The Miser's Sister Read Free

hierarchy of parents, husband, king, and God—to all of whom both obligations were owed. Ruth suppressed her rebellious mood and listened in patience.
    They then discussed the books he had lent her on his last visit. His comments were as always judicious, weighty, and carefully considered, and if his views were uniformly conservative, Ruth was unfamiliar with any others. Even so, she was beginning to be a little irked by his pedantic condescension, though she was not certain what was causing her restlessness, when he pulled out his silver watch.
    “Why, my dear Ruth,” he said with a deprecatory smile, “our debate has been so interesting that we have quite passed the usual hour of our mutual repast. Should you wish, my love, to eat al fresco ? I confess myself unable to see the harm in an occasional indulgence of the sort?”
    Touched by his solicitude, Ruth eagerly agreed.
    “There is a bench outside the inn that I have often thought appears exceptionally comfortable,” she proposed.
    “Lady Ruth!” he exclaimed, shocked. “Can I believe my ears? It must be considered totally ineligible for a gently bred female to be seen in the vicinity of a common alehouse. Do not I always fetch our modest meal to you? Only the most absolute ignorance of the world can excuse such a proposal!”
    Cowed, Ruth waited for him in the church porch, and they sat in its shade, almost as chill as the interior, to consume their bread and cheese and cider.
    Even so, it was a pleasanter meal than she would have had at home. Mr Vane forgave her faux pas and discoursed knowledgeably on the ways of the Fashionable World and the sights of London, with both of which he had an admittedly meagre acquaintance. She ventured to ask a question or two about his travels to the Lake District and the Welsh Mountains, and was rewarded with a promise that they should take a bridal trip “at least into Gloucestershire,” where he had relatives they might stay with.
    “It is indeed a pity,” he continued severely, “that his lordship, your brother, has not seen fit to keep in touch with the other branches of your own family.”
    “My uncle writes every Christmas,” pointed out Ruth. “Indeed, I believe he wrote a fortnight since to recommend a young man who is visiting Cornwall. It is evident that he has not been to Penderric Castle for decades or he’d not expect Godfrey to open his doors to a stranger,” she added with asperity, and then dejectedly, “When I turned eighteen he offered to accommodate me for a season in London, but papa did not think the expense justifiable.”
    While they were talking, clouds had approached from the west. Meeting higher ground, they enveloped it in a heavy fog. Ruth jumped up in alarm.
    “Walter, I must hurry home before the mist grows any thicker. The track is well marked, but it is near an hour’s walk.”
    “You shall ride Dapple, my dear, and I will lead him. You cannot go alone in this.”
    “But I have not ridden a horse in ten years.”
    “He is a quiet pony, you will come to no harm. I shall then return here and claim a bed from one of my flock. I’ll not be expected in Camelford in this weather. Come, Ruth.”
    The moorland track seemed sinister in the all-pervading mist, and Ruth noticed that her betrothed, walking ahead, started visibly every time a sheep bleated or a pile of granite boulders loomed suddenly beside them. They reached the point, not a mile from the castle, where the track branched left toward Brown Willy.
    “Walter,” called Ruth, “you must go back now. I am almost home now, and you might easily miss your way here if you come farther.”
    “If you are quite sure,” he agreed, stepping back to her, “I daresay it would be wise. Keep my cloak, my dear. Your dress is very thin, and your pelisse not much thicker.”
    “Thank you, you are very kind. It was so warm when I set out, but you’d think I would know the weather’s tricks by now. It was foolish of me.”
    Mr Vane helped