For a weak woman like herself to attempt the regeneration of this burly reprobate she felt would be foolish, and could lead to no good result. The chances were that she would be forbidden the place, and then Gertie would be without a friend. Her only hope was that in time Gertie might be able to have some influence herself, and might, in the hands of Providence, become a means of leading the old man into a different path. Miss Adrian had passed from moral topics, and was hearing Gertie her spelling lesson. Gertie generally spelt the things they could see from the window and the animals in the room. It gave interest to a dry subject. She had got beyond dogs, and cats, and rats, and animals of one syllable, and now she was in animals of two syllables. ‘Spell parrot,’ said Miss Adrian. Polly hopped about and gave a shriek. It evidently knew it was going to be spelt, and objected strongly. ‘P-a-r,’ said Gertie. ‘Rot,’ shrieked the bird, and the vulgarism came so _à propos_ that Miss Adrian looked at the bird half-fearfully. There was undoubtedly something uncanny about this diabolical parrot. Just as there was a moment of dead silence after Polly’s disgraceful interruption, a footstep was heard on the stairs, and the next moment Polly burst out into a torrent of oaths. Gertie, flushed scarlet with shame, and Miss Adrian changed colour. The step had startled her, and she felt a sudden terror. It might be Heckett coming upstairs, and she felt that a trying interview was before her. The parrot had recognized the step first. It was Heckett sure enough, but not Heckett alone. The old dog-fancier came marching into the room, followed by a gentleman Gertie had never seen before. It was so unusual for her grandfather to come home before the afternoon when he went out, that until she saw his face Gertie hardly believed it could be he. Her cheeks were still crimson with the blushes Polly had raised, but she had been reared in an atmosphere of deception, and quick as thought she picked up a canary-cage and began to extol the beauties of the occupant to Miss Adrian. ‘I think you’ll like this one, ma’am,’ she said. ‘It’s a capital singer.’ Then, turning to her grandfather, she said, innocently, ‘This lady wants a canary, grandfather; this is as good a one as we have, isn’t it? ‘Yes,’ growled the old man; ‘the gal knows her business, ma’am,’ He eyed Ruth as suspiciously as if she had been a female detective. Ruth was looking over the canaries in the corner as Heckett and his companion entered, but when the old man spoke to her she turned round. Then, for the first time, the stranger and she stood face to face. The gentleman was the first to speak. ‘Good heavens, Ruth, what brings you here? he cried, starting forward as though to take her hand, then stopping short and dropping his head. ‘Edward—I beg your pardon, Mr. Marston!’ stammered Ruth, blushing crimson and trembling violently. Gertie and her grandfather looked on in astonishment.