‘My dear sir,’ answered Gurth gaily, ‘if I have your consent, that is all I ask at present. I by no means wish you to advocate my cause with the young lady, or to say anything to her about this interview. I merely wish to know, before I urge my suit with her, that I have your free consent to do so. I don’t want to come here sailing under false colours.’
Mr. Adrian was charmed with his visitor’s frankness, and let him go away assured that, though he would in no way attempt to influence Ruth in her choice of a husband, he should only be too glad if it fell upon so prosperous and agreeable a gentleman as Gurth Egerton.
For some little time after Gurth’s departure, Mr. Adrian sat wrapt in thought. It would be a splendid match for Ruth, and he felt it was time she was settled in life. Mrs. Adrian, he knew, would offer no opposition—in fact, over and over again she had urged him to do all in his power to foster such a match. There was nothing in the way of its accomplishment but Rath herself.
I wonder,’ said Mr. Adrian, ‘if she has quite got over that old business with Ned Marston! Sometimes I fancy there is a soft spot in her heart for him still.’
Could Mr. Adrian have seen Ruth, as she sat in in her own room that afternoon, he would have had grave doubts as to the success of Gurth Egerton’s wooing.
Ruth was amusing herself for a moment or two at her writing-desk, and scribbling, as young ladies will sometimes when their thoughts are wandering, on a piece of blotting-paper.
She was writing her name over and over again:
‘Ruth Adrian
‘Ruth Adrian.’
She scribbled it half-a-dozen times, and then her pen, perhaps obedient to her thought, paused at the ‘Ruth’ and wrote a fresh name after it.