The servants glanced curiously at each other, and John, the table-waiter, said he knew now why Miss Julia looked so black at lunch, and whisked so spitefully out of the room. Julia was furious, and when alone with her father spoke her mind freely to him, asking first if it were true, that Mrs. Schuyler had adopted Gertie Rogers, and was to bring her there to live. “Not adopted; no, certainly not adopted her,” the colonel said, apologetically, for there was something in his daughter’s black eyes which made him wince a little. “That woman was anxious about her child’s future, and Mrs. Schuyler,—or, rather, we promised to give her a home and an education, but there was no talk of adoption. No, certainly not.” He was careful to spare Edith as much as possible, and generously said _we_,—but Julia was not deceived, and answered, indignantly: “What is Gertie Rogers and that woman to Mrs. Schuyler? Are they relatives of hers, that she has so persistently interested herself in them since she first came to Hampstead? It would certainly seem as if they were more than mere chance acquaintances, as she affirms.” “Julia, hush! I will hear no more!” the colonel said; but Julia would not stop, and continued, hotly: “I wonder what my mother would say could she know the kind of society to which her children are subjected, and the danger threatening Godfrey.” “Godfrey!” the colonel repeated, in surprise; and Julia answered him: “You must have been blind not to have seen the interest he has taken in Gertie Rogers ever since she came here. Why, she has even presumed to criticise his manners and his mode of talk; and he has promised to improve for _her_ sake, and holds her up as a pattern for Alice and me to imitate. If he does this now, when she is in her proper place, what may he not do when he finds her here, an equal, and a daughter of the house, as I understand Mrs. Schuyler says she is to be. Possibly she may yet be the daughter really; and if so, you’ll have yourself to thank.”