When little Ruby had gone away for her drive with her mother, she sat down in the quiet nursery and resigned herself to thought.
Her thought went back to the gray, old hall in the sunny south, and the kind, old man she had deserted. She wondered if he would forgive her, and pray for her that she might find her mother.
"I shall never find her now," she thought. "I have lost my money, and it will be a long time before I can earn enough to resign my situation here, and try to find her. Mrs. Markham was so sweet and kind. I wonder if she would help me. But, no, she would scorn me like all the rest, if she knew the story of my poor, young mother's disgrace."
"Good-morning, little Mary. Where is my daughter this morning?" said a clear, musical voice.
Golden looked up with a start, and saw Mr. Desmond, standing, tall, debonair and handsome, in the center of the lofty apartment. He had entered and closed the door so softly that she had not heard a sound.
"Miss Ruby has gone out driving with her mother," she answered.
"Ah," said Mr. Desmond. "I suppose she will not be gone long, so I will wait here until she returns."
He drew forward a chair quite close to hers. Golden regarded him in surprise.
"Miss Ruby was very anxious that you should go with her, but her mother said you had a business engagement this morning and could not find time to gratify her," she remarked to him, rather pointedly.
He flushed, then laughed carelessly.