“Now, see ’ere, Polly.  You’re a young gyell, my dear, and a ’andsome gyell, as we all know, and you’ve only one fault, which there ain’t no need to mention it.  And we’re all fond of you, Polly, that s the fact.  Ain’t we all fond of her, Mrs. Bubb?”

“Oh, yes, she’s very fond of me!” exclaimed the girl.  “And so is my Aunt Louisa.  And to show it they go telling everybody that I ain’t respectable, that I’m a disgrace to a decent ’ouse.  D’you think I’ll stand it?” Of a sudden she changed from irony to fierceness.  “What do you mean by it, Mrs. Bubb?  Did you never hear of people being prosecuted for taking away people’s characters?  Just you mind what you’re about, Mrs. Bubb.  I give you fair warning, and that’s all I have to say to you.”

Having relieved her feelings with these and a few more verbal missiles, Polly ran up the kitchen steps.  In the passage the two men were still conversing; at sight of Polly they stopped with an abruptness which did not escape her observation.  No doubt, she said to herself, they had been talking about her.  No doubt, too, they had their reasons for letting her go by as before without a word.  Only when she was half-way up the first flight of stairs did Mr. Cheeseman call to her a “Goodnight, Miss Sparkes,” to which she made no reply whatever.

On the morrow she called at the little stationer’s shop, but no letter awaited her.  She decided to be again at the rendezvous that evening, lest there should have been some mistake in her cipher message; but she lingered near the College of Surgeons in vain.  Polly’s heart sank as she went home, for to-night there was no one to quarrel with.  Mrs. Bubb and all the lodgers had shown that they meant to hold aloof; not even Moggie would look at her or speak a word.  It was quite an unprecedented state of things, and Polly found it disagreeable.

There was only one consolation, and that a poor one.  She had received a letter from Christopher Parish, a letter of abject remonstrance and entreaty.  He grovelled at her feet.  He talked frantically of poison and the river.  If she would but meet him and hear him in his own defence!  And Polly quite meaning to do so, gave herself the pleasure of appearing obdurate for a couple of days.

At the theatre she examined every row of spectators in stalls and dress-circle, having he own reason for thinking that she might discover certain face.  But no such fortune befell her, and still no letter came.

At home she suffered increasing discomfort.  For one thing she had to seek her meals in the nearest coffee-shop instead of going down into Mrs. Bubb’s kitchen and gossiping as she ate at the family deal table, amid the dirt and disorder which custom had made pleasant.  When in the house she locked herself in her bedroom, reading the kind of print that interested her, or lying in sullen idleness on the bed.  Numerous as were her acquaintances elsewhere, they did not compensate her for the loss of domestic habit, As the week drew on she bethought herself that she must look for new lodgings.  In giving notice to Mrs. Bubb she had not believed for a moment that it would come to this she felt, sure that her old friend would make up the quarrel and persuade her to stay.  Nothing of the kind; for once she was taken most literally at her word.  There were moments when Polly felt disposed to cry.