CHAPTER XV.
Mother and Child "Here is a parcel for you, Ruth!" said Miss Benson on the Tuesday morning.
"For me!" said Ruth, all sorts of rushing thoughts and hopes filling her mind, and turning her dizzy with expectation.

If it had been from "him," the new-born resolutions would have had a hard struggle for existence.
"It is directed 'Mrs Denbigh,'" said Miss Benson, before giving it up.

"It is in Mrs Bradshaw's handwriting;" and, far more curious than Ruth, she awaited the untying of the close-knotted string.
When the paper was opened, it displayed a whole piece of delicate cambric-muslin; and there was a short note from Mrs Bradshaw to Ruth, saying her husband had wished her to send this muslin in aid of any preparations Mrs Denbigh might have to make.

Ruth said nothing, but coloured up, and sat down again to her employment.
"Very fine muslin indeed," said Miss Benson, feeling it, and holding it up against the light, with the air of a connoisseur; yet all the time she was glancing at Ruth's grave face.

The latter kept silence, and showed no wish to inspect her present further.