An unhappy little sigh escaped her. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. He had attained the residence by his political ascension to the Duke of Herculis. He had not remembered her as looking so small. After fifteen years, to find that peculiarly Occidental attribute—college loyalty—still alive in his heart! A Western idea that had survived; an idea that was merely the flower of youthful enthusiasm! With his hands still in his sleeves, his chin down in speculation over this phenomenon, he continued his patrol. Whenever McClintock had guests, he loafed with them on the west veranda in the morning. See the new litter of Mrs.
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