Just as this man was leaving her home, one day, for he had been making frequent visits there, he turned to look at her as she stood between the pillar-like gate-posts at the entrance to the drive that led to her residence; the picture she made, standing there in the glow of the setting sun, lingered in his memory long after he had ceased to see her as he saw her, then; Ruth was very fond of flowers and often wore a rose tucked in among the coils of her beautiful, shining hair; that evening, her selection among her flowers for this use had been a bunch of English violets; the deep blue of the dainty blossoms accentuated the clear gray color of her star-like eyes ... her healthy skin reflected the sunset after-glow which was beginning to appear in the western sky; her small mouth, with its cute corners, puckered up as if, she used to say when a child, it had been too large to begin with and had been shirred at the corners to make it the desired size, registered each change of her inner feelings; her dress was elegant, yet simple, and her poise was splendid; there are few earthly women who have sufficient poise of manner and of nervous strength; most of them become excited and distraught under slight stress of circumstances, but Ruth Wakefield was an exception to this very general rule; there were very few things that could shake her from her serenity of purpose and intention; one of these things was being a witness to any injustice ... an indignity put upon a weaker creature by a stronger one, whether the creature be gifted with the power to express its feelings in human speech or not; those who knew her best, were well aware of her strong regard for the rights of so-called "dumb animals" ... her loving sympathy went out to every old or poorly cared for horse she saw; she had been heard to say that she would dearly love to have a good pasture, with waving grasses and running water and sheltering trees where she could gather together all the illy-used horses in the world and then just watch them enjoy their surroundings; the smaller creatures, also, were her friends ... little Tid-i-wats, to whom we have already been introduced, was a feline of very uncertain temper and most impulsive and nerve-racking little habits, yet to Ruth she could always go and be sure of a loving reception no matter to what lengths she had gone, for Tid-i-wats was far from being a perfect little cat; she very often reverted to her original type and did things that no cat with a civilized ancestry would have even thought could _be_ done; but she knew that Ruth would only say: "She is not feeling very well, today; she is beginning to show her years a little; I noticed a white hair only today, on her little neck; she is my own old baby-cat, anyway, and I will always take as good care of her as I possibly can."