"I don't know about that, father. He'll come again, you may be sure. He's one of that sort that isn't easily said nay to. If you mean,--have I said yes?--I haven't. I'll never say yes to any man unless I love him. When I do say it I shall mean it,--whether it's Onty Moggs or anybody else. I'm not going to be given away, you know, like a birthday present, out of a shop. There's nobody can give me away, father,--only myself." To all which utterances of a rebellious spirit the breeches-maker made no answer. He knew that Polly would, at least, be true to him; and, as she was as yet free, the field was still open to his candidate. He believed thoroughly that had not his wife interfered, and asked the bootmaker to join that unfortunate dinner party, his daughter and Ralph Newton would now have been engaged together. And probably it might have been so. When first it had been whispered to Polly that that handsome and very agreeable young gentleman, Mr. Ralph Newton, might become a suitor for her hand, she had chucked up her head and declared to her mother that she didn't intend to take a husband of her father's choosing; but as she came to know Ralph a little, she did find that he was good-looking and agreeable,--and her heart did flutter at the idea of becoming the wife of a real, undoubted gentleman. She meant to have her grand passion, and she must be quite sure that Mr. Newton loved her. But she didn't see any reason why Mr. Newton shouldn't love her, and, upon the whole, she was inclined to obey her father rather than to disobey him. And it might still be that he should win her;--for he had done nothing to disgrace himself in her sight. But there did lurk within her bosom some dim idea that he should have bestirred himself more thoroughly on that Sunday evening, and not have allowed himself to be driven out of the field by Ontario Moggs. She wronged him there, as indeed he had had no alternative, unless he had followed her up to her bedroom.