Asking after Polly, she gave me the family history since Lease's death. First of all, after moving to her mother's at Worcester, she tried to get a living at making gloves. Her two youngest children caught some disorder, and died; and then she took to go out nursing. In that she succeeded so well--for it seemed to be her vocation, she said--as to be brought under the notice of some of the medical gentlemen of the town. They gave her plenty to do, and she earned an excellent living, Polly and the other two being cared for by the grandmother. "After the scuffle, and toil, and sorrow of the old days, nursing seems like a holiday to me, Master Ludlow," she concluded; "and I am at home with the children for a day or two as often as I can be." "Johnny!" The call was Bill Whitney's, and I went into the other room. Helen was there, but not Tod. She and Bill were disputing. "I tell you, William, I shall bring her in. She has asked to come. You can't think how nice she is." "And I tell you, Helen, that I won't have her brought in. What do I want with your Sophie Chalks?" "It will be your loss." "So be it! I can't do with strange girls here." "You will see that." "Now look here, Helen--_I won't have it_. To-morrow is Mr. Carden's day for coming, and I'll tell him that I can't be left in peace. He will soon give you a word of a sort." "Oh, well, if you are so serious about it as that, let it drop," returned Helen, good-humouredly. "I only thought to give you pleasure--and Sophie Chalk did ask to come in." "Who _is_ this Sophie Chalk? That's about the nineteenth time I have asked it." "The sweetest girl in the world." "Let that pass. Who is she?" "I went to school with her at Miss Lakon's. She used to do my French for me, and touch up my drawings. She vowed a lasting friendship, and I am not going to forget it. Every one loves her. Lord and Lady Augustus Difford have just had her staying with them for two months." "Good souls!" cried Bill, satirically. "She is the loveliest fairy in the world, and dresses like an angel. Will you see her now, William?" "No." Helen went off with a flounce. Bill was half laughing, half peevish over it. Confinement made him fretful. "As if I'd let them bring a parcel of girls in to bother me! _You_'ve had her for these past three weeks, I hear, Johnny." "Pretty near it." "Do you like her?" "Tod does." "What sort of a creature is the syren?" "She'd fascinate the eyes out of your head, Bill, give her the chance." "Then I'll be shot if she shall have the chance as far as I am concerned! Lease!"--raising his voice--"keep all strange ladies out of here. If they attempt to enter, tell them we've got rats about." "Very well, sir."