Annabel! Annabel!” His voice became a shriek. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. So, step by step, and hurt by hurt, Ruth was learning that John Smith was John Smith and nobody else. Ruth, having decided a course for herself—that of renunciation—and having the strength to keep it, met these advances in precisely the mood they were offered. Old thoughts, old feelings, old faces, and old scenes have returned to me, and I have fancied myself happy,—as happy as I am now. Side by side with the cheese (its never-failing accompaniment, in all seasons, at the carpenter's board) came a tankard of swig, and a toast.
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