"And now tell me, Pollypod," said Felix, anxious to learn something of Lily and the old man. "Where do you all come from?"
"O, along, long, long way! It was such a nice ride!"
"Then you live a long way from here?"
"O, yes, we live in London, in Soho."
"That is a long-way indeed, Pollypod. Are you Lily's cousin?"
"O, no; we're none of us relations, not even the baby! But we all live together. Lily lives on the first floor; baby and Mr. and Mrs. Gribble live on the second floor--they're umbrella makers; father and mother and me live on the third floor."
"That's very high up, Pollypod!"
"I like it because of that; there's such a lot of light! It's nearer the sky, father says. Father's a railway man, and comes home so late! But we play in bed every morning. And we've got a dog; Snap's his name. He goes out to work every morning with father, and comes back at night. We have such fun together! We've got such a nice room."
"Only one, Pollypod?"
"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.