If the truth were known, he neither suspected nor could he be made
to believe that Ruth had any troubles. The facts were that he had
given her all his heart and had been ready to lay himself at her
feet, that being the accepted term in his mental vocabulary--and
she would have none of him. She had let him understand so--
rebuffed him--not once, but every time he had tried to broach the
subject of his devotion;--once in the Geneseo arbor, and again on
that morning when he had really crawled to her side because he
could no longer live without seeing her. The manly thing to do now
was to accept the situation: to do his work; look after his
employer's interests, read, study, run over whenever he could to
see Peter--and these were never-to-be-forgotten oases in the
desert of his despair--and above all never to forget that he owed
a duty to Miss Ruth in which no personal wish of his own could
ever find a place. She was alone and without an escort except her
father, who was often so absorbed in his work, or so tired at
night, as to be of little help to her.
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