Ruth looked up in amazement.
"I know, I know your father is ill, but that should keep you in-doors."
"Godmother, I do not understand. How is it possible?"
"It is not possible for you to meet him in out-of-the-way places without casting your good name in the teeth of every gossip in the village. Nay, I have my doubts if the young man has not helped it on, else, how did that brazen-faced maid at the inn know about it, and taunt him with it before a half-score of drinkers?"
The eyes of Ruth Jessup grew large with wonder.
"Among drinkers! He at the public inn! Godmother, of whom are you speaking?"
"Who should I speak of, but the young man himself, Richard Storms?"
As a cloud sometimes sweeps suddenly from the blue sky, the shame and the fear left that young girl's face.
"Oh, godmother, were you only speaking of him?"
"Who else should I be speaking of, Ruth? As if his name and yours were not in every one's mouth, from the highest to the lowest."