did. Well, she stretched it out, and I thought she meant it (for I was

green then), and, fool-like, I took it, and kissed it. She screeched as though I’d bit her!

_Mrs. V. B._ Will you take _my_ hand?

_Ruth._ (_astonished_). Do you know what I am?

_Mrs. V. B._ Yes; I know well what you are. You are a woman who wants help, and I a woman who will help you. (_Taking her hand_).

_Ruth._ (_much moved_). Thankee, missis! you’ve spoke fair to me. I’ve had no one speak like that to me for many a long year. Thankee, missis. (_Struggling with tears._) Don’t mind me. (_Throws her apron over her face and sobs._) They _will_ come odd times!

_Mrs. V. B._ Will you tell me your name?

_Ruth._ Ruth Tredgett. I come from Cambridge.

_Dr. A._ Born there?

_Ruth._ I dunno as I was born there, but I come from there.

_Dr. A._ What are you?

_Ruth._ I s’pose I’m a thief. I s’pose I’m what gentlefolk thinks is wus than a thief. God help me! I s’pose I’m as bad as I can be. (_Weeping._)

_Mrs. V. B._ Are your parents alive?

_Ruth._ No, I never had no father--my mother was such as me. See here, lady. Wot’s to become of a gal whose mother was such as me? Mother! Why, I could swear afore I could walk!

_Dr. A._ But were you not brought up to any calling?

_Ruth._ Yes, sir, I were; I were brought up to be a thief. Every soul as I knowed was a thief, and the best thief was the best thought on. Maybe a kid not long born ought to have knowed better. I dunno, I must ha’ been born bad, for it seemed right enough to me. Well, it was _in_ prison and _out_ o’ prison--three months here and six months there--till I was sixteen. I sometimes thinks as if they’d bin half as ready to show me how to go right as they was to punish me for goin’ wrong, I might have took the right turnin’ and stuck to it afore this. At sixteen I got seven year for shopliftin’, and was sent out to Port Philip. I soon got a ticket and tried service and needlework, but no one wouldn’t have me; and I got sick and tired of it all, and began to think o’ putting a end to it, when I met a smooth-spoken chap--a gentleman, if you please--as wanted to save me from the danger afore me. Well, wot odds? He was a psalm-singing villain, and he soon left me. No need to tell the rest--to such as you it can’t be told. I’m ’most as bad as I can be--as bad as I can be!

_Mrs. V. B._ I think not; I think not. What do you say, Doctor?

_Dr. A._ (_struggling with his tears_). Say, ma’am? I say that you, Ruth Tredgett, have been a most discreditable person, and you ought to be heartily ashamed of yourself, Ruth Tredgett; and as a clergyman of the Church of England I feel bound to tell you that--that your life has been--has been what God knows it couldn’t well have helped being under the circumstances.

_Mrs. V. B._ Ruth Tredgett, I am very, very sorry for you. If you are willing to leave this unhappy course of life I will provide you with the means of earning your living honestly.

_Ruth._ Honestly! Why, lady, I’m too fur gone for that!

_Mrs. V. B._ I hope not. I have assisted many, very many such women as yourself, and I have seldom found my efforts wasted.

_Ruth._ But you--a lady, high-born, high-bred, beautiful, rich, good--(_In amazement._)

_Mrs. V. B._ Hush. (_Rises._) No matter what I am. (_With emotion._) Who shall say what the very best of us might not have been but for the accident of education and good example? Tell me, Ruth Tredgett, will you accept my offer?

_Ruth._ (_kneels at her feet and looks up into her face_). I will!