" Prudence felt the hands stiffen oddly; and again the thought came to her that perhaps this poor child's father had once been, perhaps still was, in the same category as this Taber. ‘I kissed you once, didn’t I?’ Her pulses jumped and she stared. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition. The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. ’ ‘Pottiswick, you mean, miss?’ ‘Yes, yes. But for him——” Something in her sister’s tone startled Anna. “Where have you been? All these hours I have been calling for you.
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