and said he quite agreed with him. The old gentleman understood Stone's

Landing a good deal better than he would have done after an hour's talk

with either of it's expectant proprietors.

At this moment, and while Philip was trying to frame a question that he

found it exceedingly difficult to put into words, the door opened

quietly, and Ruth entered. Taking in the group with a quick glance, her

eye lighted up, and with a merry smile she advanced and shook hands with

Philip. She was so unconstrained and sincerely cordial, that it made

that hero of the west feel somehow young, and very ill at ease.

For months and months he had thought of this meeting and pictured it to

himself a hundred times, but he had never imagined it would be like this.

He should meet Ruth unexpectedly, as she was walking alone from the

school, perhaps, or entering the room where he was waiting for her, and

she would cry "Oh! Phil," and then check herself, and perhaps blush, and

Philip calm but eager and enthusiastic, would reassure her by his warm

manner, and he would take her hand impressively, and she would look up

timidly, and, after his' long absence, perhaps he would be permitted to

Good heavens, how many times he had come to this point, and wondered if

it could happen so. Well, well; he had never supposed that he should be

the one embarrassed, and above all by a sincere and cordial welcome.

"We heard you were at the Sassacus House," were Ruth's first words; "and

this I suppose is your friend?"

234

The Gilded Age