They turned off at Glen Grove, a sleepy town of less than two hundred. " CHAPTER XIII. A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it. But of what use to wear it when there was no one of importance to see and admire? ‘For shame, Melusine,’ protested Lucy, as the butler bowed himself out of the room. 3. “Not home yet, miss,” the young man replied. On the same peg and evidently belonging to it was a black velvet Zouave jacket. She’s very special. Only a son’s another story.
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