Mr. and Mrs. Cloudesley were at breakfast the next morning, when past the window went Ralph Trulock, and by his side, holding by his hand, and chattering gaily, with dark eyes raised fearlessly to the stern old face, was the loveliest boy, May declared, that she had ever seen.
"See how well the spell works," said Gilbert.
"I knew Trulock had a kind heart," she replied, "if I could only get at it. He speaks of his wife so tenderly."
"These children are finding their way to it, I suspect," answered Mr. Cloudesley. "Now, May, let them quite alone. Trulock will be the better for being left to manage everything for himself."
"Oh, yes," said May; "but I suppose I may look at that boy when I go to the school for the singing!"
In a few days, Ralph received the following answer from Mr. Mordan:
"DEAR SIR,—"
"I know nothing more of the late Frederick Garland than the facts with which, from your letter, I suppose you to be already acquainted. Thirteen or fourteen years ago, he saved my son's life, the ship in which they had taken passages for Canada being wrecked off the coast of Ireland. My son did not go to Canada at all, and therefore saw nothing of Garland until I became the senior, and he the junior partner of our firm, and then he begged of me to find a situation for this young man, as he had ascertained that he had not got on well in America. Garland came to Bordeaux at once; but as he was no accountant, though evidently an educated man, I could give him nothing better than a place as what you call a storekeeper, which he filled for eight years, giving every satisfaction as to honesty and general good character. I know nothing more of him, and my son, who is at present absent, travelling in the East, does not, to the best of my belief, know anything that could assist you in your search for his relatives. The girl he married here was an orphan, and had no relatives living. Garland stated to me that he hoped to remain in England with his father; but he said no more than this. He left no debts here, nor is there anything due to him; but I always fancied he was saving money, as, though in receipt of a good salary, he lived in a very economical way. He must have had some drain upon his income of which I am ignorant."
"I remain,"
"Your obedient servant,"
"OLIVER MORDAN, Senior."
And the advertisement in the Times was put in again and again, till it had cost quite a little fortune, and yet it never was answered. Ruth and Ollie seemed to be abandoned by all the world, except poor "crusty" Ralph Trulock, who at first grudged every sixpence they cost him. But Ruth had crept into his heart, and Ollie was such a bright, innocent, creature—the more he saw of them, the more he loved them. And they loved him, which was not wonderful, as every little pleasure they enjoyed that summer came from him. The Sunday dinner party became quite an institution: first came church, then dinner, then a long walk in the Forest.
Ruth worked hard all the week, but as Ollie got his dinner at school, and many a little present came from Ralph, she got on very well. Her black calico wore out, and she did not replace it, but wore a coloured dress; quietly remarking that "Father would not mind, because he knew she loved him as well as ever." Ralph said something about her father "not knowing," but Ruth, after a little distressed thought, smiled and answered,—
"Would not the angels tell him? You know they come and go still, though we cannot see them; and he would be sure to ask questions about Ollie and me. They will have told him that although we could not find our grandfather, God has given us a good friend."