He had gone for two weeks to visit his father and mother at their summer home near Portsmouth, and before he went he took her in his arms and told her how ashamed he was of his bad temper at the idea of her going on the _Mohave_, and said that she might go; that he did trust her anywhere, and that he was trying to learn to concede to her the same liberty of action and of choice that any man enjoyed. But she convinced him very sweetly that she really had no desire to go, and sent him off to Spindrift House happy, and madly in love; which resulted in two letters a day from him, and in her passing long evenings in confidential duets with Rita Tevis. Rita had taken the bedroom next to Valerie's, and together they had added the luxury of a tiny living room to the suite. It was the first time that either had ever had any place in which to receive anybody; and now, delighted to be able to ask people, they let it be known that their friends could have tea with them. Ogilvy and Annan had promptly availed themselves. "This is exceedingly grand," said Ogilvy, examining everything in a tour around the pretty little sitting room. "We can have all kinds of a rough house now." And he got down on his hands and knees in the middle of the rug and very gravely turned a somersault. "Sam! Behave! Or I'll set my parrot on you!" exclaimed Valerie. Ogilvy sat up and inspected the parrot. "You know," he said, "I believe I've seen that parrot somewhere." "Impossible, my dear friend--unless you've been in my bedroom." Ogilvy got up, dusted his trowsers, and walked over to the parrot. "Well it looks like a bird I used to know--I--it certainly resembles--" He hesitated, then addressing the bird: "Hello, Leparello--you old scoundrel!" he said, cautiously. "Forget it!" muttered the bird, cocking his head and lifting first one slate-coloured claw from his perch, then the other;--"forget it! Help! Oh, very well. God bless the ladies!" "_Where_ on earth did you ever before see my parrot?" asked Valerie, astonished. Ogilvy appeared to be a little out of countenance, too. "Oh, I really don't remember exactly where I did see him," he tried to explain; and nobody believed him. "Sam! Answer me!" "Well, where did _you_ get him?" "José Querida gave Leparello to me." Annan and Ogilvy exchanged the briefest glance--a perfectly blank glance. "It probably isn't the same bird," said Ogilvy, carelessly. "There are plenty of parrots that talk--plenty of 'em named Leparello, probably." "Sam, how _can_ you be so untruthful! Rita, hold him tightly while I pull his ears!" It was a form of admonition peculiarly distasteful to Ogilvy, and he made a vain effort to escape. "Now, Sam, the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth! Quick, or I'll tweak!" "All right, then," he said, maliciously, "Querida's got relatives in Oporto who send him these kind of parrots occasionally. He names 'em all Leparello, teaches 'em all the same jargon, and--gives 'em to girls!"