He humbled himself before her; he declared himself a beast and a brute.

Polly was a darling: far too good for him, too sweet and gentle and lovely.

He ought to think himself the happiest man living, by jorrocks if he oughtn't! Just one more! Why, he liked a girl to have spirit! He wouldn't give tuppence farthing for fifty girls that couldn't speak up for themselves.

And if she was the niece of a lord, why, she deserved it and a good deal more.

She ought to be Lady Polly straight away; and hanged if he wouldn't call her so.
"Hadn't we better get this letter addressed ?" Polly asked, very amiable again.
"Yes; it's getting late, I'm afraid." Polly drew up to the table, but her hand was so unsteady that it cost her much trouble to manage the pen.
"I've wrote it awful bad.