Certainly if ever man had the knack of winning a mother's heart, Felix had it; and if he could have read Mrs. Podmore's thoughts as he stepped into the passage with her child in his arms, he would have found himself there enshrined as the very pink and perfection and pattern of goodness. "Go up slow," whispered Pollypod to him, as she lay with her head on his shoulder; the cunning little maid was in a delicious trance, and was wishful not to wake up too soon; "isn't it nice and dark? Can you see the Ship?" "Yes." "And the Captain?" "Yes." "And the Doll _is_ there?" "I can see it, Pollypod." "And the stars are shining?" "Beautifully, Pollypod." "Yes," she murmured, "it is night, and the stars are shining." The roses on the wall of Mrs. Podmore's room were red enough to assert themselves even in the dim light, and Felix thought that Pollypod's idealisation of them was one of the prettiest of pretty fancies. "I'm sure we're all very much obliged to you, sir," said Mrs. Podmore to him as he placed the child on the bed. "You could not be more welcome to anything," replied Felix. "Good night, little maid." He stooped to kiss her, and she encircled his neck with her arms. "There's a kiss for the Ship," she whispered, "and a kiss for the Captain, and two for You! I shall tell Snap about you when father comes home." Gribble junior was waiting on the landing of the second floor to wish him good night. "Did you see that gent that stopped and spoke to Miss Lily?" asked Gribble junior. "Yes." "What do you think of him?" Felix smilingly replied that it was impossible for him to form an opinion. "I don't think much of him myself," said Gribble junior dryly; "he ain't one of my sort." "Tell me," said Felix, "if it is not rude to ask, what did he mean by saying that the White Rose was quite disconsolate at Miss Lily's absence? What is the White Rose?" "Don't you know the Royal White Rose Music-hall?" interrogated Gribble junior, wondering at the young man's ignorance. "That's where Miss Lily sings. You should see her and hear her! She looks like an angel, and sings like one. She's not like any of the others. You see, a girl must do something, and between you and me, I don't think the old gentleman would be able to get along if it wasn't for the money that Miss Lily earns. Master Alfred, he doesn't do much." About an hour afterwards, Felix found himself in the Royal White Rose Music-hall, wondering that so pure and simple a girl as Lily should be associated with some of the things he heard and witnessed there. "But," he thought, "to the pure all things are pure. And there are stranger contrasts in life than this."