. Mrs. CHAPTER XXIII. It was rude and disrespectful to raise her eyes to him, her mother had warned. Wood," said the lady bridling up, "my request may, perhaps, have some weight with you. She did not want particularly to know what had caused his agony, what had driven him back to the old coat. What was it in her heart or mind or soul that went out to this man? Music—was that it? Was he powerless to stir her without the gift? But hadn't he fascinated her by his talk, gentle and winning? Ah, but that had been after he had played for her. There was still in his heart that fierce anger which demands physical expression; but he had to consider Ruth in all phases. The news that his granddaughter desired an audience Lord Charvill had greeted with merely a grunt, which turned into a roar as his gorge rose when he heard that she was accompanied by her husband. Looking at this girl, a sense of failure swept over him.
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