Polly became observant of the teapot, with a curled-up nose indicating some uneasiness of mind.

“They never get out, of course,” she remarked as a mere truism.

“The elephants and lions and tigers?  Oh, dear no!”

“Oh, dear no!” said Polly.  “And of course nobody’s afraid of the ponies shooting anybody.”

“Not the least in the world.”

“No, no, not the least in the world,” said Polly.

“I was also thinking,” proceeded Barbox, “that if we were to look in at the toy-shop, to choose a doll—­”

“Not dressed!” cried Polly with a clap of her hands.  “No, no, NO, not dressed!”

“Full-dressed.  Together with a house, and all things necessary for housekeeping—­”

Polly gave a little scream, and seemed in danger of falling into a swoon of bliss.

“What a darling you are!” she languidly exclaimed, leaning back in her chair.  “Come and be hugged, or I must come and hug you.”

This resplendent programme was carried into execution with the utmost rigour of the law.  It being essential to make the purchase of the doll its first feature—­or that lady would have lost the ponies—­the toy-shop expedition took precedence.  Polly in the magic warehouse, with a doll as large as herself under each arm, and a neat assortment of some twenty more on view upon the counter, did indeed present a spectacle of indecision not quite compatible with unalloyed happiness, but the light cloud passed.  The lovely specimen oftenest chosen, oftenest rejected, and finally abided by, was of Circassian descent, possessing as much boldness of beauty as was reconcilable with extreme feebleness of mouth, and combining a sky-blue silk pelisse with rose-coloured satin trousers, and a black velvet hat:  which this fair stranger to our northern shores would seem to have founded on the portraits of the late Duchess of Kent.  The name this distinguished foreigner brought with her from beneath the glowing skies of a sunny clime was (on Polly’s authority) Miss Melluka, and the costly nature of her outfit as a housekeeper, from the Barbox coffers, may be inferred from the two facts that her silver tea-spoons were as large as her kitchen poker, and that the proportions of her watch exceeded those of her frying-pan.  Miss Melluka was graciously pleased to express her entire approbation of the Circus, and so was Polly; for the ponies were speckled, and brought down nobody when they fired, and the savagery of the wild beasts appeared to be mere smoke—­which article, in fact, they did produce in large quantities from their insides.  The Barbox absorption in the general subject throughout the realisation of these delights was again a sight to see, nor was it less worthy to behold at dinner, when he drank to Miss Melluka, tied stiff in a chair opposite to Polly (the fair Circassian possessing an unbendable spine), and even induced the waiter to assist in carrying out with due decorum the prevailing glorious idea.