Ruth lifted her face with sudden interest.
"I will see that you are cared for. Only this my son must never know."
"He must never know," repeated the poor girl. "Only, if I should be dying, would there be danger then? Only when I am dying?"
"We will not think of that, Ruth."
"No. I dare not. It tempts one so; but the good God will not be so cruel as to let me live."
Sir Noel was surprised at this broken-hearted submission. He had come to the cottage prepared for resistance, perhaps rebellion, but not for this. No doubt of the girl's innocence, or of his son's honor, disturbed him now. But this only made his task the more difficult. She must be removed from the neighborhood. The honor of his house—the future of his son demanded it.
"I will go now, Ruth," he said, with great kindness; "but, remember, you will never want a comfort or a friend while I live. In a few days I will settle on some safe and pleasant home for you."
Ruth did not seem to hear him, though she was looking steadily in his face; but when he dropped her hand, she said, piteously, "You will tell him—you will let him know that it was for his sake?"
"After you are gone, he shall know everything, except where to find you."
Ruth sunk back on her seat, bowed her face drearily, and thus Sir Noel left her.