” Then it was her father issued his ultimatum. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. ” He returned to and developed that idea. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. Young and old were dressed in their gayest apparel; and it was evident from the smiles that lighted up every countenance, from the roguish looks of the younger swains, and the demure expression of several pretty rustic maidens, that a ceremony, which never fails to interest all classes,—a wedding,—was about to take place.
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