"
Ruth durst cry no more; it was no relief, now she was watched and
noticed, and plied with a sandwich or a ginger-bread each time
she looked sad. She lay back with her eyes shut, as if asleep,
and went on, and on, the sun never seeming to move from his high
place in the sky, nor the bright hot day to show the least sign
of waning. Every now and then Miss Benson scrambled down, and
made kind inquiries of the pale, weary Ruth; and once they
changed coaches, and the fat old lady left her with a hearty
shake of the hand.
"It is not much further now," said Miss Benson, apologetically,
to Ruth. "See! we are losing sight of the Welsh mountains. We
have about eighteen miles of plain, and then we come to the moors
and the rising ground, amidst which Eccleston lies. I wish we
were there, for my brother is sadly tired." The first wonder in
Ruth's mind was, why then, if Mr. Benson was so tired, did they
not stop where they were for the night; for she knew little of
the expenses of a night at an inn. The next thought was, to beg
that Mr. Benson would take her place inside the coach, and allow
her to mount up by Miss Benson. She proposed this, and Miss
Benson was evidently pleased.
"Well, if you're not tired, it would be a rest and a change for
him, to be sure; and if you were by me I could show you the first
sight of Eccleston, if we reach there before it is quite dark."
So Mr. Benson got down, and changed places with Ruth.
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