If folks have no money and don't want to starve, what do they do?" he
asked, puffing at his pipe.

"They work," said Polly, laconically; pushed open the door with her
foot, deposited the dishes in the yard-wide hall beyond, and returned
for the rest of the breakfast-things.

"They work if they're lucky and born poor," he said. "But if they're
like me they can't work, Polly, because they don't know how, and no one
will give them the chance to learn. No. It'll have to be the workhouse,
my good girl."

Upon which Polly snuffled loudly, and her tears fell--splash--upon the
plates she was carrying away. It was not the first time that the
workhouse had been threatened; the dread of her life was that the
threat should be carried into effect. So she cried, and her poor little
red hands shook as she shuffled the plates together.

"Here's a letter," she snuffled.

"Fling it on the fire, Polly."

"'Tain't opened. I 'ont, then. You should ope your letters."

"Open it for me, then."

So the little maid-of-all work opened, and, in obedience to his orders,
she being a sixth-standard scholar, and not stumbling once at a hard
word, read the letter.

And as she read, the young man sat upright in his chair, pulled the
pipe from lips which had fallen open in astonishment, and fixed
unblinking eyes of innocent blue upon the handmaiden.

For in legal phraseology, the sense of which, if not the words, was a
sore stumbling-block to Polly, the letter set forth that by the death
of a certain James Playford, legatee under the will of Mr Daniel
Thrower's uncle, a sum of money had been released which now, according
to the said will, was to be divided between the said uncle's nephews
and nieces. Due deduction having been made for this and that, Mr Daniel
Thrower's share was found to amount to the sum of L98, 17s. 6d., for
which a cheque was herewith enclosed.

"Do you mean to say he's sent the money?" Mr Daniel Thrower demanded,
in the accents of incredulity.

"There ain't no money--not a farden--only a bit o' paper," Polly said,
with disappointment.

Dan seized the cheque from her hand. "All right!" he said; "I shan't go
to that institution we spoke of just yet, Polly. We've got another
chance, my girl."

Truth to say, he had had several in his life, but this seemed to him
the happiest which had ever befallen. After each drunken outburst he
made resolution that it should be the last, and remained a strictly
temperate person till