Bert smiled. It was impossible for him to be angry with a parrot, however impolite the bird might be.
Just then a lady entered the room—a lady of middle size and middle age, plain in feature, but not unpleasant to look upon.
"Did you wish to see me, sir?" she asked.
"Are you the sister of Ralph Harding?" asked Bert.
The woman's face changed instantly.
"Yes," she answered eagerly. "Do you bring me any news of him? He is not in trouble, is he?"
It was Bert's turn to be surprised.
"I thought he was staying with you," he said.
"Not now."
"But he has been here. He came here from Harrisburg, didn't he?"