to Miss Carlyle, and 1 can
not accept that which in honor belongs to
her" "Yet she discarded me-" "And you
deserved it'


Without an answer, with but single clasp
of the hand Mr.. Arnold left the house. For
the first time he saw his wrong, his weakness,
and mortified and sa1dened he sought some
way by which he could repair the evil he
had done. He knew not whether Margaret
yet loved him, or whether when she bade
him leave her she was Indifferent to him.
He was convinced that he had no tender re-
gard for her. but his honor upbraided him
for leaving. even though hidden, woman
when she most needed him. He deter
mined to write to her, and ask her to allow
him to serve her in any way possible, and If
she would marry him he would do all that