Ruth did not take up the challenge on Gertie’s behalf. She knew that her mother had really grown fond of the child, and that she could no more help saying spiteful things occasionally than Lion could help growling. In both cases ‘it was their nature to.’ Gurth played his cards so well and grew so rapidly in favour with the Adrians that he soon felt emboldened to allow his feelings for Ruth to become gradually apparent. Ruth was the last person to perceive the impression she had made, and it was forced upon her by a little conversation which is worth repeating. One evening, when the Adrians were alone, and after Gertie had gone to bed, something brought up Gurth’s name, and then Marston’s. ‘They’re not to be named in the same breath,’ said Mrs. Adrian, looking Ruth full in the face. ‘Mr. Egerton’s a man that any girl might be glad to marry. I wonder he hasn’t been snapped up long ago.’ ‘Lion would have snapped him up once or twice if we had let him,’ said Mr. Adrian with a smile. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, John; you know what I mean. Look how he sits on his chair. Like a gentleman. As to Mr. Marston, I never see him tilting the dining-room chairs back but I expect to see the legs come off. He’d ruin the furniture in a decent house in a month.’ Ruth laughed, Marston had offended her mother mortally by his habit of sitting with his chair tilted. ‘You may laugh, Ruth,’ continued the old lady; ‘but if ever you have a house of your own you’ll know what it is to see your dining-room suite going to pieces before your very eyes. People that can’t sit in chairs like a Christian oughtn’t to come into respectable houses. I’m sure I expect to see him sit on the table and put his legs up the chimney some day.’ ‘You’re very hard on Mr. Marston, mother,’ said Ruth; ‘he’s lived in America many years, and you know they do very curious things there.’ ‘Very, my dear. Oh, I know that. And I dare say Mr. Marston’s done a good many curious things there. Of course, my dear, I haven’t forgotten what was between you once, but I hope that’ll never happen again.’ Ruth coloured and bit her lip. Mr. Adrian noticed it, and tried to turn the conversation by talking about the weather, but Mrs. Adrian was not be so easily turned from her course. ‘It’s no good looking at me like that, John,’ she exclaimed. ‘I know what you mean. Isn’t Ruth my daughter as much as she is yours? I say I should like to see her well married; and if I was a young girl Mr. Gurth Egerton shouldn’t ask me twice—there now!’ ‘But, my dear Mary,’ urged Mr. Adrian, ‘Egerton hasn’t asked Ruth once yet.’ ‘Of course not. But, if I know anything, he will before very long. What do you think he comes here for?—to chatter to you about the Ojibbeways, or to hold my worsted for me? Nonsense! He comes here after Ruth—and you must all be blind if you can’t see it.’