But her cries, instead of moving her assailant's compassion, only added to his fury. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. "A doctor at once!" cried Ruth excitedly. What hotel should she go to? If she told a cabman to drive to an hotel, any hotel, what would he do—or say? He might drive to something dreadfully expensive, and not at all the quiet sort of thing she required. She just sat and told me that was her arrangement. . At the thought of the major, her tears redoubled and she was obliged to rip off a piece from the remnants of her already maltreated underpetticoats with which to blow her nose and soak the damp from her cheeks. There is Mr. Brutes! They are the brute still with us! Science some day may teach us a way to do without them. And I passed myself off as Meysey Hill, and since—then—I haven’t had a minute’s peace. To her consternation, the sound drew her great-aunt’s attention and she threw out a hand. He was only a younger son, and you know what trouble we had. ” “No,” she cried, “I will not. And she found herself able to do nothing of the sort. But if he speaks—I fear what he may tell.
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