uarrel 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.

It vexed her much more than she would have thought to miss the jocose
greetings of her neigh hour Mr. Gammon. As usual he sang in his bedroom
of a morning, as usual be shouted orders and questions to Moggie, but
for her he had never a word. She listened for him as he came out of the
room, and once so far humbled herself as to affect a cough in his
bearing. Mr. Gammon paid no attention.

Then she raged at him--of course, _sotto voce_. Many were the phrases
of abuse softly hurled at him as he passed her door. The worst of it
was that none of them seemed really applicable; her vision of the man
defeated all such contumely. She had never disliked Mr. Gammon; oddly
enough, she seemed to think of him with a more decided friendliness now
that his conduct demanded her enmity. She asked herself whether he
really believed any harm of her. It looked very much as if he did, and
the thought sometimes kept her awake for fully a quarter of an hour.

It was the last day but one of her week. To-morrow she must either
submit to the degradation of begging Mrs. Bubb's leave to remain, or
pack her boxes and have them removed before nightfall. Worry had ended
by giving her a slight headache, a very rare thing indeed. Moreover, it
rained, and breakfast was only obtainable by walking some distance.

"Oh, the beasts!" Polly exclaimed to herself, as she pulled on her
boots, meaning the inhabitants of the house all together.

Mr. Gammon opened his door and shouted down the staircase.

"Moggie! Fry me three eggs this morning with the bacon--do you hear?"

Three eggs! Fried with bacon! And all comfortably set out at the end of
the kitchen table. And to think that she might be going down to
breakfast at the same time, with Mr. Gammon's jokes for a relish!

"Oh, the wretches! The mean, selfish brutes!"

She stamped about the floor to ease her nerves as she put on a common
hat and an old jacket. She unlocked her door with violence, banged it
open, and slammed it to again. From the staircase window she saw that
the rain was falling more heavily, and she could not wait, for she felt
hungry--after hearing about those three eggs. If she met anyone down
below!

And, as chance had it, she met Mrs. Cheeseman just coming up to her
room from the kitchen with a dish of sausages. The woman grinned