He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment. It was a habit of his to talk to himself. “Just come to that seat now you are here, Miss Stanley, and look down the other path; there’s a vista of just the common sort. Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house. ‘It is what my father intended. He proceeded to the deck, where Ruth and McClintock were waiting for him by the ladder. " "I wish you did have some faults, Ruth. "'Sdeath!" cried Hogarth, aside to the poet.
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