She continued for a while in her shy, gentle efforts to win him back to something like the old friendliness, which had existed between them before they had become engaged to be married. It was this which she longed to have restored, with her craving for affection and her dread of hard feeling. But despairing at last, she arose with a sigh and went to the hearth, and began talking to the two old ladies, who left off quarrelling when she came, as they nearly always did. From the hearth she turned to the supper-table, to give it the delicate finishing touches, and then there was a general movement as the family settled into their places. It seemed to David that the meal would never end, that he should never be able to tell Ruth. As he sat looking down at his untasted food, and had time to think, he came gradually to understand something of the meaning of the young doctor's sudden agitation, his solemn message, and his hurried departure. The boy could not keep his distress out of his face, and Ruth saw it in her first glance at him across the table. In the shadows of the room she had not seen him distinctly until now, and the sight of his trouble touched her as it never failed to do even when she believed it to be imaginary. As soon as possible she left the table and went to the door, glancing at him over her shoulder. He followed instantly and, passing her swiftly as she stood in the doorway, he beckoned her to come outside. "What is it?" she asked, running to him. She grasped his arm and turned white and began to tremble, not knowing what she feared. There was something in his look, and something in her own heart, which told her that this was no boyish whim or fancy, such as she was often called to comfort and beguile for him. She could not see his face distinctly enough to gather anything from looking at him; they were standing beyond the broad band of light streaming from the open door. But there was no need for sight; he poured out the story almost in a breath, ending with Paul's message to her. And she understood more than he had said, far more than he could ever say or understand, before the words had fairly left his lips. The divination of a woman's love--that marvellous white light--flashed the whole truth, and she uttered a smothered cry as she saw it. So crying out, she shrank away from him, and threw off his hand and struck at him fiercely, like some soft little wild thing suddenly hurt.