" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. “What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. He had let go his name so easily as that! What was the name she had given? Ruth something; he could not remember. "But calm yourself, dear sister, or the interview will be too much for you. ‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise. Mr. Mrs.
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