“Not home yet, miss,” the young man replied. 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. It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest. Looking at this girl, a sense of failure swept over him. Be off!" "Jack!" exclaimed his unhappy parent. "Ah! what is that?" he cried, pointing to a dark object floating near them amid the boiling waves, and which presented a frightful resemblance to a human face. Darrell's eyes were of that clear gray which it is difficult to distinguish from blue by day and black at night; and his rich brown hair, which he could not consent to part with, even on the promise of a new and modish peruke from his adoptive father, fell in thick glossy ringlets upon his shoulders; whereas Jack's close black crop imparted the peculiar bullet-shape we have noticed, to his head. Curiosity to see what a sing-song girl was like took possession of Ruth's thoughts. He began really to like Spurlock, despite the shadow of the boy's past, despite his inexplicable attitude toward this glorious girl.
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