"Answer me, child."
He spoke very gently, so gently that she could not help answering.
"Yes," she said, in a soft whisper. "He loves me."
"And you?"
Ruth lifted her pleading eyes to his—those great, innocent eyes, and answered, humbly, "How could I help it?"
"How long is this since, Ruth?"
"I don't know. It seems to me always; but he knows best."
"But, my poor child, how do you expect this to end?"
"It is ended! oh, it is ended! I wish you would tell him so, Sir Noel. I must never, never see him again."
Ruth threw both arms over the end of the sofa, and, burying her face upon them, broke into a wild passion of sobs.