Rowland," she added, in an altered tone, "I am certain I shall not live many days. ’ ‘Idiot. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. "Your sympathy is being wasted. Will you find your destiny, I wonder, or will you go through life like so many others—a wanderer, knocking ever at empty doors, homeless to the last? Oh, if one could but find the way to your heart. "All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. ‘The major thinks she’s worth it,’ put in Prudence quietly. ’ Then he bowed, raising his hat in salute and, crossing to the coach, spoke briefly to its driver and leapt into it without looking back. Ruth hugged the envelope and McClintock, with the end of a burnt match, drew a cabalistic sign.
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