"Then there are moments in his life when he must go on by himself," said Polly. But her pluck was too good for her to desert him at such a moment, and, although he hardly moderated his pace till he had passed the railway station, she kept by his side. As things had gone so far it might be quite as well now that she should hear what he had to say. A dim, hazy idea had crossed the mind of Moggs that it would be as well that he should get out into the country before he began his task, and that the line of the railway which passed beneath the road about a quarter of a mile beyond Mr. Neefit's cottage, might be considered as the boundary which divided the town from pastoral joys. He waited, therefore, till the bridge was behind them, till they had passed the station, which was close to the bridge;--and then he began. "Polly," said he, "you know what brings me here." Polly did know very well, but she was not bound to confess such knowledge. "You've brought me here, Mr. Moggs, and that's all I know," she said. "Yes;--I've brought you here. Polly, what took place last night made me very unhappy,--very unhappy indeed." "I can't help that, Mr. Moggs." "Not that I mean to blame you." "Blame me! I should think not. Blame me, indeed! Why are you to blame anybody because father chooses to ask whom he pleases to dinner? A pretty thing indeed, if father isn't to have whom he likes in his own house." "Polly, you know what I mean." "I know you made a great goose of yourself last night, and I didn't feel a bit obliged to you." "No, I didn't. I wasn't a goose at all. I don't say but what I'm as big a fool as most men. I don't mean to stick up for myself. I know well enough that I am foolish often. But I wasn't foolish last night. What was he there for?" "What business have you to ask, Mr. Moggs?" "All the business in life. Love;--real love. That's why I have business. That young man, who is, I suppose, what you call a swell." "Don't put words into my mouth, Mr. Moggs. I don't call him anything of the kind." "He's a gentleman." "Yes;--he is a gentleman,--I suppose." "And I'm a tradesman,--a bootmaker." "So is father a tradesman, and if you mean to tell me that I turn up my nose at people the same as father is, you may just go back to London and think what you like about me. I won't put up with it from you or anybody. A tradesman to me is as good as anybody,--if he is as good. There." "Oh, Polly, you do look so beautiful!" "Bother!" "When you say that, and speak in that way, I think you as good as you are beautiful." "Remember,--I don't say a word against what you call--gentlemen. I take 'em just as they come. Mr. Newton is a very nice young man." "Are you going to take him, Polly?" "How can I take him when he has never asked me? You are not my father, Mr. Moggs, not yet my uncle. What right have you to question me? If I was going to take him, I shouldn't want your leave." "Polly, you ought to be honest." "I am honest."