Ruth by Elizabeth Gaskell Page A

overshadowed by the
trees, whose highest boughs had been beneath their feet a few minutes
before. The pond was hardly below the surface of the ground, and
there was nothing like a bank on any side. A heron was standing there
motionless, but when he saw them he flapped his wings and slowly
rose, and soared above the green heights of the wood up into the very
sky itself, for at that depth the trees appeared to touch the round
white clouds which brooded over the earth. The speed-well grew in
the shallowest water of the pool, and all around its margin, but the
flowers were hardly seen at first, so deep was the green shadow cast
by the trees. In the very middle of the pond the sky was mirrored
clear and dark, a blue which looked as if a black void lay behind.
    "Oh, there are water-lilies," said Ruth, her eye catching on the
farther side. "I must go and get some."
    "No; I will get them for you. The ground is spongy all round there.
Sit still, Ruth; this heap of grass will make a capital seat."
    He went round, and she waited quietly for his return. When he came
back he took off her bonnet, without speaking, and began to place
his flowers in her hair. She was quite still while he arranged her
coronet, looking up in his face with loving eyes, with a peaceful
composure. She knew that he was pleased from his manner, which had
the joyousness of a child playing with a new toy, and she did not
think twice of his occupation. It was pleasant to forget everything
except his pleasure. When he had decked her out, he said:
    "There, Ruth! now you'll do. Come and look at yourself in the pond.
Here, where there are no weeds. Come."
    She obeyed, and could not help seeing her own loveliness; it gave
her a sense of satisfaction for an instant, as the sight of any
other beautiful object would have done, but she never thought of
associating it with herself. She knew that she was beautiful; but
that seemed abstract, and removed from herself. Her existence was in
feeling, and thinking, and loving.
    Down in that green hollow they were quite in harmony. Her beauty was
all that Mr Bellingham cared for, and it was supreme. It was all he
recognised of her, and he was proud of it. She stood in her white
dress against the trees which grew around; her face was flushed into
a brilliancy of colour which resembled that of a rose in June; the
great heavy white flowers drooped on either side of her beautiful
head, and if her brown hair was a little disordered, the very
disorder only seemed to add a grace. She pleased him more by looking
so lovely than by all her tender endeavours to fall in with his
varying humour.
    But when they left the wood, and Ruth had taken out her flowers, and
resumed her bonnet, as they came near the inn, the simple thought of
giving him pleasure was not enough to secure Ruth's peace. She became
pensive and sad, and could not rally into gaiety.
    "Really, Ruth," said he, that evening, "you must not encourage
yourself in this habit of falling into melancholy reveries without
any cause. You have been sighing twenty times during the last
half-hour. Do be a little cheerful. Remember, I have no companion but
you in this out-of-the-way place."
    "I am very sorry, sir," said Ruth, her eyes filling with tears; and
then she remembered that it was very dull for him to be alone with
her, heavy-hearted as she had been all day. She said in a sweet,
penitent tone:
    "Would you be so kind as to teach me one of those games at cards you
were speaking about yesterday, sir? I would do my best to learn."
    Her soft, murmuring voice won its way. They rang for the cards, and
he soon forgot that there was such a thing as depression or gloom in
the world, in the pleasure of teaching such a beautiful ignoramus the
mysteries of card-playing.
    "There!" said he, at last, "that's enough for one lesson. Do you
know, little goose, your blunders have made me laugh myself into one
of the worst headaches I have had for years."
    He threw himself on the sofa, and in an instant she