“I expected you this morning,” he said. “No, I’d like to. But Ruth was his woman, and he had sworn to God to defend her. "No, Rollo; not this afternoon. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage. It was now a quarter past twelve. Besides," added he, opening the shawl in which the infant was wrapped, and throwing the light of the candle full upon its sickly, but placid features, "it's sinful to repine while you've a child like this to comfort you. I've seen many cases like it. " "Are you a nurse?" "Yes.
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