Polly, of course, concluded that he kept away solely because he did not wish to see her.  In the mood induced by this reflection, and by the turbid emotions natural to such a day, she penned her farewell to the insulting and perfidious man.  Mr. Gammon was informed that never and nowhere would Miss Sparkes demean herself by exchanging another word with him; that he was a low and vulgar and ignorant person, without manners enough for a road-scraper; moreover, that she had long since been the object of sincere attentions from someone so vastly his superior that they were not to be named in the same month.  This overflow of feeling was some relief, but Polly could not rest until she had also written to Mrs. Clover.  She made known to her aunt that Mr. Gammon had of late been guilty of such insolent behaviour to her (the writer) that she had serious thoughts of seeking protection from the police.  “As he is such a great friend of yours and Minnie’s, I thought I had better warn you.  Perhaps you might like to try and teach him better behaviour, though I can’t say as you are the person to do it.  And you may be pleased to hear that I should not wonder if I am shortly to be married to a gentleman, which it won’t surprise you after that if I am unable to see anything more of you and your family.”

But for a violent storm which broke out after eleven that night, just as she finished these compositions, Polly would have posted them forthwith, and Mr. Gammon would in that case have received his letter by the first post next morning.  As it was they remained in Polly’s room all night, and only an hour or two after their actual dispatch came the fateful telegram which was to make such a revolution 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.