“She does not resemble you as much as Nettie does,” said Mr. Grey to Ruth, in a whisper.
“She is like her father,” said Ruth; the “resemblance is quite startling when she is sleeping; the same breadth of forehead, the same straight nose, and full lips.
“Yes, it has often been a great solace to me,” said Ruth, after a pause, “to sit at Katy’s bedside, and aid memory by gazing at features which recalled so vividly the loved and lost;” and she kissed the little nestler.
“Nettie,” said Mr. Walter, “is Ruth 2d, in face, form and feature.”
“I wish the resemblance ended there,” whispered Ruth, with a sigh. “These rose-tinted dawns too often foreshadow the storm-cloud.”
CHAPTER LXXXII.
An hour after the conversation narrated in the last chapter, the driver stopped at a fine-looking hotel.