The habit may have borne witness to the goodness of his conscience, or it may not (it may merely have been a by-product of an excellent digestion), but that morning it seemed to her that he chanted more loudly and with a finer gusto than usual.
She was not greatly surprised therefore, when she brought in his carefully grilled bacon, at his saying in a very cheerful tone: "I have had a windfall, Mrs.Bride--a windfall of thirty-five pounds.
It fell out of an auction-bridge tree--a game you do not understand--and it has made the heat-wave, which ought to be called the heat-flood, more unbearable than ever.

Therefore I have resolved to go away for a while to the sea." "Yes, sir," said Pollyooly in a tone of amiable congratulation.
But her face fell a little; for though the departure of the Honourable John Ruffin meant that she would have less work; it also meant that she would have to spend more on food for herself and her little brother the Lump, since the Honourable John Ruffin did not eat all his bread or drink all his milk; and there was often half a cake with which he refused to continue his afternoon tea on the ground that it was stale.
Besides, life was a far more cheerful business when he was at home; his talk was Pollyooly's chief diversion, though she was hardly conscious of the fact; and it frequently gave her to think deeply.
"But the thing that has kept me so long in London submerged in the heat-flood has not been so much the want of money (I have had enough for my own escape) as the great bacon difficulty," he said and paused.
"Yes, sir," said Pollyooly.
"But, thanks to this windfall, I can get over that difficulty by taking you to the sea to grill my bacon for me, and the Lump to keep you occupied while you are not grilling it, that Satan may not find some mischief still for idle hands to do," he said sententiously.
Pollyooly's large blue eyes opened very wide; and her mouth opened too.
"Oh, sir, me and the Lump, sir!" she said in a hushed, breathless voice of incredulous rapture.
"You and the Lump.

The Lump and the sea were made for one another.

I look to see him an admiral one of these days.

It is time that England had a red-headed admiral; I'm tired of these refined, drab-haired ones.
It is my patriotic duty to give him a taste for the sea early." "Oh, thank you, sir!" said Pollyooly in a tone of profound gratitude.
"We will go to Pyechurch.