ution in Miss Sparkes'
sentiments and prospects. Mrs. Clover duly received her missive, and
gave a good deal of thought to it, Being a woman of some self-command
she spoke no word of the matter to Minnie nor, though greatly tempted,
did she pen a reply, but in a few days she sent a quiet invitation to
Polly's father, desiring the pleasure of his company at tea on Sunday.

Mr. Sparkes came. He was in very low spirits, for during the past week
Chaffey's had disgraced itself (if Chaffey's _could_ now be disgraced)
by supplying a supper at eighteen-pence per head, exclusive of liquors,
to certain provincial representatives of the Rag, Bone, and Bottle
Dealers' Alliance in town for the purpose of attending a public
meeting. He called it 'art-breaking, he did. The long and short of it
was, he must prepare himself--and Chaffey's--for the inevitable
farewell. Why, it wasn't as if they had supplied the rag-tags with a
_good_ supper. You should have seen the stuff put before them; every
blessed dish a hash-up of leavings and broken meats. No man with a
vestige of self-respect could continue to wait at such entertainments.
And this amid the gilding and the plush and the marble-topped tables,
which sickened one with their surface imitation of real rest'rants.

"Wouldn't you like to retire into private life, Ebenezer?" asked his
hostess. "I'm sure you _could_, couldn't you?"

"Well, Louisa," he replied with hesitation, "if it comes to that, I
_could_. But I hardly know how I should spend my time."

The conversation turned to the subject of Polly, and, as they were
alone together, Mrs. Clover exhibited the letter she had received from
that young lady.

"Now what have you to say to that, Ebenezer? Don't you call it
shameful?"

Mr. Sparkes sighed deeply.

"I've warned her, Louisa, I've warned her solemn. What more can I do?"

"You see how she goes on about Mr. Gammon. Now I'm as sure as I am of
anything that it's all lies. I don't believe Mr. Gammon has insulted
her. There was something happened before she left Mrs. Bubb's--a bit of
unpleasantness there's no need to talk about; but I'm as sure as I sit
here, Ebenezer, that Mr. Gammon wouldn't insult any girl in the way
Polly says."

"Why don't you ask him?"

Mrs. Clover glanced at the door and betrayed uneasiness.

"To tell you the truth he doesn't come here just now. You won't let it
go any further, Ebenezer, but the truth is he began to take a sort of
fancy to Minnie, a