The doctor sighed, and muttered something about dissipations that were only too fascinating, too engrossing. He did not exactly like to say that his passports had been sent him, and the authorities duly instructed to give him “every aid and assistance possible.” For a moment, indeed, Polly looked as though she would make some explanation of the matter; but it was only for a moment, and the slight flush on her cheek gave way quickly, and she looked somewhat paler than her wont. Meanwhile, the little Poet had fetched her shawl, and led her away, humming, “Buona notte,--buona sera!” as he went, in that half-caressing, half-quizzing way he could assume so jauntily. Stapylton walked behind with the doctor, and whispered as he went, “If not inconvenient, might I ask the favor of a few minutes with you to-morrow?” Dill assured him he was devotedly his servant; and having fixed the interview for two o'clock, away they drove. The night was calm and starlight, and they had long passed beyond the grounds of Cobham, and were full two miles on their road before a word was uttered by either. “What was it her Ladyship said about Thursday next, at dinner?” asked the doctor, half pettishly. “Nothing to me, papa.” “If I remember, it was that we had accepted the invitation already, and begging me not to forget it.” “Perhaps so,” said she, dryly. “You are usually more mindful about these matters,” said he, tartly, “and not so likely to forget promised festivities.” “They certainly were not promised to me,” said she, “nor, if they had been, should I accept of them.” “What do you mean?” said he, angrily. “Simply, papa, that it is a house I will not re-enter, that's all.” “Why, your head is turned, your brains are destroyed by flattery, girl. You seem totally to forget that we go to these places merely by courtesy,--we are received only on sufferance; we are not _their_ equals.” “The more reason to treat us with deference, and not render our position more painful than it need be.” “Folly and nonsense! Deference, indeed! How much deference is due from eight thousand a year to a dispensary doctor, or his daughter? I 'll have none of these absurd notions. If they made any mistake towards you, it was by over-attention,--too much notice.” “That is very possible, papa; and it was not always very flattering for that reason.” “Why, what is your head full of? Do you fancy you are one of Lord Carricklough's daughters, eh?” “No, papa; for they are shockingly freckled, and very plain.” “Do you know your real station?” cried he, more angrily, “and that if, by the courtesy of society, my position secures acceptance anywhere, it entails nothing--positively nothing--to those belonging to me?” “Such being the case, is it not wise of us not to want anything,--not to look for it,--not to pine after it? You shall see, papa, whether I fret over my exclusion from Cobham.”