"This is too hard!" exclaimed Ruth despairingly. Poor girl! the only earthly brightness that had ever come to her was soon quenched in gloom, and she knew nothing of the comfort and peace which faith in the protection and love of a Heavenly Father can afford in the darkest hour. No wonder that courage and hope nearly died out of her stricken heart. The days went by, and John made no attempt to bridge the chasm between himself and Ruth. She knew he was making preparations for speedily leaving England. She also knew that whenever he returned from visiting his father's home, he was more or less the worse for drink. As usual, she stayed up for him, and kept her knowledge of his condition from her fellow-servants, though she could not hide from them that the relationship between them had changed.
"You're not treating that girl well, I believe," said cook sharply to John one day; "you'll never meet her equal again, though you may cross the seas."
"Mind your own business," angrily retorted John, following Ruth into the garden.
"Have you anything to say to me, Ruth? I'm going home to-morrow, and I expect to sail next week," he said. If his tone had been less hard, Ruth might have ventured to plead again with him, but she simply said:
"No, John, I have said all that I mean to, except that I wish you all success and happiness."
"Same to you, Ruth," dryly responded John, and turned on his heel.
