Why, I've bruises yet!" "Serve you right! Do let me put my 'air and my 'at straight." "I say, Polly--" and he whispered something.
"I s'pose so--some day," was her answer, with head bent over the hat she was smoothing into shape.
"But won't you think yourself too good for me?
Remember, you've got a lord for your uncle." It returned upon both with the freshness of surprise; even Polly had quite lost sight of the startling fact during the last few minutes.
They looked at the unaddressed letter; they gazed into each other's faces.
"You haven't gone and made a mistake ?" asked Polly in an awed undertone.
"There now! You didn't think; you're beginning to be sorry." "No, I'm not." "You are; I can see it." "Oh, all right; have it your own way! I thought you wouldn't be so sweet-tempered very long.

You're all alike, you men." "Why, it's you that can't keep your temper!" shouted Gammon.

"I only wanted to hear you say it wouldn't make any difference, happen what might." "And didn't I say it wouldn't ?" shrilled Polly.

"What more can I say ?" Strangely enough a real tear had started in her eye.

Gammon saw it and was at once remorseful.