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I next proceeded to Jenny Bunch's, the Ship, in Trig Lane—there I got the same answer. I have no intention of arresting you. This was not exactly what the woollen-draper desired. To be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first time she was made painfully conscious of it. So these two young philosophers got along very well that day; and the succeeding days. Crossing several fields, newly mown, or filled with lines of tedded hay, she arrived, not without great exertion, at the summit of a hill. "You frighten the cull out of his senses. Better come another morning. Love—admiration for your matchless beauty alone sways me. His brows drew a little nearer together.

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