"Don't let our talk worry you," he said, in so low a voice that Miss Ruth could not hear his words. "I am sure you were quite right to decide as you did--judging from your point of view, I mean, for of course I hold a different opinion. If you ever see fit to change your decision, you must promise to come and tell me." And of course I promised unhesitatingly. Miss Ruth followed me to my room, and stood by the fire a few minutes. "You look grave to-night, Esther, and I flatter myself that it is because you are sorry that your visit has come to an end." "And you are right," I returned, throwing my arms round her light little figure. Oh, how dearly I had grown to love her! "I would like to be always with you, Miss Ruth; to wait upon you and be your servant. Nothing would be beneath me--nothing. You are fond of me a little, are you not?" for somehow I craved for some expression of affection on this last night. Miss Ruth was very affectionate, but a little undemonstrative sometimes in manner. "I am very fond of you, Esther," she replied, turning her sweet eyes to me, "and I shall miss my kind, attentive nurse more than I can say. Poor Nurse Gill is getting quite jealous of you. She says Flurry is always wild to get to her playfellow, and will not stay with her if she can help it, and that now I can easily dispense with her services for myself. I had to smooth her down, Esther; the poor old creature quite cried about it, but I managed to console her at last." "I was always afraid that Mrs. Gill did not like me," I returned, in a pained voice, for somehow I always disliked hurting people's feelings. "Oh, she likes you very much; you must not think that. She says Miss Cameron is a very superior young lady, high in manner, and quite the gentlewoman. I think nurse's expression was 'quite the lady, Miss Ruth.'" "I have never been high in manner to her," I laughed. "We have a fine gossip sometimes over the nursery fire. I like Mrs. Gill, and would not injure her feelings for the world. She is so kind to Dot, too, when he comes to play with Flurry." "Poor little man, he will be glad to get his dear Esther back," she returned, in a sympathizing voice; and then she bade me good-night, and begged me to hasten to bed, as St. Barnabas had just chimed eleven. I woke the next morning with a weight upon me, as though I were expecting some ordeal; and though I scolded myself vigorously for my moral cowardice, and called myself a selfish, lazy girl, I could not shake off the feeling. Never had Miss Ruth seemed so dear to me as she had that day. As the hour approached for my departure I felt quite unhappy at the thought of even leaving her for those few hours. "We shall see you in the morning," she said, quite cheerfully, as I knelt on the rug, drawing on my warm gloves. I fancied she noticed my foolish, unaccountable depression, and would not add to it by any expression of regret.