Ralph smiled broadly.
"What has become of Miss Dorothy is not quite clear. Some people say that Sir John has sent her to a convent school in France. Others say that she has gone off of her own free will, and taken a situation as a governess under an assumed name."
"Are you sure she isn't at the Manor?" he questioned eagerly.
"Quite sure. The servants talk very freely about it. Sir John stormed and swore, and threatened all manner of things, but she held her own. He shouted so loudly sometimes that they could not help hearing what he said. Miss Dorothy was very calm, but very determined. He taunted her with being in love with somebody else——"
"No!"
"She must have had a very hard time of it by what the servants say. It is to be hoped she has peace now she has got away."
"Sir John is a brute," Ralph said bitterly. "He has no mercy on anybody, not even on his own flesh and blood."
"Isn't it always true that 'with what measure ye mete it shall be measured to you again'?" Ruth questioned, looking up into his face.
"It may be," he answered, "and yet many people suffer injustice who have never meted it out to others."
For a while silence fell between them, then looking up into his face she said—