Who cares for a recital of what she saw?
Misery and want are so common.

We can see them for ourselves any day.

In Ruth's heart a great indignation had kindled against old Mr.
Dare, of Vandon, who was inaccessible as a ghost in his own house, haunting the same rooms, but never to be found when Mr.Alwynn called upon him to "put things before him in their true light." And when Mr.
Dare descended to the Vandon vault, all Mr.Alwynn's interest, and consequently a good deal of Ruth's, had centred in the new heir, who was so difficult to find, and who ultimately turned up from the other end of nowhere just when people were beginning to despair of his ever turning up at all.
And now that he had come, would he make the crooked straight?
Would the new broom sweep clean?
Ruth recalled the new broom's brown handsome face, with the eager eyes and raised eyebrows, and involuntarily shook her head.

It is difficult to be an impartial judge of any one with a feeling for music and a pathetic tenor voice; but the face she had called to mind did not inspire her with confidence.

It was kindly, amiable, pleasant; but was it strong?
In other words, was it not a trifle weak?
She found herself comparing it with another, a thin, reserved face, with keen light eyes and a firm mouth; a mouth with a cigar in it at that moment on the lawn.