Since the accidental meeting with Marston at the house of the dog-fancier, Heckett, Ruth Adrian had avoided the place. The sight of her old sweetheart had opened the floodgates of memory, and the torrent sweeping over her had washed away all that time in ten long years had piled above the remains of the hurried love. Once more it lay bare; once more her heart was filled with it. Her love had been so earnest, so real, it had permeated her whole being. It had been a task almost superhuman to crush it, but once she believed she had succeeded.

Devoted to her father and mother, occupying all her spare time in acts of quiet benevolence, she had managed to find in the new life she led a means of distraction and forgetfulness of the past. But, at the sight of the idol she had so ruthlessly shattered, the structure she had reared to hide the empty pedestal crumbled away, and the work of years was undone.

The meeting with her discarded lover at Heckett’s had seriously alarmed her. All through the years, hearing nothing, she had hoped that he might have altered his course of life, and in the new world to which he had gone found some good woman to be his wife who would have led him gently back into the path of rectitude.

Now she knew that her hopes had not been realized. She had seen enough of the world to know that men like Marston did not associate with men like Heckett for any good. In her visits to Gertie she had gathered from the child’s innocent chatter enough to feel certain that the animals were only a blind to hide the real nature of the burly old ruffian’s business. Lying awake night after night, she pictured Marston as the leader of some desperate gang of men at war with society. She knew that his talents, if misapplied, would enable him to carry crime into the region of the fine arts, and she dreaded to think of the ultimate fate of one who had been the hero of her girlhood’s dream.

Gradually she worked herself into the belief that she was responsible for this man’s sinful life. God had flung him across her path in order that she might rescue him. Perhaps she ought to have married him, and by her influence have won him from wickedness. A glorious work had been committed to her hand, and she had shrunk back like a coward. Was it too late now? Ruth Adrian shuddered as she pictured Marston hurried into crime, reckless of everything, because of her conduct to him. How could she atone now for the evil she had unwittingly wrought?

Anxieties and distress of mind began to affect her health, and the old people noticing her pale face and haggard look, besought her not to overwork herself by her constant labours among the poor. Talking of these labours the name of Gertie Heckett came up one morning at breakfast.

Ruth, with a blush of shame, confessed she had not seen the child for a fortnight.

Mr. Adrian was astonished.

‘Why, my dear,’ he said kindly, ‘I thought little Gertie was your favourite pupil.’

‘So she was, papa; but I—I haven’t been well enough to go there lately.’

Ruth stammered and blushed, for the fact had dawned upon her that she was neglecting Gertie, and leaving the child alone and exposed to the pernicious influences of her old surroundings.

‘I have put my hand to the plough and turned back,’ she thought. Already the influence of Marston was asserting itself. To her dread of meeting him she had sacrificed the little friendless child whose future so much depended on her constant care.

‘I will hesitate no longer,’ said Ruth to herself. ‘It is the Lord who has flung this man across the pathway of my life again. With God’s help it shall be for good and not for evil.’

Later in the day, as Gertie sat upstairs talking to Lion of the good lady that never came now, Ruth Adrian pushed the door open and walked in quietly.

Gertie, with a cry of delight, jumped up and ran to her, lifting her little face to Ruth, and Lion, leaping up, placed his huge forepaws on her shoulder, and gave a deep bark of welcome.

‘Oh, Miss Adrian!’ exclaimed Gertie, as with flushed, happy cheeks she sat down by Ruth’s side and gently drew Lion down into his proper place in the ‘class,’ ‘we were afraid you were ill. Lion and I have watched day after day, and we’ve said our lessons over for fear we should forget them.’

It was Gertie’s firm belief that Lion did say his lessons, and that his education was progressing rapidly. If he didn’t understand everything she told him about history and geography, why did he always wag his tail?

‘And do you know, Miss Adrian,’ Gertie went on, when Ruth had explained her absence as well as she could, ‘the parrot’s getting much better. He swears a little still, but I’ve taught him some good words, and he uses them now instead of the bad ones.’

‘Bless your eyes!’ shrieked Polly, rubbing his beak against the cage.

‘That’s mueh better than what he used to say about our eyes,’ said Gertie, delighted at Polly’s attainments.

‘Very much,’ answered Miss Adrian, with a smile. ‘But I suppose he isn’t quite cured yet.’

‘Oh, no, not quite, but nearly. You know I fancy grandfather made him swear, and grandfather’s very little here now. Since that gentleman——’

Gertie hesitated. Child as she was she remembered that Miss Adrian had seemed distressed at the sight of Marston.

‘Go on,’ said Ruth, taking Gertie’s hand in hers and listening with a heightened colour. ‘What about that gentleman?’

‘Well, since he came grandfather’s been out a good deal, and I fancy they’ve got important business together.’

The colour faded from Ruth’s cheeks. It was as she feared, then. Marston must be mixed up with very bad company indeed if he and old Heckett had business together.

She questioned Gertie eagerly, and ascertained that Marston had been once or twice, and that he always talked in a low tone with her grandfather. She had heard something once about some gold and thousands of pounds, so she supposed it was very important business.

Gertie’s head was full of other things, however, besides Marston, and she soon left him to chatter about Lion, and the parrot, and the animals, and her lessons, and all the old topics in which Ruth had once taken so mueh interest.

Ruth let her prattle on, but her thoughts were far away. She seemed as though she were thinking out some plan of action.

Suddenly she stopped Gertie in the middle of a long aneedote about Lion and a eat, and said in a serious voiee,—

‘Gertie, will you do me a very great service?’

‘Oh, yes, Miss Adrian, anything.’

‘Listen, then. If ever this gentleman who comes here to see your grandfather should, to your knowledge, be in any danger or ill, or if you should hear anything about him that makes you think he wants a friend, will you let me know?’

Gertie said certainly she would.

‘Don’t tell any one I have asked you this, Gertie.’

‘Oh, no! no one shall know it except Lion, and he’s heard what you’ve said, of course.’

‘Oh, I don’t mind Lion; he’s in all our little secrets,’ said Miss Adrian smiling; ‘but I hope Polly will be discreet.’

Gertie laughed at the idea of Polly revealing a secret; and Polly, who had heard its name mentioned, whistled and blessed their eyes for a good five minutes.

Miss Adrian, to satisfy her conscience, gave Gertie a short lesson; but she could not deceive herself. She knew that her visit was more on Marston’s account than on Gertie’s.

When she rose to go, Gertie hoped she would come again soon, and she promised that she would.

‘Perhaps I shall have something to tell you about him, you know,’ said Gertie, archly.

Miss Adrian flushed scarlet. Was it possible she had betrayed herself even to this child?

She stooped down and patted Lion’s head, and then kissed Gertie affectionately.

‘Good-bye, Gertie,’ she said; ‘and remember to let me know if anything happens.’

She got halfway down the stairs, and then the thought struck her, how would Gertie communicate with her. The child did not know where she lived.

She turned back again and wrote her address on a little piece of paper, which she gave to the child, and bade her take care of it and not let any one see it.

Gertie folded the piece of paper, and put it in her bosom.

She followed Miss Adrian downstairs, and watched her up the Dials as far as she could see her; and then she went back and showed Lion the piece of paper, and promised him some day they would go and call on the good, kind lady, and perhaps have tea with her.

From the moment Gertie had it in her power to render Ruth Adrian a service she longed for the opportunity. She almost prayed, that something might happen to Marston in her presence that very day, in order that she might show her good, kind friend how grateful she was, and how faithfully she could keep a promise.