He paused for a moment, hoping to be able to lower the
"Why art thou so vexed, O my soul: and why art thou so disquieted within me?
"O put thy trust in God: for I will yet thank him, which is the help of my countenance, and my God."
And when he had finished he shut the book, and sighed with the satisfaction of having done his duty. The words of holy trust, though, perhaps, they were not fully understood, carried a faithful peace down into the depths of his soul. As he looked up, he saw the young couple standing in the middle of the floor. He pushed his iron-rimmed spectacles. on to his forehead, and rose to greet the daughter of his old master and ever-honoured mistress.
"God bless thee, lass! God bless thee! My old eyes are glad to see thee again."
Ruth sprang forward to shake the horny hand stretched forward in the action of blessing. She pressed it between both of hers, as she rapidly poured out questions. Mr. Bellingham was not altogether comfortable at seeing one whom he had already begun to appropriate as his own, so tenderly familiar with a hard-featured, meanly-dressed day-labourer. He sauntered to the window, and looked out into the grass-grown farmyard; but he could not help overhearing some of the conversation, which seemed to him carried on too much in the tone of equality. "And who's yon?" asked the old labourer at last. "Is he your sweetheart? Your missis's son, I reckon. He's a spruce young chap, anyhow."
Mr. Bellingham's "blood of all the Howards" rose and tingled about his ears, so that he could not hear Ruth's answer. It began by "Hush, Thomas; pray hush!" but how it went on he did not catch. The idea of his being Mrs. Mason's son! It was really too ridiculous; but, like most things which are "too ridiculous," it made him very angry. He was hardly himself again when Ruth shyly came to the window-recess and asked him if he would like to see the house-place, into which the front-door entered; many people thought it very pretty, she said, half-timidly, for his face had unconsciously assumed a hard and haughty expression, which he could not instantly soften down. He followed her, however; but before he left the kitchen he saw the old man standing, looking at Ruth's companion with a strange, grave air of dissatisfaction.
They went along one or two zig-zag damp-smelling stone passages, and then entered the house-place, or common sitting-room for a farmer's family in that part of the country. The front door opened into it, and several other apartments issued out of it, such as the dairy, the state bedroom (which was half-parlour as well), and a small room which had been appropriated to the late Mrs. Hilton, where she sat, or more frequently lay, commanding through the open door the comings and goings of her household. In those days the house-place had been a cheerful room, full of life, with the passing to and fro of husband, child, and servants; with a great merry wood-fire crackling and blazing away every evening, and hardly let out in the very heat of summer; for with the thick stone walls, and the deep window-seats, and the drapery of vine-leaves and ivy, that room, with its flag-floor, seemed always to want the sparkle and cheery warmth of a fire. But now the green shadows from without seemed to have become black in the uninhabited desolation. The oaken shovel-board, the heavy dresser, and the carved cupboards, were now dull and damp, which were formerly polished up to the brightness of a looking-glass where the fire-blaze was for ever glinting; they only added to. the oppressive gloom; the flag-floor was wet with heavy moisture. Ruth stood gazing into the room, seeing nothing of what was present. She saw a vision of former days--an evening in the days of her childhood; her father sitting in the "master's corner" near the fire, sedately smoking his pipe, while he dreamily watched his wife and child; her mother reading to her, as she sat on a little stool at her feet. It was gone--all gone into the land of shadows; but for the moment it seemed so present in the old room, that Ruth believed her actual life to be the dream. Then, 'still silent, she went on into her mother's parlour. But there, the bleak look of what had once been full of peace and mother's love, struck cold on her heart. She uttered a cry, and threw herself down by the sofa, hiding her face in her hands, while her frame quivered with her repressed sobs.
"Dearest Ruth, don't give way so. It can do no good; it cannot bring back the dead," said Mr. Bellingham, distressed at witnessing her distress.
- to sleep, rose and wandered out into the garden. The Hon.
- The whore cried out in distress. They will blame her for
- pot. There was none to be found. His stomach heaved, and
- and the children of the forest had carved into the weirwoods
- indigo came next in value; then capsicum, old clothes,
- … and you now. You know the foe we face. You know what’s
- you safe from harm wherever you may go. My place is by
- long face as at Selhorys, when he returned to the Shy Maid
- Behind a great flowering shrub Hanson lay gazing at the
- indicated by the tears tattooed beneath their right eyes.
- Wed Hizdahr zo Loraq and make a son with him, a son whose
- What is this prince to her? Was she ever a true septa?
- then directed the ray of the little lamp toward the further
- tucked into high boots of purple leather, a white silk
- than two. And you know how Qavo is about his cyvasse.”
- remain on the Shy Maid instead of going ashore with Yandry
- was the especial pride and joy of My Dear and Meriem. The
- his throat. “I would not do that if I were you. It is
- strangers to their chains can scarcely abandon her own
- Greyguard. I mean to open three more forts as well.”
- December 1st. — We steered for the island of Lemuy. I
- The Halfmaester laughed. “I will wait for you in the
- might cry. The Shavepate has a harder heart than mine.
- Above all, trust not the cheesemonger, nor the Spider,
- our tents. They were very civil, and offered us a house;
- that had gathered around the flames. Elsewhere, travelers
- proud of their tiger stripes, Tyrion knew. Do they yearn
- flights of fire arrows at their sails and flung pots of
- she had come to believe, since otherwise he would have
- loitered about Robert’s court swilling the king’s finest
- Sigorn’s father, the old Magnar, had been crushed beneath
- Hizdahr took her by the shoulders as tenderly as if she
- and not Spaniards and that they were in sad want of tobacco
- I ask you? The slinger can put a stone through a gnat’s
- “No more than he knew that the Beggar King would die
- “The red priests would be wise to hold their tongues,”
- Max crossed the threshold hard upon her heels. Three descending
- vintages and setting his sword on fire for mêlées. “Give
- “The choice is yours,” Jon Snow told them. “Those
- The big man glowered at the board, then rose and growled
- and the girl's mind was in such a turmoil that she had
- woman all in green surrounded by the little girls robed
- bridge that spanned its flow. “Twice as much trouble,”
- The girl was the first to come forward. “I can fight.
- than the manners of these people. They generally began
- and the children of the forest had carved into the weirwoods
- the nightly slaughter in my streets. I say do it. Put an
- He nodded. “I am sworn to serve Your Grace, and to keep
- the sailors bought with a stick of tobacco, of the value
- on the flesh of newborn babes, an oathbreaker who mocks