ttentively in her face, which, now that the
colour was restored and the dishevelled hair rearranged, had a very
peculiar effect on him. His mother's idea of a "waux doll" instantly
recurred to his mind, but the interest and intelligence in Susy's pretty
face was very far indeed removed from the vacant imbecility which
usually characterises that fancy article of juvenile luxury.

"Of course if the girl wishes you to see her home," said the inspector,
"I have no objection, but I'll send a constable to help you to take care
of her."

"Help _me_ to tak' care o' her!" exclaimed David, whose pride was sorely
hurt by the distrust implied in these words; "man, I could putt her in
my pooch an' _you_ alang wi' her."

Of this remark Mr Inspector, who had resumed his pen, took no notice
whatever, but went on writing while one of the constables prepared to
obey his superior's orders. In his indignation the young Scot resolved
to fling out of the office and leave the police to do as they pleased in
the matter, but, glancing at Susy as he turned round, he again met the
gaze of her soft blue eyes.

"C'way, lassie, I _wull_ gang wi' ye," he said, advancing quickly and
offering his arm.

Being weak from the effects of her fall, Susy accepted the offer
willingly, and was supported on the other side by a policeman.

In a short time the trio ascended the rookery stair and presented
themselves to the party in the garret-garden just as Sam Blake and Tommy
Splint were about to leave it.

It is impossible to describe adequately the scene that ensued--the
anxiety of the poor seaman to be recognised by his long lost "babby,"
the curious but not unnatural hesitancy of that "babby" to admit that he
_was_ her father, though earnestly assured of the fact by chimney-pot
Liz; the surprise of David Laidlaw, and even of the policeman, at being
suddenly called to witness so interesting a domestic scene, and the
gleeful ecstasy of Tommy Splint over the whole affair--flavoured as it
was with the smell and memory of recent "sassengers."

When the constable at last bid them good-night and descended the stair,
the young Scot turned to go, feeling, with intuitive delicacy, that he
was in the way, but once again he met the soft blue eyes of Susy, and
hesitated.

"Hallo, young man!" cried Sam Blake, on observing his intention, "you
ain't agoin' to leave us--arter saving my gal's life, p'raps--anywise
her property. No, no; you'll stop here all night