iness at first, for she loved him.
Lily, with her little nose in the air, sniffed those love stories, gulped
them down, so to speak, with an instinctive movement of the lips.

"And did you write to him?"

"I wrote to him, but he never answered. Oh, if Nunkie knew! He forbids us
to write, because writing, you know, Lily, puts out the muscles of the
arms, interferes with the pullings-up, Nunkie says...."

[Illustration: NUNKIE]

But they turned into Regent Street: to Lily it was the entrance to the
paradise of shops. The huge curve displayed its window fronts; and ladies
and gentlemen and little girls: not dressed in their Ma's leavings, these
last, but a superior branch of mankind, similar to that in the front
boxes.

Nunkie blinked his eyes behind his spectacles: all this luxury terrified
him; he had almost forgotten the sleeve-links, talking with Clifton of
people they had known:

"The boy-violinist? Not up to much. Ave Maria? A disgrace: married,
deserted, I don't know what. Poland, the Parisienne? A scandal!" As for
him, he had but one wish, after getting his girls married: to retire to
his home, grow his roses, look after his pigeons; simple joys, the only
ones....

"Look, Thea!" Lily broke in, pointing through the plate-glass to a heap of
imitation jewelry, lying, among watches, on red and black velvet.

"Come on!" said Mr. Fuchs.

But, when Thea saw the prices--ten shillings, twelve shilling's--she
refused to go in, saying she could have it just as pretty in Wardour
Street and ever so much cheaper.

"Just as you please, my darling. I'll do whatever you like. I don't know
anything about it!"

Clifton felt something rise in revolt within him, he was unable to resist
it; a case of showing that old curmudgeon what a Pa was and that his
little girl, too, did pullings-up in her way and that he knew how to treat
her as a Pa should:

"Your watch, Lily," he said, opening the door and pushing her in. "Now's
the chance to get it. Come, choose for yourself!"

"Oh, Pa! Do you really mean it, Pa?" she said incredulously.

"Now look here, I'll smack you, Lily! When your Pa tells you a thing!"

Lily seemed a princess, with her way of saying, "'K you," of touching the
ornaments, the watches, like a little creature thirsting for luxury and
yielding to her inclination at the first opportunity. There was so great a
look of happiness in her eyes; and Clifton was so proud of his Lily, that
he offered her a chain as w