Happy Pollyooly

Excerpt: ...To her firm spirit the idea of working in gloves savoured of dilettantism. You see a lady-and all red Deepings are gentlefolk of course-a lady must have good hands, said the Honourable John Ruffin in a deprecating tone. Yes, sir, said Pollyooly solemnly. It was the first time that the meaning of the fact that the Deeping blood ran in her veins had been brought home to her; and she flushed faintly with honourable pride at the thought that she was a lady, for all that she did the work of two sets of chambers in the Temple. She sat a little more upright. And there's another thing, he went on. At Pyechurch I shall call you Pollyooly; and you will call me John, or cousin John. I-I'll try to remember, sir, said Pollyooly, again flushing with pride. You'll soon get into it, said the Honourable John Ruffin cheerfully. And it will be very nice for me to have a cousin always to hand. Pollyooly flushed again; and the gratitude in her eyes as they rested on him was beyond words. The train, one of the South-Eastern best, sauntered leisurely through the pleasant, sunny landscape, stopping meditatively at stations and between stations, as the whim took it, but at last it reached Hythe. They drove from there, proudly, in a wagonette to Pyechurch, along the edge of Romney Marsh, with the shining sea on their left hand. Pollyooly enjoyed the felicity of showing it to the Lump, who had never before seen it; but she was somewhat taken aback by his hailing a ship as a baa-lamb. They found Mrs. Wilson eagerly awaiting them. There was no doubt of her affection for the Honourable John Ruffin. She had a sumptuous tea ready for them; and after the journey and its excitement they dealt with it heartily. Any fear that the Honourable John Ruffin had felt of Mrs. Wilson's objecting to Pollyooly's grilling his bacon passed away when he saw how her heart went out to the two children. Indeed, before tea was over he was driven to say: I see what it...