Gerald hung his head in shame at the sound of reproach in his father's voice; he had expected anger—punishment—but not this. "Oh, father, you cannot think how sorry I am!" he murmured contritely, his eyes filling with tears. "Yes, I think I can. But your sorrow would have been of little account if poor little Dora Mickle had lost her life. Say no more on the subject now; it makes one shudder to contemplate what might have been the results of your deliberate disobedience. I will have a talk with you by-and-by. Your uncle and I hoped to spend a happy evening, and I do not wish it to be spoilt on your account. We will speak of something else." "First of all, let us tell the children about their old friend, Mrs. Steer," Mr. Bailey suggested. He had been observing Gerald whilst his father had been speaking to him, and was much struck by his haggard appearance and the hunted look in his eyes. "Tell them of our visit to her, John." "Oh yes, do, father!" Angel cried, her troubled face brightening somewhat. It was a great relief to know that Mr. Willis did not intend to punish Gerald, and her spirits accordingly began to rise. "Dear Mrs. Steer! How kind she used to be to me! How did you find her? Was she glad to see you? Had she many lodgers? Was—" "Oh, stop!" Mr. Willis exclaimed. "Not so many questions at once. We found her just as ever—she wore a purple gown, I cannot say if it was the same we used to know—and I really think she was glad to see us." "Especially to see you, John," Mr. Bailey interposed. "I thought she would never cease shaking hands with you." "She really seemed delighted," Mr. Willis continued, "and declared I was looking remarkably well. She asked all sorts of kind questions about you, Angel—if you went to school, if you had grown, and how you liked the country. We were with her quite a long while, she had so much to say; she even inquired about my work, and wanted to know if the picture which was to make my fortune was finished." "What did you say?" Angel questioned, flushing a little. "Of course I told her it was not, but I hoped it would be some day. She shook her head at that, and remarked that pictures were all very well in their way, but no one ought to waste much time upon them." "Oh, father!" Angel exclaimed; then, seeing he was smiling, she broke into a laugh. "Mrs. Steer doesn't understand," she said, "but she means well, and she's a good old soul." Gerald was wondering if their old landlady had made no mention of him, when his father turned to him with the remark— "She was very interested in all I told her about you, too, Gerald. Indeed, I believe she is really fond of both of you children." After tea Angel took her father out to look at her own garden, to see how the geraniums had come into flower. She took the opportunity to speak to him about her brother.