For quite a week Ruth enjoyed herself thoroughly. Mrs. Prosser's house was a bright one. She entertained a great deal, more especially now that she had such a charming friend to amuse and to amuse her. That young lady made amends for Neil's desertion of her, and for Geoffrey's absence, by flirting to her heart's content, and consigning many youths to various stages of despair at what they were pleased to call her fickleness. But she never lost sight of her main object, which was to drop down on Mrs. Jent without giving that old lady warning of her coming. She would take her entirely by surprise. Accordingly, on the plea that she was going to see her old nurse, Ruth took the train to _Bognor_, and Mrs. Jent welcomed her visitor with open arms. Nor indeed--not having been warned--did she conceal the fact that Mr. Webster was ill in the house and that Geoffrey was nursing him. "My dear, how pleased I am to see you!" she cried, settling her spectacles on her nose. "And quite the young lady, too! How good of you, my lovey, not to forget your old nurse." "As if I ever could," Ruth said, graciously. "And tell me what you are doing with yourself?" "Just living, my dear, just living. What with a boarder or two and the money your dear papa allows me I rub along." "Have you any boarders now?" asked the girl, more for the sake of saying something than because she felt any interest in the subject. "Well, not what you would call boarders, perhaps," said the old lady, rubbing one withered hand over the other. "At least, one of them isn't, he is my dear boy Neil." "Neil!" with unbounded astonishment, "Neil Webster! Why, he is abroad." "No such thing. He is here, my lovey, and has been for two months. Abroad? Why, the poor darling has been at death's door! Aye, and he would have entered it, too, if Mr. Heron had not----" "Heron? Geoffrey Heron?" "Yes, dear, that is him, Heaven bless him. Do you----" "Geoffrey Heron here?" interrupted the girl rather to herself than to the old woman. "Why, he wrote to tell me that he was on the Continent. What does all this mean, I wonder?" "It's not hard to tell the meaning," said Mrs. Jent. "My boy Neil fell ill, had brain fever, poor lad, and Mr. Heron brought him here from London that I might nurse him, and he stayed with me. He is almost as fond of my dear boy as I am." "Is he?" said Ruth, blankly. Considering that the two men were, or had been, rivals for her hand, she could not quite take all this in. "Of course he is," said the old woman, with great energy. "A better gentleman I never wish to see." "And is Mr. Webster here?" "In the next room, in the most beautiful sleep. I daresay you would like to see him, my dear, for he has often talked of you. But I daren't wake him, it would be dangerous. Mr. Heron has gone to Worthing. Will you wait till he comes back?" "I might," replied Ruth, thinking that she would like to prove to Heron that she was no fool. "Has he also spoken of me?"