I was sorry for what I did afterwards; for, I don't know why, but, poor, lady! with her pale face, and black eyes, she reminded me of my mother. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. Submission to the inevitable carried her through the circumstances of her appearance before the magistrate. Still, that leaves over a million shrines short, not reckoning widows who re-marry. . She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. White rang the bell.
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