They were standing at the door, where some one was holding Mr. Bellingham’s horse.  Ruth was looking at him with her earnest eyes (Mrs. Mason and her errands quite forgotten in the interest of the afternoon’s event), her whole thoughts bent upon rightly understanding and following out his wishes for the little boy’s welfare; and until now this had been the first object in his own mind.  But at this moment the strong perception of Ruth’s exceeding beauty came again upon him.  He almost lost the sense of what he was saying, he was so startled with admiration.  The night before, he had not seen her eyes; and now they looked straight and innocently full at him, grave, earnest, and deep.  But when she instinctively read the change in the expression of his countenance, she dropped her large white veiling lids; and he thought her face was lovelier still.  The irresistible impulse seized him to arrange matters, so that he might see her again before long.

“No!” said he.  “I see it would he better that you should keep the purse.  Many things may be wanted for the lad which we cannot calculate upon now.  If I remember rightly, there are three sovereigns and some loose change; I shall, perhaps, see you again in a few days, when, if there he any money left in the purse, you can restore it to me.”

“Oh, yes, sir,” said Ruth, alive to the magnitude of the wants to which she might have to administer, and yet rather afraid of the responsibility implied in the possession of so much money.

“Is there any chance of my meeting you again in this house?” asked he.

“I hope to come whenever I can, sir; but I must run in errand-times, and I don’t know when my turn may be.”

“Oh”—­he did not fully understand this answer—­“I should like to know how you think the boy is going on, if it is not giving you too much trouble; do you ever take walks?”

“Not for walking’s sake, sir.”

“Well,” said he, “you go to church, I suppose?  Mrs. Mason does not keep you at work on Sundays; I trust?”

“Oh, no, sir.  I go to church regularly.”

“Then, perhaps, you will be so good as to tell me what church you go to, and I will meet you there next Sunday afternoon?”

“I go to St. Nicholas’, sir.  I will take care and bring you word how the boy is, and what doctor they get; and I will keep an account of the money I spend.”

“Very well, thank you.  Remember, I trust to you.”

He meant that he relied on her promise to meet him; but Ruth thought that he was referring to the responsibility of doing the best she could for the child.  He was going away, when a fresh thought struck him, and he turned back into the cottage once more, and addressed Ruth, with a half smile on his countenance——­

“It seems rather strange, but we have no one to introduce us; my name is Bellingham—­yours is”—­

“Ruth Hilton, sir,” she answered, in a low voice, for, now that the conversation no longer related to the boy, she felt shy and restrained.