“I always thought it was the wind.  What is it?” asked Ruth innocently.

“Oh, the Welsh tell you that this flower is sacred to the fairies, and that it has the power of recognising them, and all spiritual beings who pass by, and that it bows in deference to them as they waft along.  Its Welsh name is Maneg Ellyllyn—­the good people’s glove; and hence, I imagine, our folk’s-glove or fox-glove.”

“It’s a very pretty fancy,” said Ruth, much interested, and wishing that he would go on, without expecting her to reply.  But they were already at the wooden bridge; he led her across, and then, bowing his adieu, he had taken a different path even before Ruth had thanked him for his attention.

It was an adventure to tell Mr. Bellingham, however; and it aroused and amused him till dinner-time came, after which he sauntered forth with a cigar.

“Ruth,” said he, when he returned, “I’ve seen your little hunchback.  He looks like Riquet-with-the-Tuft.  He’s not a gentleman, though.  If it had not been for his deformity, I should not have made him out from your description; you called him a gentleman.”

“And don’t you?” asked Ruth, surprised.

“Oh, no! he’s regularly shabby and seedy in his appearance; lodging, too, the ostler told me, over that horrible candle-and-cheese shop, the smell of which is insufferable twenty yards off—­no gentleman could endure it; he must be a traveller or artist, or something of that kind.”

“Did you see his face?” asked Ruth.

“No; but a man’s back—­his tout ensemble has character enough in it to decide his rank.”

“His face was very singular; quite beautiful!” said she softly; but the subject did not interest Mr. Bellingham, and he let it drop.

CHAPTER VI

TROUBLES GATHER ABOUT RUTH

The next day the weather was brave and glorious; a perfect “bridal of the earth and sky;” and every one turned out of the inn to enjoy the fresh beauty of nature.  Ruth was quite unconscious of being the object of remark; and, in her light, rapid passings to and fro, had never looked at the doors and windows, where many watchers stood observing her, and commenting upon her situation or her appearance.

“She’s a very lovely creature,” said one gentleman, rising from the breakfast-table to catch a glimpse of her as she entered from her morning’s ramble.  “Not above sixteen I should think.  Very modest and innocent-looking in her white gown!”

His wife, busy administering to the wants of a fine little boy, could only say (without seeing the young girl’s modest ways, and gentle, downcast countenance)—­

“Well!  I do think it’s a shame such people should be allowed to come here.  To think of such wickedness under the same roof!  Do come away, my dear, and don’t flatter her by such notice.”

The husband returned to the breakfast-table; he smelt the broiled ham and eggs, and he heard his wife’s commands.  Whether smelling or hearing had most to do in causing his obedience, I cannot tell; perhaps you can.