The yellow jessamine, that was then a tender plant, had now taken firm root in the soil, and was sending out strong shoots; the wall-flowers, which Miss Benson had sown on the wall a day or two after her arrival, were scenting the air with their fragrant flowers.

Ruth knew every plant now; it seemed as though she had always lived here, and always known the inhabitants of the house.

She heard Sally singing her accustomed song in the kitchen, a song she never varied over her afternoon's work.

It began, As I was going to Derby, sir, Upon a market-day.
And if music is a necessary element in a song, perhaps I had better call it by some other name.
But the strange change was in Ruth herself.

She was conscious of it though she could not define it, and did not dwell upon it.