made quite a nonentity of. Where's that girl? Go and
look for her. Or, no, you must see to the dinner; and mind this,
Lloyd--she's to be kept out of sight while these fine sparks are here.
I don't like the looks of that dark fellow at all."

Mrs Lloyd hurried away to meet Polly, just about to enter the
housekeeper's room.

"And pray, where have you been, madam?"

"Only out in the grounds, aunt--it was so fine," was the reply.

Mrs Lloyd looked at her till a red glow overspread the girl's face.

"Look here," said Mrs Lloyd, catching her by one hand; "you are not a
fool, Polly. You understand what I mean, don't you?"

The girl looked up at her with a shiver, and then her eyes fell.

"Don't you try to thwart me, mind, or you'll be sorry for it to the last
day of your life. Now, look here, do you mind me?"

"Yes, aunt."

"You are to keep in the housekeeper's room here till those friends of
Master Dick's are gone. And don't you try to deceive me, because I can
read that pink and white face of yours like a book."

Mrs Lloyd flung the little maiden's hand away from her, walked to a
drawer, and brought out some new linen, which she set the girl to sew,
while she went about the house seeing to the arrangements for her
master's guests.

As a matter of course, little Polly had "a good cry," making several
damp places on the new linen; and then, with a sob, she wished herself
safe back at her old aunt's in the Welsh mountains, where she was poor,
but happy and free as the goats.

"I'd go to-morrow if I could," she sobbed, and then the needle hand fell
upon the stiff, hard work, and she closed her wet eyes till a faint
smile came across her face like a little ray of sunshine; and she
whispered softly to herself, as if it were a great secret, "No, I don't
think I would."

Volume 1, Chapter XV.

MRS JENKLES'S MORNING CALL.

"Been waiting, old lady?" said Sam Jenkles, throwing open the apron of
the cab as he reached his wife's side.

"Not a minute, Sam; but why weren't you driving? Is he restive?"

"Restive!" said Sam; "I only wish he was. I'd give 'arf a sovrin' to
see 'im bolt."

"And suppose I was in the cab!" said Mrs Jenkles.

"There, don't you be alarmed. Jump in. Ratty wouldn't run away with
you inside, my dear--nor any one else."

Sam rattled the apron down, hopped on to his perch, chirruped to Ratty,
and, for a wonder, he went decently out on to Pentonville Hill, past the
Angel, along Upper