"Yes, you're right. Time flies. You've given me quite a little shock,
but, by Jove! I'm already favorably impressed with your taste. Will you
allow me the privilege of a kiss, my dear?"

"Sir!" indignantly, for in the dim light she does not see that his
mustache is snow-white, as is also his hair.

Her tragic attitude rather alarms John.

"Ruth, it's my father!" he cries.

This alters the case.

"Your father! Oh! John, has he--" She sees the warning finger her
betrothed raises up, and stops suddenly, for she has been about to say
something relative to the presence of Sister Magdalen in the city.

The elder Craig raises the shade, and in the new light Lady Ruth sees a
remarkably handsome man of middle age, even distinguished in his manner.

Then he is John's father, too, and that makes quite a difference. She
approaches, with hand extended.

"Forgive me, sir. I did not dream John's father was within five thousand
miles of Algiers."

"And if you have agreed to be my only boy's wife you must be my
daughter, too."

This time he bestows a paternal salute upon her velvety cheek. Possibly