Lottie pursed her lips. "Fine." she said removing her apron and tossing it over the back of a chair.

"Let me get a shawl. Get ye cap."

Bill did as he was told, and didn't say another word as they were off. As he walked, he was beginning to feel angrier. The pain that girl had caused her mother! Left! Without a word! Had anyone even encountered such an ungrateful daughter!? And now when she was in trouble, she was trying to reconcile with mum and dad! He walked fast, taking long strides. Had she any idea of what she had done to her family?!

As she awaited her parents, she rested. As much as she wanted to talk, she was just plain worn out.

"William, slow down!" Lottie called after her husband as walked to meet Ruth.

Bill stopped at turned around. "Hurry up," he said, before realizing that that was probably not a nice thing to say.

She was starting to wonder if they would be coming or not and waited quietly, doing her best to keep the little one calm because he started crying lustily. One might even hear it outside.

The older Blacke's eventually arrived at the address on the note. Lottie was going to have a private word with Bill later about his attitude on the walk over here. Knocking on the door, they were greeted by a maid, who seemed far too pretty to being working as one.

"Hello, we're Mister and Missus Blacke. We're 'ere to collect Ruth." Lottie announced to the girl. Was that the sound of a baby crying?

"Oh, right this way please," she said after answering the door. She led the pair toward the room where their daughter was ensconced. The baby continued to cry and squirm angrily. She didn't say anything about the child, she figured they would be surprised enough without her saying anything. She did say, "Her bags are in the foyer. I can get them for you." And then she disappeared back in the direction they had come from.

He could hear a child cry and his heart sank. And then when he was led into the room it was confirmed. He looked at his daughter, the young woman whom he had thought was nothing but a girl when she suddenly ran away from home. And now she was a mother. "Bloody hell, Ruth," he said, not shouting, not angry, but defeated.

Yikes, this was awkward. Tristan stood in the corner of the room. "You'll be glad to hear your daughter and the child are both healthy," he said in an uncomfortably cheerful tone.

Maybe it was time for a holiday.

"I'll... give you a moment." And he left the room, though he stayed close by, just in case.