"Yes; we don't want more, do we?" inquired the little maid. "There's such pretty paper on the walls. Roses--_such_ red ones! Father's fond of flowers, that's why. I like to look at them before I go to sleep; sometimes I see pretty faces in them, like Lily's. I dream of everything. I shall dream of you to-night, and shall look for your face among the roses. I'm making a bunch of buttercups and daisies for father, but they're all one colour"--with a wistful look at the flowers in her companion's coat. Felix saw the wish in the look, and taking the flowers from his coat, gave them to Pollypod. "If you put these in the bunch," he said, "there will be more than one colour." Pollypod held up her face to be kissed again, and nestled closer to him. "I knew you were good," she said. When she had arranged the flowers, Felix found a piece of string in his pocket, and tied them together for her. The party near the coffin were in the same position as they had been when he came into the churchyard; the old man and Gribble junior had not returned. Having nothing better to do, and burning with a desire to know more of the fair girl whose acquaintance he had made in so strange a manner, Felix resumed his conversation with little Pollypod. He had no difficulty in doing so; Pollypod was brimful of talk. "So you dream of everything," he said. Pollypod nodded, repeated "E-ve-ry-thing" under her breath, and held up her bunch of flowers admiringly, turning them this way and that, and thinking how pleased father would be with them. "What did you dream of last night?" "I don't remember," replied Pollypod, after a little consideration. "I know what I dreamt of the night before." "Of what?" "Of my Doll," said the little maid, showing by her manner that the subject was of very serious importance. "And, O, it looked so beautiful! It had large blue eyes--and moved them!--and a pink face, and red lips, and it was dressed in blue silk, with such a lovely bonnet!" "Was it as pretty as your own doll?" inquired Felix. Pollypod shook her head a dozen times, and pursed her lips. "I haven't got one," she said wistfully, "I never saw it; I only dream of it." Felix did not say anything in the pause that followed, knowing that he was about to be enlightened. "It's in father's ship. Father told me, O, such a long time ago! that when his ship came home, he would give me the Doll; and the naughty ship won't come home. Father is so angry sometimes because it's so long away. There's a toy-shop not far from where we live, with such funny things in the window--and there's a Doll in the middle of them, just like mine that's in father's ship. Father says mine is handsomer, and that mine has a smaller nose and pinker lips. I go to look at it whenever I can, and wish, and wish, and wish that father's ship would come home! I often dream that it has, and when I wake up I say, 'Father, has your ship come home?' and he says, 'No, Pollypod;' and I know by his voice that he's sorry."