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Gaskell, Elizabeth Cleghorn, 1810-1865

"Ruth"

Leonard still
slept that renovating slumber, almost in her arms, far from that
fatal pursuing sea, with its human form of cruelty. The dream was
a vision; the reality which prompted the dream was over and
past--Leonard was safe--she was safe; all this loosened the
frozen springs, and they gushed forth in her heart, and her lips
moved in accordance with her thoughts.
"What were you saying, my darling?" said Miss Benson, who caught
sight of the motion, and fancied she was asking for something.
Miss Benson bent over the side of the bed on which Ruth lay, to
catch the low tones of her voice.
"I only said," replied Ruth timidly, "thank God! I have so much
to thank Him for you don't know."
"My dear, I am sure we have all of us cause to be thankful that
our boy is spared. See! he is wakening up; and we will have a cup
of tea together. Leonard strode on to perfect health; but he was
made older in character and looks by his severe illness. He grew
tall and thin, and the lovely child was lost in the handsome boy.
He began to wonder and to question. Ruth mourned a little over
the vanished babyhood, when she was all in all, and over the
childhood, whose petals had fallen away; it seemed as though two
of her children were gone--the one an infant, the other a bright,
thoughtless darling; and she wished that they could have remained
quick in her memory for ever, instead of being absorbed in loving
pride for the present boy.


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