any idea where his friends live, Mrs. Morgan?"

"Indeed and I have. His mother, as haughty a lady as you would
wish to see, came travelling through Wales last year; she stopped
here, and, I warrant you, nothing was good enough for her; she
was real quality. She left some clothes and hooks behind her (for
the maid was almost as fine as the mistress, and little thought
of seeing after her lady's clothes, having a taste for going to
see scenery along with the man-servant), and we had several
letters from her. I have them locked in the drawers in the bar,
where I keep such things."

"Well, I should recommend your writing to the lady, and telling
her her son's state."

"It would be a favour, Mr. Jones, if you would just write it
yourself. English writing comes so strange to my pen."

The letter was written, and, in order to save time, Mr. Jones
took it to the Llanglas post-office.


CHAPTER VII


THE CRISIS---WATCHING AND WAITING

Ruth put away every thought of the past or future; everything
that could unfit her for the duties of the present. Exceeding
love supplied the place of experience. She never left the room