's gone to fetch father home. She don't do it,--not once a month."
Ralph assured her that he was quite contented as it was, and that he
did not in the least regret the absence of Mrs. Neefit. "But she'll
be ever so unhappy. She likes to see gentlemen when they call."

"And you dislike it?" asked Ralph.

"Indeed I don't then," said Polly.

And now in what way was he to do it? Would it be well to allude to
her father's understanding with himself? In the ordinary way of
love-making Ralph was quite as much at home as another. He had found
no difficulty in saying a soft word to Clarissa Underwood, and in
doing more than that. But with Polly the matter was different. There
was an inappropriateness in his having to do the thing at all, which
made it difficult to him,--unless he could preface what he did by an
allusion to his agreement with her father. He could hardly ask Polly
to be his wife without giving her some reason for the formation of so
desperate a wish on his own part. "Polly," he said at last, "that was
very awkward for us all,--that evening when Mr. Moggs was here."

"Indeed it was, Mr. Newton. Poor Mr. Moggs! He shouldn't have
stayed;--but mother asked him."

"Has he been here since?"

"He was then, and he and I were walking together. There isn't a
better fellow breathing than Ontario Moggs,--in his own way. But he's
not company for you, Mr. Newton, of course."

Ralph quailed at this. To be told that his own boot-maker wasn't
"company" for him,--and that by the young lady whom he intended to
make his wife! "I don't think he is company for you either Polly," he
said.

"Why not, Mr. Newton? He's as good as me. What's the difference
between him and father?" He wondered whether, when she should be his
own, he would be able to teach her to call Mr. Neefit her papa. "Mr.
Newton, when you know me better, you'll know that I'm not one to give
myself airs. I've known Mr. Moggs all my life, and he's equal to me,
anyways,--only he's a deal better."

"I hope there's nothing more than friendship, Polly."

"What business have you to hope?"

Upon that theme he spoke, and told her in plain language that his
reason for so hoping was that he trusted to be able to persuade her
to become his own wife. Polly, when the word was spoken, blushed ruby
red, and trembled a little. The thing had come to her, and, after
all, she might be a real lady if she pleased. She blushed ruby red,
and trembled, but she said not a word for a