She did not speak, but stood there trembling, till he led her to Lord Henry. Will you take her, sir? he said. "You will not refuse her a home for what has occurred?" If Lord Henry Moorpark had felt any hesitation, it was chased away by the action of his wife, who caught her cousin to her heart. "Some day, Lady Henry--Lord Henry," continued Glen, "I will come as a gentleman, and ask that the past may be forgotten, and that Ruth Allerton may be my wife. Mr Montaigne--" He signed toward the door, and vainly trying to resist the stern eyes fixed upon him, Montaigne led the way, and was followed out. Volume 3, Chapter XIV. A WOMAN'S WORK. Directly after leaving the dinner-table Ruth set herself to watch her cousin, asking herself the while what course she had better pursue. At times she thought she would speak to Lord Henry, but she shrank from such an exposure. Marie would perhaps be saved from the step she evidently contemplated, but at what a cost! Her husband's confidence would be for ever gone, and the old man's happiness at an end. Marie was very pale, but there was a red spot burning in either cheek, and as Ruth watched her she could see a deep frown upon her brow, while from time to time she pressed her hand upon her breast as if to still the beatings of her heart. Then came those words she had heard Marie mutter perfectly distinctly in her unquiet sleep--the room she was to ask for at the Channel Hotel; the threat Marcus Glen had uttered respecting his action if she did not come; and as Ruth sat there in the terrible silence of the large drawing-room, she felt that if she did not do something at once the strain upon her mind would be more than she could bear. All at once Marie gave a start, and drew in her breath as if in sudden pain. She seemed to forget the presence of Ruth, and, rising, walked quickly to the mantelpiece, pressing her hair back from her forehead, while, taking advantage of her back being turned, Ruth glided softly into the smaller drawing-room, which was in comparative darkness. The idea had come at last. It seemed reckless and wild, but she knew that it was useless to appeal to Marie. She would go herself to Marcus Glen. He was noble-hearted and true. There was a simple manliness in his nature that made her hope, and she would kneel and appeal to him to spare her cousin, to pause before he wrecked the happiness of the good, chivalrous old man who trusted his wife in the pride and nobleness of his heart. "I shall be too late," thought Ruth; and, wound up now to a pitch of excitement which seemed to urge her to act, she softly turned the handle of the door, glided out, and without stopping to close it, ran up to her room. Money she had, and in a very few minutes she had dressed herself for her task, and, closely veiled, she stepped softly to the door.