It was captivating to see how instantly and
entirely she had fitted herself into a partnership so exacting; though
it was pitiful to note, on second glance, how the tint and contour of
her cheek were losing their perfection, and her eyes were showing those
rapid alternations of languor and vivacity which story-tellers call a
"hunted look." Yet, oh, yes, she was happy; the pair were happy. It was
as a pair that they were happiest. Else, said the old street, they could
not keep up the old Winslow-Byington alliance so beautifully.
To the truth of this general outline the three homes' domestics,
dominated by Sarah Stebbens, certified with cordial and loyal brevity.
Yet when Ruth wrote Godfrey how well things were going, there lurked
between her bright lines one or two irrepressible meanings that locked
his jaws till they creaked.
In fact, both his brother and hers were "ailing." Both carried a jaded,
almost a broken look, and Arthur was taking things to make him eat and
sleep; while Leonard had daily accepted more and more of the young
rector's complicating cares, until he was really the parish's chief
burden-bearer.
"No," he said to his father, "Arthur carries his whole work manfully on
his own shoulders."
"But, my son," replied the old General, "don't you see you're carrying
Arthur?"
"No, I sha'n't do that," dryly responded the son; but Ruth saw a change
on his brow as on that of a guide who fears he has missed the path.
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