she hurried off to Mr.
Wilkinson and awoke him. Mr. Wilkinson, desiring to sleep yet another
hour, would not hear of any bathing. On learning this, Pollyooly
hammered on the door yet more loudly than before with the heels of her
two stout shoes. The chambermaid summoned the manager; both of them
betook themselves to Mr. Wilkinson, and anxiously informed him that her
young ladyship was awaking the whole hotel. Mr. Wilkinson, as angry as
he could be with the daughter of so distinguished a client, was on the
point of rising, when he had a happy thought. He bade the manager
rouse the detective and tell him to take her young ladyship to bathe,
and to look after her very carefully indeed.

The detective, also desiring to sleep yet another hour, rose gloomily
and gloomily escorted Pollyooly to the sea. His gloom did not at all
lessen Pollyooly's enjoyment of her bath and she spent the pleasantest
half-hour in the sea. She graciously suffered the detective to pay for
it.

She returned to the hotel with a glorious appetite and made a glorious
breakfast. Mr. Wilkinson congratulated her on the healthiness of her
appetite, with a somewhat envious air. It seemed to her that the hotel
was more attractive in the matter of breakfasts than of dinners.

At a few minutes to eleven they started to walk to the station.
Remembering that her parole only covered the day before, Mr. Wilkinson
set her between himself and the detective. Pollyooly had not forgotten
the Honourable John Ruffin's urgent instruction that she should wire
him the time of the arrival of their train at Waterloo, and she learned
from Mr. Wilkinson that it was three twenty-five. When, therefore,
they reached the post office, she made a sudden dash across the road
into it.

Mr. Wilkinson and the detective bustled after her and found her writing
the telegram. It ran:

I arrive at three twenty-five. Pollyooly.

It puzzled them a little; and Mr. Wilkinson said:

"Why do you telegraph to Mr. Ruffin?"

"Because he told me to," said Pollyooly.

"He told you to?" said Mr. Wilkinson with a puzzled air. "When did he
tell you to?"

"The day before yesterday," said Pollyooly.

Mr. Wilkinson shook his head with a pained air. He thought that her
ladyship was fibbing.

"Why do you sign it 'Pollyooly'?" he said.

"Because it's my name," said Pollyooly.

Mr. Wilkinson shook his head with a yet sadder air. Had she been the
daughter of a commoner, he would