Mrs. Crawford nodded her head in a satisfied manner, and said:
"The more likely you are to be a friend of Miss Bidaud's. Well, sir, it happened that Mr. Gilbert Bidaud was going to pay a flying visit to several foreign places, and, of course, was going to take my young lady with him. He never lets her out of his sight if he can help it, but Emily is very nearly a match for him. I don't say quite, but very nearly, Emily is clever. Mr. Bidaud made a great fuss about taking the bird and the cage with them on this journey, and wanted my young lady to leave it behind, but she wouldn't, and proposed instead that Emily should have her holiday while they were away and should take care of the bird and take it back when her holiday was over. That is how the bird came to be here. Eight months ago it was, and Emily was away on a visit, when a man with a great ugly bear came to the house and began to ask questions about the bird. He said just what you said, that it was an old friend of his, and that he'd trained it for my young lady in Australia. He knew my young lady's name, and he wanted me to tell him where she was to be found. Well, sir, I don't know how it was, but I got suspicious of him. What business could a common-looking man like him have with a young lady like Miss Bidaud? As like as not he wanted to impose upon her, and it wasn't for me to help him to do that. It didn't look well, did it, sir, that a man going about the country with a bear should be trapesing after my young lady? So I was very short with him, and I refused to tell him anything, but said if he liked to come in a day or two Emily would be home, and then he could speak to her about my young lady. He went away, after leaving his name--Corrie, it was--and I never set eyes on him again. That seemed to prove I'd done right, but I hadn't, for Emily said, when she came home, that my young lady thought a good deal of this Mr. Corrie, and had often spoken of him, and that he did train and give her the bird, just as he said he had. Emily said my young lady would be very sorry when she heard I'd turned Mr. Corrie away, and that she would give a good deal if she could see the poor man. Every letter I get from my daughter she asks me if I've seen anything more of Mr. Corrie, and to be sure if I do to tell him where my young lady is stopping. I could beat myself with vexation when I think of it. Perhaps you could tell me something of him, as you were all in Australia at the same time."
"I can. He is here with me in Bournemouth."
"Here in Bournemouth, sir! Oh, what a relief you have given me!"
"He told you a true story, Mrs. Crawford, every word of it, and is a sterling, honest fellow. You see how wrong it is to judge people by their appearance."
"Perhaps it is, sir," said Mrs. Crawford, a little doubtfully, and added, with excusable flattery, "I judged you by yours, sir. I hope you will bring Mr. Corrie here, but not his bear, sir, and I'll beg his pardon."
"No need to do that; Corrie is the last man to blame you for doing what you believed to be right. As for the poor bear, it is dead. I will go and fetch Corrie presently, and you can make it up with him; but tell me now where Miss Bidaud is to be found."
"She is in Switzerland, with her uncle and aunt, sir."
"I want the exact address, Mrs. Crawford, if you please."
"Here it is, sir, on a piece of paper. It is my Emily's writing, sir."