“Then you never heard either your father or mother mention any other name than Bright—I mean in connection with yourselves?” said Ruth in a disappointed tone.
“Never, Miss, as I can reck’lect on. I would willin’ly say yes, to please you, but I’d raither not tell no lies.”
“That’s right my good boy,” said Mrs Dotropy, with a stately but approving nod, “for you know where all liars go to.”
“Yes, ma’am, an’ I knows where liars don’t go to,” returned Billy, looking up with pious resignation, whereat the Miss Seawards and Ruth burst into a laugh.
It must not be supposed that Billy meant to be profane, but he had taken a dislike to Mrs Dotropy, and did not choose to be patronised by her.
As poor Ruth found that it was useless to pursue her investigations in this direction further, she changed the subject to the North Sea fishery, with the details of which her little friend was of course quite conversant. Then she proposed to accompany Billy home.
“I want to make the acquaintance of your father,” she said.
“Ah! he’s a true blue now, he is,” said Billy.
“Was your father not always a true blue?” asked Ruth, as they went along the street together.
“Well, it ain’t right for me to say ought agin my father—but—he’s true blue now, anyhow.”