” “I think, Mr. After he was gone in the morning, Ruth would steal into the study and hurriedly read what he had written the previous night. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. "You needn't gag me," he added, "I'll not cry out. “I don’t think she will,” she said. We looked upon you, my dear Sir John, with reverence, almost with awe. “I have the right to be here. “Were you ever in love, aunt?” she asked.
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