The hymnal lyrics had never stirred her; she had memorized and sung them parrotwise. E. Hill would have followed her, but Mrs. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, after a long interval, “if they are absurd. She had never seen so much food in her life as she saw at her own wedding feast. He envied her a little. Oh, Mr Jarvis paid no mind,’ she added hastily, as if expecting disapproval. A slight rain fell at the time; and a few leaves, caught by the eddies, whirled around. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt.
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