Outside Ruth was leaning over the banister, heavily breathing in and out. Her hair, usually butted up accurately, was now having strains hanging around.

What a mess…Ruth laughed uneasily. If her mother would've seen her now, if she had known what her granddaughter had done…

Had her daughter really just told her that she had married this boy?

I must be fantasizing.

Glancing back, trying to make out something through the half open door of her bedroom, Ruth could see Jack Dawson and his flighty palms placed around her daughter.

I certainly haven't brought her up like this.

"Ruth, are you alright?" Lettice asked her concernedly.

Ruth hadn't noticed her coming.

Her friends they would never look at her the same as before…seventeen years of educating, of teaching, of endless lesson in French, Math…of showing her daughter of how to act like a lady…it had all been useless…everything had been thrown down the drain.

Her eyes stared blankly into space, as she let Lettice drag her downstairs.

They made their way down to the living room, Grace pouring them out some coffee.

Lettice didn't understand any of it. Hadn't Ruth told her that her daughter had died on the Titanic? And who was this boy anyway?

She was too much polite however to just burst out her questions.

"Look, I don't know what everything of this means, but…," she began stopping, when she noted Ruth's eyes glistering with little tears.

Why me?

Why did Rose have to be so complicated? Why couldn't she just accept her role in life? Was it really that horrible to be rich?

Silently Lettice handed her a handkerchief to wipe away her tears.

"How could she do this to me?"

Lettice shot a wondering look, while Ruth snuffled loudly.

"Everything is such a mess," she choked out. "You must be thinking that I'm ungrateful. Rose does too. But I'm not. I'm most thankful that my daughter is alive and well. I have…," Ruth started holding her breath of a second, turning her eyes to her friend suddenly remembering something. "How come that you know him?"

"Mr Dawson?"

Ruth silently nodded.

"At the train station on our day of arrival…some man had stolen my purse and he brought it back to me…Ella was instantly fond of him and convinced me to hire him," she explained.

Ruth shook her head. It was so typical, just so classic. The poor Mr Dawson saving the day…

"I must admit that I was thankful at first…of course I had no idea, who he really was…if I had, I would've never…," Lettice quickly reassured her friend.

Ruth let her words sink in.

Just as she was about to reply something, her daughter and this boy were standing beside them. Her daughter looked at her angrily. If only Rose wouldn't be so gullible. Maybe it was his looks?

Girls her age were of course attracted to boys like him. Ruth hoped that with time Rose would realize what a mistake she had made and prayed that it wouldn't be too late by then. Seeing how Rose eyed Jack and having seen the shameful drawing he had made of her daughter, she shuddered, when she thought of what this could've led to.

Rose was so young and he was taking advantage of that.

"I was just mentioning to Ruth how we two met," Lettice found her voice first.

Jack looked over at Ruth, never even releasing his grip on Rose's hand. He glanced at her, proud of her, his wife. His wife…he smiled inwardly at the thought of it.

He knew her so well and because of that he also understood how much she needed her mother right now.

"Rose, I…I'm sorry," she heard her mother choke out.

Was she being serious? Rose eyed her suspiciously.

"I realize how my reaction must've scared you. I never intended for this to happen. You know that I only want what's best for you, don't you?"

Rose already knew what was going to be next. Her mother would never change. How her mother would tell her now glad she could be that she had found Cal and what a great man he was.

"Mr Dawson, may I speak alone with my daughter?" she added.

Really Ruth could be civilized even around Jack, if she wanted something.

"I don't think that this will be necessary, mother. I don't have any secrets of my husband," Rose answered instead of Jack. "I bet Cal never told you the whole truth, right?"

Jack gulped, was she being serious?

"He was shooting at us," she continued.

Indeed she was.

"And chased us through the sinking ship…"

"Rose, what are you talking about?"

Had she completely lost her mind?

"It's unbelievable, isn't…"

Jack stopped her outburst by tightening his grip on her hand.

"Rose, one thing first, alright. Surely your mother needs to know the truth, but we can tell her too while sitting down."

Ruth glared at Jack. Now her daughter would think of him even more of a hero.

Mr Hockley shooting at them…his own fiancée…really how ridiculous could it get?

"As usual, you're right…," Rose smiled up at him.

Lettice had gone out by now, not really wanting to get between them.

Ruth sat down on one side, while Jack and Rose took the other.

"So, Rose told me that you two are married now. I believe that congratulation are in order then," Ruth started.

"Mother!"

"What, Rose, I thought we're about to start over?" she stared at her perplexed. "And that's what I'm doing," she stated moving up, coming to stand in front of Jack. "Mr Dawson, I'd like to welcome you in my family," she spoke up holding out her hand for him.

Jack was clearly stunned, not having seen that coming.

Could he really trust Ruth Dewitt Bukater, who had just an hour ago or so told him to shut up?

When he didn't shake her hand in time, but leaving her dumbfounded, standing there with her mouth open, Ruth once more started to detest him.

"Mr Dawson never knew how to behave in front of wellborn people," came a voice from up the stairs. Rose and Jack jumped up from the notion, seeing Roger.

Rose immediately moved closer to Jack, something that even Ruth detected. Roger came up to them, shaking Ruth's hand, however, when he was about to do the same with her daughters Ruth noticed a look of defence on Jack's face, as he drew Rose protectively behind him.

It was obvious that the two of them weren't the best friends to say the least. Somehow this time she couldn't blame the boy. Indeed Roger Lindsay had something frightening surrounding him.