e then asked her very
seriously whether she did not think that there had been enough of
this, that they might make up their minds to love each other, and be
married as it were out of hand. Her father and mother wished it, and
what was there against it? "You cannot doubt that I am in earnest
now, Polly?" he said.

"I know you are in earnest well enough," she answered.

"And you do not doubt that I love you?"

"I doubt very much whether you love father," said Polly. She spoke
this so sharp and quickly that he had no reply ready. "If you and
I were to be married, where should we live? I should want to have
father and mother with me. You'd mean that, I suppose?" The girl had
read his thoughts, and he hadn't a word to say for himself. "The
truth is, you despise father, Mr. Newton."

"No, indeed."

"Yes, you do. I can see it. And perhaps it's all right that you
should. I'm not saying-- Of course, he's not like you and your
people. How should he be? Only I'm thinking, like should marry like."

"Polly, you're fit for any position in which a man could place you."

"No, I'm not. I'm not fit for any place as father wouldn't be fit for
too. I'd make a better hand at it than father, I dare say,--because
I'm younger. But I won't go anywhere where folk is to be ashamed of
father. I'd like to be a lady well enough;--but it'd go against the
very grain of my heart if I had a house and he wasn't to be made
welcome to the best of everything."

"Polly, you're an angel!"

"I'm a young woman who knows who's been good to me. He's to give me
pretty nigh everything. You wouldn't be taking me if it wasn't for
that. And then, after all, I'm to turn my back on him because he
ain't like your people. No; never; Mr. Newton! You're well enough,
Mr. Newton; more than good enough for me, no doubt. But I won't do
it. I'd cut my heart out if I was turning my back upon father." She
had spoken out with a vengeance, and Ralph didn't know that there was
any more to be said. He couldn't bring himself to assure her that
Mr. Neefit would be a welcome guest in his house. At this moment the
breeches-maker was so personally distasteful to him that he had not
force enough in him to tell a lie upon the matter. They were now
at the entrance of the pier, at which their ways would separate.
"Good-bye, Mr. Newton," said she. "There had better be an end of
it;--hadn't there?" "Goodbye, Polly," he said, pressing her hand as
he left her.

Polly, walked up home