Mr. Gurth Egerton, as soon as he had recovered from the astonishment in which his strange meeting with Ralph’s little daughter had flung him, became aware of the fact that the beautiful face of Ruth Adrian had made a considerable impression upon him.

By what strange coincidence, he wondered, did this child cross his path at the very moment that he was dreaming of a new life—a life from which all remembrance of the past and all fear of the future were to be banished?

This little Gertie Heckett, whom he had always avoided seeing, lest such conscience as he was burdened with might be troubled, had come upon him not in the den of Josh, not leading the miserable life which he had imagined she might one day be reduced to, but well dressed, hearty, and evidently well cared for.

His first thought was one of self-congratulation. He felt inclined to pat himself on the back and say, ‘See, you have done no harm to the orphan. If you are enjoying that which may by chance belong to her, she does not suffer through your act.’

Having at last, by a process of reasoning, worked himself up into the actual benefactor of his cousin’s child, he began to wonder what the connection between her and Ruth Adrian might be.

He had two motives for following up the adventure of the charity bazzar,—first, to find out something about Gertie, and secondly, if possible, to cultivate the acquaintance of Ruth Adrian. Where Miss Adrian lived, or who she was, he had not the slightest idea; but he imagined he could very soon get a link through the child.

The first idea was to look up Heckett and question him about Gertie; but he had a repugnance to renewing the acquaintance. He had studiously kept clear of Heckett, and he did not care to mix himself up again with that portion of the past. He determined to rely upon his usual diplomatist, and lay the case before Oliver Birnie.

But when he came to tell Birnie where he had met the child, the doctor was utterly astonished.

‘I haven’t seen Heckett since he was ill,’ he said, ‘and then Gertie was at Little Queer Street. If she’s left him, he’s either given up the crib and gone away, or Gertie has taken French leave. But I can soon find out, if you particularly wish to know.’

Birnie made his inquiries in his own way, and then all he had to tell Gurth was that Gertie had ‘run away,’ and that the old man had shut up the Little Queer Street establishment, and had not been seen for some little time in the neighbourhood.

This information brought Gurth no nearer to an introduction to Miss Adrian, so he had to set his wits to work again.

But before he could think of a plan, chance did away with the necessity.

Marston, who now studiously cultivated his acquaintance, was walking with him one day, when a big dog came round the corner.

Marston looked hard at it, and exclaimed, ‘Hullo! Ruth isn’t far off; here’s Gertie Heckett’s dog.’

Gurth clutched his arm.

‘Ruth—Gertie Heckett!’ he cried. ‘Good gracious me, how could I have been so stupid? Why, of course you can tell me all about it. How comes the child away from Josh?’

Marston looked under his eyes at his companion.

‘How should I know anything about Josh Heckett’s domestic; affairs?’ he said coldly.

‘Why you see him, I suppose, now and then?’

‘My dear fellow, I thought you knew that I had cut all that crew long ago. I know no more of him than you do.’

‘Well, at any rate you know Gertie Heckett, for you mentioned her name.’

‘Of course I know her,’ answered Marston, speaking slowly and deliberately, ‘but only through her protectress, Miss Adrian. Gertie has been “rescued”—I believe that is the correct expression—and the Adrians have adopted her. The Adrians are old friends of mine.’

Gurth said ‘Oh,’ and was silent.

He couldn’t understand that beautiful creature being an old friend of dare-devil Ned Marston.

Lion had come on well ahead, and it was fully two minutes before Gertie and Ruth came out of a shop and found themselves face to face with Marston and Gurth.

Ruth coloured slightly as the two gentlemen lifted their hats, and Gertie, recognizing Gurth, exclaimed, ‘Oh, it’s the gentleman that bought the violets.’

Gertie did not seem at all astonished when Marston held out his hand to Ruth.

It was evident that this was not the first meeting between the old sweethearts at which she had assisted.

‘Will you allow me to introduce my old friend, Mr. Gurth Egerton?’ said Marston.

Gurth bowed again, and Ruth honoured him with a sweet smile. And presently the three were strolling along the street talking together, Gertie walking on a little way ahead with Lion.

But Ruth cut short the interview by saying that Gertie and she had some calls to make, and Marston, taking the hint, said ‘Good-day,’ and, taking Gurth’s arm, left the ladies to finish their business by themselves.

‘What do you think of her?’ asked Marston, when they were out of ear-shot.

‘Think of her?’ said Gurth; ‘why, that she’s one of the most charming women I ever met in my life. I was awfully struck with her at the bazaar the other day.’

‘Yes, my boy,’ answered Marston; ‘and she’s as good as she is beautiful.’

‘You know her very well, then?’

Marston looked at Gurth for a moment, and then said quietly, ‘My dear fellow, I thought I told you we were old friends. I’m glad you like Ruth, for when we’re married you can come and be our guest.’

Gurth started back as though Marston had struck him a blow.

‘That lady—your wife?’ he stammered.

‘Yes, some day; why not?’ said Marston. ‘I’m doing well, I’m wealthy, and I shall soon command a good position. Why shouldn’t I marry Ruth Adrian?’

‘I don’t know,’ stammered Gurth, hardly knowing what he was saying. ‘Why, I always looked upon you as a—as a——’

‘Say it,’ cried Marston fiercely; ‘say it, Gurth Egerton. You always looked upon me as a scamp, as a penniless adventurer. Bah! Times have changed for both of us. You are a rich man now; you are ambitious, so am I. I have wiped out my old past as cleanly as you have yours. Let it be a race between us now if you like, Gurth Egerton—a race for wealth, a race for fame, for what you will. I shall beat you though you’ve had a ten years start of me.’

Gurth Egerton looked at his companion in wonder. His tone was one half of triumph, half of defiance.

‘As you will, Marston,’ he said quietly; ‘but let us start fair. Is there any absolute engagement between you and this lady?’

‘No,’ said Marston; ‘but she is perfectly aware of my feelings towards her. We were engaged before—well, before I went abroad.’

‘Oh, I see; then you merely hope for a renewal of old ties?’

‘That is what I have set my heart on, and I generally accomplish my ends.’

‘Good, answered Gurth, lighting a cigarette, and offering one to his companion. ‘We are both men of the world. Now listen. You say, let it be a race between us for wealth and fame. Well, wealth I have, and fame I can buy. Wealth you say you have, and Ï have no doubt if you haven’t it at present you mean to have it. Let us make this race more exciting.’

What do you mean?’

‘Merely this,’ said Gurth, watching Marston keenly through the smoke, ‘make Ruth Adrian’s hand part of the stakes.’ Marston’s face flushed angrily.

‘A bad joke, Egerton,’ he said, ‘and one you may be sorry for.

‘No joke, Marston; I mean it. In my quiet way I have fallen in love with the lady, and I am in want of a wife. All’s fair in love and war, and I don’t think you have a chance. Therefore why spoil mine?’

Marston was on the point of giving a fierce reply but he suddenly checked himself. He could fence better if he kept his temper.

‘You were always a laboured joker, Gurth,’ he said, ‘but it won’t do. You have found it easy enough to get a fortune from Ralph, but I don t think you’ll find it so easy to get a sweetheart from me, not even with Birnie s assistance.’

Marston laughed an irritating little laugh, nodded his head and walked away, leaving Gurth with a flushed face and clenched hand.

It was half a threat, and Gurth felt it. In his own mind he believed that Marston was still an adventurer, and that his house of cards would soon come to grief. He had an idea that money could do anything, and he was quite prepared to find Marston throwing ont a hint that he would leave the field clear for a consideration.

The conversation of the morning had invested Ruth with new charms, and the sudden opposition which he had encountered in Marston had concentrated his designs.

Ruth Adrian now became the central figure in his future.

The idea of Marston daring to stop between him and the accomplishment of his project was too absurd. He would soon put that right.

‘Threaten me, do you!’ he muttered to himself, as he turned towards home. ‘Mr. Edward Marston, you must be looked after. Birds that want to fly over their neighbours’ walls must have their wings clipped.’

Pending an opportunity of becoming better acquainted with Ruth Adrian, Gurth occupied himself by developing his bump of curiosity. He was particularly anxious to discover the history of Mr. Edward Marston from the time he went to America, a broken-down adventurer, to the period of his recognition of Dr. Birnie, and his sudden blooming into the possessor of a suburban villa, a boundless ambition, and a remarkably handsome and agreeable sweetheart.

Was she his sweetheart? On mature consideration, Gurth Egerton decided that he had been taken in by Marston’s brag. The idea of his really being a man of wealth and engaged to a lady like Ruth was too absurd.

‘Marston’s a clever fellow,’ he said to himself, ‘and as unscrupulous as any man I ever knew; but I don’t think I need trouble myself much about his opposition. He always was a braggart, and I dare say he’s only trying to impose on me for some purpose of his own.’

A week later Gurth Egerton had managed to render Ruth a service, and to become a welcome guest at the house.

He had heard a portion of Gertie’s story from Ruth, and had undertaken to see Heckett and secure from him an undertaking to leave the child unmolested in the care of her new friends.

Ruth was very grateful for this service; she had hesitated to ask Marston, and she had not dared herself to open negotiations, as that would have at once revealed the child’s whereabouts.

Gurth had gone himself to Heckett, to the only address he knew, the Little Queer Street one, and had found the place shut up. He inquired of Birnie, but that gentleman could tell him nothing. For some reason or other Mr. Heckett had cut all his old acquaintances.

Gurth was determined to know if possible, so he ascertained Marston’s address and went round to him.

He was struck with the comfort and taste of Eden Villa, and he began to think that perhaps, after all, Marston had had a windfall.

He was received with easy courtesy, and Marston rather enjoyed the astonishment under which his visitor was evidently labouring.

‘By Jove, Ned, I’d no idea you were such a swell as this!’ said Gurth, looking about him.

‘It isn’t a bad crib,’ answered Marston quietly; ‘but I’m looking about for an estate in the country; I’m tired of town life. I want to get among the county families, you know, and run for the House as a Tory squire.’

Gurth stared first, and then he burst out laughing.

‘What a chap you are, Ned,’ he exclaimed; ‘why you talk as if you were a millionaire.’

‘All right, my boy,’ answered Marston, rising, and standing with his back to the fireplace; ‘chaff away. You’ve seen me at the bottom of the tree, I know, but if you live long enough you’ll see me at the top.’

Something in Marston’s manner checked the smile that came to Gurth’s lip.

‘I hope so,’ he said. ‘I’m sure I shall be very glad, for the sake of old times. But while you are climbing up your tree, perhaps you wouldn’t mind doing me a service.’

‘Name it.’

‘Well, I particularly want Josh Heckett’s present address.’

‘How should I know? I saw him once after I returned, that’s all.’

‘He’s left Little Queer Street.’

‘Has he, indeed?’ said Marston quite unconcernedly. ‘Why are you so anxious to find him? Do you want to make him a present, or to chat over old times?’

‘Neither; I want to see him about the child.’

‘Ah,’ said Marston, ‘pricking of conscience, eh? I always thought, considering all things, you might have done something for Gertie’s young un.’

‘What do you mean by “considering all things “?’

‘As if you didn’t know that Gertie is Ralph’s child!’

Gurth’s face went suddenly pale, and his lips trembled as he stammered out some unintelligible words.

Marston was utterly astonished at the effect his remark had produced, and he instantly suspected there was some secret connected with Gertie the discovery of which Gurth had reason to dread. Perhaps Ralph had left her something in his will But whatever Marston thought, he was too good a diplomatist to say anything. He waited till Gurth had recovered his composure and pretended not to notice his confusion.

‘That’s all nonsense,’ said Gurth, with an effort. ‘I’m quite sure you’re wrong.’

‘Very likely,’ answered Marston. ‘It was only an idea of mine—a passing fancy. What is it you want to know about the child, now?’

Gurth hesitated. He was inclined to believe that Marston’s story about Ruth was a pure fabrication. Still he hardly liked to say that he wanted to see Heckett on behalf of Gertie’s new friend.

‘What do I want to know about the child?’ he said, after a pause. ‘Oh, nothing much. I only wanted to see if I could do anything for her. She struck me as being a very intelligent little thing.’

‘Very,’ answered Marston; ‘but she in very good hands now. Ruth is as good as a mother to her.’

The familiar use of the Christian name grated on Gurth’s ears.

‘Yes; but I presume Miss Adrian does not propose to keep her always, and I thought——’

‘You need not trouble yourself about Gertie Heckett, my dear fellow,’ answered Marston, lighting a cigar. ‘I shall look after her. Her story’s a very sad one, and I like to do good when I can. I’m going in for being a friend to the orphan, and I shall begin with Gertie Heckett.’

‘You don’t mean it?’

‘I do, my boy, seriously. If you want a field for your benevolence you must look elsewhere. I object to your adopting Gertie—or Ruth. You’ll excuse me now, won’t you? I’m going out of town by the afternoon train.’

Gurth Egerton took the hint and his departure, more than ever unable to make his old comrade out.

Marston went down, by the afternoon train to Dover, where he had an important appointment; and on the journey he began to think about Gurth.

‘He’s sweet on Ruth, evidently,’ he thought. ‘If this job comes off right, I must go in and win at once. With a wife like that it will be my own fault if I don’t go ahead. Fancy Gurth trying to cut me out there! How strangely things come about!’

From Gurth and Ruth, Marston’s thoughts wandered to Gertie. He was morally certain she was Ralph’s child. But of course Gurth was not responsible for that, and there was no proof. Why was Garth so upset by what he said? He had at any rate found out a weak point in his rival’s armour, and he was not the man to lose sight of the fact if it ever came to fighting.