If he had been her father, Tom
said, he could not have taken a greater interest in her.
But although Tom and his sister were extremely conversational, they were
less lively, and less cheerful, than usual. Tom had no idea that this
originated with Ruth, but took it for granted that he was rather dull
himself. In truth he was; for the lightest cloud upon the Heaven of her
quiet mind, cast its shadow upon Tom.
And there was a cloud on little Ruth that evening. Yes, indeed. When Tom
was looking in another direction, her bright eyes, stealing on towards
his face, would sparkle still more brightly than their custom was, and
then grow dim. When Tom was silent, looking out upon the summer weather,
she would sometimes make a hasty movement, as if she were about to throw
herself upon his neck; then check the impulse, and when he looked
round, show a laughing face, and speak to him very merrily; when she had
anything to give Tom, or had any excuse for coming near him, she would
flutter about him, and lay her bashful hand upon his shoulder, and not
be willing to withdraw it; and would show by all such means that there
was something on her heart which in her great love she longed to say to
him, but had not the courage to utter.
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