It did not take Jack many minutes we may be sure to hurry from the
station to Ruth's home. There it all happened just as he had
planned and schemed it should--even to the kiss and the hunting
for the package of bonds, and Ruth's cry of joy, and the walk
through the starlight night to Corinne's, and the finding her
upstairs; except that the poor woman was not yet in bed.
"Who gave it to you, Jack?" Corinne asked in a tired voice.
"A friend of Uncle Peter's."
"You mean Mr. Grayson?"
"Yes."
There was no outburst, no cry of gratitude, no flood of long-pent-
up tears. The storm had so crushed and bruised this plant that
many days must elapse before it would again lift its leaves from
the mud.
"It was very good of Mr. Grayson, Jack," was all she said in
answer, and then relapsed into the apathy which had been hers
since the hour when the details of her husband's dishonesty had
dropped from his lips.
Poor girl! she had no delusions to sustain her. She knew right
from wrong. Emotions never misled her.
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