Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. " CHAPTER IX. But,” and he faced them both with a still expressionless glance, “this is not the end!” Anna recovered her spirits with marvellous facility. "You poor child!" Prudence took Ruth's hands in her own. Sometimes her straying mind would become astonishingly active—embroidering bright and decorative things that she could say to Capes; sometimes it passed into a state of passive acquiescence, into a radiant, formless, golden joy. Good-bye. . Hardened as he may be, that would touch him.
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