The almost boyish face, with its loving eyes and laughing mouth, was still twenty-four years old; and with a look of pride and affection the Squire lifted the picture and placed it in the hands of the Tyrrel Rawdon of the day.
The hanging of the picture in its old place was a silent and tender little ceremony, and after it the party separated.

Mrs.Rawdon went with Ruth to rest a little.

She said "she had a headache," and she also wanted a good womanly talk over the affair.

The Squire, Judge Rawdon, Mr.Nicholas Rawdon, and John Thomas returned to the dining-room to drink a bottle of such mild Madeira as can only now be found in the cellars of old county magnates, and Ethel and Tyrrel Rawdon strolled into the garden.

There had not been in either mind any intention of leaving the party, but as they passed through the hall Tyrrel saw Ethel's garden hat and white parasol lying on a table, and, impelled by some sudden and unreasoned instinct, he offered them to her.