I suppose this is what she learns in her infernal London colleges. I heard from David about you only this morning. That is why I have dyed my hair, that is why I have abandoned my rôle of ingenuèe and altered my whole style of dress. “Alone, dear?” “Yes, aunt. "Can you not love him?" "Love him!" echoed the widow. I dared not sing, I dared not laugh, except when you went away. Perhaps that other boy who visited you backstage at the concert. How little he knew about Ruth—the background from which she had sprung! He knew that her father was a missioner, that her mother was dead, that she had been born on this island, and that, at the time of his collapse, she had been on the way to an aunt in the States.
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