“Tom, Tom, you will lie in a bloody grave, I fear,” sighed Madam Ridd. “But better men than you have done that.”
And they all knew she was thinking of her husband, killed by the Doones. And Rose, who sat beside her, laid her warm hand lovingly on the widow’s. She smiled at the caress ... Rose smiled back.... And suddenly felt a sort of blurr.... She clutched Mistress Ridd’s hand more firmly. There was a moment of darkness....
And there they were, she and Ruth, back home, quite cosy in the settle by the fire.
CHAPTER VIII
Little Maid Marian
Rose was carolling gaily:
“Under the greenwood tree,
Who loves to lie with me,
And tune his merry note
Unto the sweet bird’s throat—
Come hither, come hither, come hither,