of inquiry, and her father's relatives persistently urged Mrs. Barrett
to send the child to them for a visit. At last she took Ruth and went;
she would not trust her out of her sight. She was a pale, pretty,
gentle-looking woman, with a will of iron. It was to Judge Barrett's
sister, Mrs. Stanton, in a neighboring town, that they came. They were
afraid to mention his name, or hint at a possible reconciliation; but
they managed to make the young Ruth very much in love with her new
aunt, and merry, pretty cousins.

Meanwhile her father had gone from bad to worse, a confirmed drunkard,
though rarely too far gone to make an eloquent stump-speech when
occasion required. So popular was he that he had the sympathy of the
community in his domestic estrangement. Some said his wife was too hard
and unforgiving; all agreed that he should have been permitted to see
his child.

Ruth was seventeen years old and had long since exerted her filial
influence to the extent of going to her aunt, Mrs. Stanton, whenever
she wished. She had come to be quite a sensation in her father's native
village, his hosts of friends readily tracing a likeness to himself. She
was a sweet, rather wilful maiden, not exactly pretty, but very refined
and attractive.

Judge Barrett had always found a bed at his sister's, no matter at
what hour of day or night he chose to stagger in; but the large family
combined efforts to prevent the contretemps of a meeting between him and
Ruth. Their promise to her mother was too sacred for trifling, and they
loved the girl too well to risk being deprived of her society. Destiny,
or chance, was too strong for them. It was on a bright, sunlit day, when
Ruth was in an animated discussion with her cousin Roger upon the merits