"He--is all I have left!" the woman breathed with a quick controlled gasp, "but, of course--it was--right that he should go!" She set her lips more firmly and blinked off at the blur of pretty homes on her right without seeing any of them. "He would have gone sooner, only he thought he ought not to leave me till he had to," she said with another proud little quiver in her voice, as if having once spoken she must go on and say more, "I kept telling him I would get on all right--but he always was so careful of me--ever since his father died!" "Of course!" said Ruth tenderly turning her face away to struggle with a strange smarting sensation in her own eyes and throat. Then in a low voice she added: "I knew him, you know. I used to go to the same school with him when I was a little bit of a girl." The woman looked up with a quick searching glance and brushed the tears away firmly. "Why, aren't you Ruth Macdonald? _Miss_ Macdonald, I mean--excuse me! You live in the big house on the hill, don't you?" "Yes, I'm Ruth Macdonald. Please don't call me Miss. I'm only nineteen and I still answer to my little girl name," Ruth answered with a charming smile. The woman's gaze softened. "I didn't know John knew you," she said speculatively. "He never mentioned----" "Of course not!" said the girl anticipating, "he wouldn't. It was a long time ago when I was seven and I doubt if he remembers me any more. They took me out of the public school the next year and sent me to St. Mary's for which I've never quite forgiven them, for I'm sure I should have got on much faster at the public school and I loved it. But I've not forgotten the good times I had there, and John was always good to the little girls. We all liked him. I haven't seen him much lately, but I should think he would have grown to be just what you say he is. He looks that way." Again the woman's eyes searched her face, as if she questioned the sincerity of her words; then apparently satisfied she turned away with a sigh: "I'd have liked him to know a girl like you," she said wistfully. "Thank you!" said Ruth brightly, "that sounds like a real compliment. Perhaps we shall know each other yet some day if fortune favors us. I'm quite sure he's worth knowing." "Oh, he is!" said the little mother, her tears brimming over again and flowing down her dismayed cheeks, "he's quite worth the best society there is, but I haven't been able to manage a lot of things for him. It hasn't been always easy to get along since his father died. Something happened to our money. But anyway, he got through college!" with a flash of triumph in her eyes. "Wasn't that fine!" said Ruth with sparkling eyes, "I'm sure he's worth a lot more than some of the fellows who have always had every whim gratified. Now, which street? You'll have to tell me. I'm ashamed to say I don't know this part of town very well. Isn't it pretty down here? This house? What a wonderful clematis! I never saw such a wealth of bloom."