surmised correctly the causes that had led to it, and all were agreed that it was a most unfortunate ending to an ideal romance. Ruth's mother, when she was told of it, collapsed. For three days she housed herself and was inconsolable. She had grown to be very fond of Westgate. And for once Ruth's father dropped his reticence, and expressed himself in language which, though fluent, was not quite fit for Ruth to listen to, and certainly would have been entirely inappropriate for public repetition. For he, too, was fond of his junior partner, he had great respect for the young man's proved ability, and he had looked forward with intense satisfaction to his coming marriage with Ruth.
By no one was the news of the broken engagement received with approval, unless, possibly, by the rector of Christ Church. Not that he was indifferent to the disappointment or suffering of others; by no means. But the separation cleared the way for Ruth's progress toward higher realms of Christian service. It would permit her to give her undivided allegiance to the work in which he himself was so vitally interested. That it was a selfish consideration on his part did not occur to him. That the event was the first logical calamity, the first tragic result of an ill-considered crusade, or that it was the forerunner of still more tragic events which the future was bound to bring, never once crossed his mind. One of his former friends, commenting on the minister's failure to see the trend of circumstances, said that the man was living in a fool's paradise.
But the fact of the breaking of the engagement was food and drink to Jane Chichester. Not that she personally had anything at stake. But she loved a sensation. She would almost have given her chance of salvation to have heard the conversation between Westgate and Ruth on the night of the separation. From every one whom she met, either by chance or design, she gleaned what information she could concerning the
