"And who, or what, is the Lump?" said the duke somewhat impatiently.
"The Lump's her little brother. She mothers him," explained the Honourable John Ruffin.
"Well, surely she can find some one to take charge of him for six weeks. I'm paying her enough," said the duke.
"Oh, no, your Grace. I couldn't let anybody but myself look after him for a whole six weeks. I couldn't really. I shouldn't feel that they would do it properly—all the time. I can't go away and leave him for six weeks," said Pollyooly; and it was plain enough that she was quite sincere in her aversion from doing so.
Indeed she spoke in a tone of unshakable resolution; and the Honourable John Ruffin and the duke gazed at one another nonplussed. Pollyooly gazed at the Honourable John Ruffin with expectant eyes; she had a great belief in his powers. But he only frowned, pondering; and the duke scratched his head.
Then she said in a tone of faint hopefulness:
"But couldn't I take the Lump with me?"
"That's a solution," said the Honourable John Ruffin quickly.
"Oh, hang it! I couldn't turn up with two children. It would upset the apple-cart," the duke protested.
The face of the Honourable John Ruffin grew clear; and he said firmly: