His thoughts, however, were in such a tangle, and his motives so uncertain, that he walked very slowly, and did not see a single thing on the road. Before he reached the cottage he stopped short, and, taking an order-book and a pencil from his pocket, he dotted down in a series of propositions and questions the chief points of the problem. They ran in this order:--

1. I have as much right to love Ruth Penlogan as anyone else.

The Squire's Daughter — Part 170

2. Though I'm only a shopkeeper, and a dozen years her senior, there's nothing to hinder me from taking my chance.

The Squire's Daughter — Part 170

3. If buying Hillside would help me, and make Ruth happy, where's the wrong? Cannot say.

The Squire's Daughter — Part 170

4. But if buying Hillside would spoil Sam's chance, is that right? Doubtful.

5. Am I called upon to help Sam's cause to the detriment of my own? Also doubtful.

6. Is Ruth likely to be influenced by anything I may do or say? Don't know enough about women to answer that question.

9. Am I a fool for thinking about Ruth at all? Certainly.

At this point William thrust his order-book into his pocket and quickened his pace.

"It's not a bit of use speculating on possibilities or probabilities," he said to himself a little impatiently. "I'll have to do the thing that seems right and wise. The rest I must leave."

A minute or two later he was knocking at the cottage door.

Ralph had gone to Perranpool to see Robert Telfer, but Ruth expected him back every moment.

"Won't you come in and wait for him?" Ruth questioned, looking beyond him into the gathering twilight.

William hesitated for a moment, and then decided that he would.

"I am sure he will not be long," Ruth said, as she busied herself getting the lamp ready. "Mr. Telfer wanted to settle with him, as--as he can, of course, deliver no more concrete."

"It's an awful shame," William said abruptly, and he dropped into Ralph's easy-chair.

"It seems very hard," Ruth said reflectively; "but I tell Ralph it may be all for the best. Perhaps he was getting on too fast and too suddenly."

"He is not the sort to have his head turned by a bit of prosperity," William said, watching his fair hostess out of the corner of his eye.

"At any rate, the danger has been removed--if it was a danger." And Ruth sighed gently.

For several moments there was silence in the room. Ruth had the lamp to light and the blind to pull down and a fresh cover to lay on the table. William watched her with averted face and half-closed eyes. How womanly she was in all her movements; how dainty in her appearance; how gentle in her manner and speech!