‘I will, mother,’ answered Ruth, a shade of annoyance in her tone. ‘I’ll find a home for the poor child to-day.’
‘There are plenty of refuges and reformatories, I’m sure, where they’d be glad to take her. There are places advertised in the paper every day.’
‘You shan’t be troubled with her long, mother.’
Ruth took up the paper as she spoke, and began to read the advertisement-sheet.
She had a dim idea that she might find some place advertised which would afford her little protégée a temporary asylum.
Glancing listlessly over the advertisements, she suddenly gave, a little cry, and her face flushed crimson.
‘Whatever’s the matter now, Ruth?’ asked Mrs. Adrian, pouring tea into the slop-basin instead of her cup in her astonishment.
‘Nothing!’ stammered Ruth; ‘nothing at all!’
She endeavoured to hide her confusion, and kept her face behind the paper, reading one paragraph over and over again:
‘Lost, a pocket-book containing a cheque. Anyone bringing the same to Mr. Edward Marston, Eden Villa, Camden Road, will be handsomely rewarded.’