"There is another matter," he said, "of great importance which was mentioned during the interview, and which we may speak of presently. You now know my reason for sending to Ruth to come home. I must learn the truth from her own lips." "Strangely enough," said Mr. Moss rather nervously, "I have come to say something about Ruth myself." "Surely not in connection with this matter?" exclaimed Aaron. "You must be the judge of that, Cohen. Did you notice whether Rose was looking well?" "She looked tired. Dr. Roberts said she had passed a bad night, and that the change would do her good." "A bad night! No wonder, poor child. I scarcely slept an hour with what is on my mind. You will be surprised at what I have to tell you. But first--Rose said nothing about Ruth?" "Nothing whatever." "You must not blame her; she acted by my directions, and her lips are sealed." "Why should I blame her? She is a dear, good child; I have implicit faith and confidence in her. You alarm me, Mr. Moss. Speak plainly, I beg of you." "Yes, I will do so; but I would have liked to break it gradually. Cohen, Ruth is not in Portsmouth." "Not in Portsmouth! Where, then?" "If what she writes and my eyes are to be believed she is in London, and has been here all the week. She remained with us two days, and then left, saying she was going to pay a visit to some other friends. We naturally thought, though we expected her to make a longer stay, that you were aware of it, and that the plan of her visit had been altered with your concurrence. Last night as I passed through Regent Street I saw a lady in a hansom in the company of a gentleman, and I could have sworn it was Ruth; but the cab was driving at a quick pace, and I thought I must have been mistaken. I came on here to Rose, and the poor child was in deep distress. She had received, a letter from Ruth, which she gave me to read. I do not offer any excuse for taking the letter from her; she is but a child, and is quite unfit for a responsibility which, without her consent, was imposed upon her. Here is the letter. It explains itself." Aaron read it in silence, and with conflicting feelings. His first thought was that Ruth had taken her fate into her own hands. He had done his duty jealously by her in the past whatever might be his duty in the present. If, as was his fervent hope, no dishonor to her was involved in her flight--for it was no less than flight and desertion of the home in which she had been reared--if there had been a secret marriage, new contingencies of the future loomed dimly before him, contingencies in which the stern task it was his duty to perform was not so terrible in its import.