Her hair was gathered up behind, in a sort of pad, according to the then prevailing mode; and she wore a muslin cap, and pinners with crow-foot edging. It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. The picturesque scoundrel had the true gift; and Spurlock was filled with pity at the thought of such genius gone to pot. Even after this woman had gone, it seemed to Ruth that the room was kindlier than it had ever been. Tears sprang to her eyes. Jack, meanwhile, heard, the shouts, and, though alarmed by them, held on a steady course. "Well, I'm glad she's spared this. "Sir Rowland is your uncle—he will be your guardian—he will protect you.
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