“Time for my Patience,” she said. "You mistake,—you are mine. I've seen him often do it. When the hero finally did appear, Ruth became filled with gentle self-mockery. . He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. “You did a great job on my concerto today. Poor fellow! he sometimes indulges the hope of marrying you, when he grows old enough. “I love you, you know. "I beg your pardon," he cried; "but really—ha! ha!—you must excuse me!—that is so uncommonly diverting—ha! ha! Do let me hear it again?—ha! ha! ha!" "Upon my word," rejoined Wood, "you seem vastly entertained by my misfortunes. “What do you think of that?” he asked. "They have ever since been deposited in a place of safety. She hid behind a mirage of piety, just as I do. “My wife. "Something more than whisky did that.
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