Pollyooly's thoughtful frown deepened as she cudgelled her small, but active, brain for a solution of this problem. Then she said:
"Perhaps if I was to go and ask him, he'd do it, sir."
"You?" said the Honourable John Ruffin very doubtfully. "I don't think that would do at all. You see there was that business of his kidnapping you in Piccadilly and carrying you off to Ricksborough House. He's not at all the kind of man to forget that he played the fool and had to pay you six pounds for doing it."
"But, please, sir, that wasn't my fault," said Pollyooly.
"No: it was his. That's why he's sure to be disliking you very much for it."
Pollyooly looked puzzled by this view of the working of the ducal mind.
"No: it wouldn't be any use at all," said the Honourable John Ruffin decisively.
For the while Pollyooly accepted his decision. But she accepted it with deep reluctance, for she was nearly as disappointed as Millicent by this dashing of their hopes. Naturally in that disappointment the Bellingham Home grew more and more attractive as it receded into the distance. She did not cease to discuss it with Millicent; and it grew clearer and clearer to her that it was worth her while to make the attempt to procure the duke's assistance in the scheme.
"He may be disagreeable. But he won't bite," she said in a somewhat contemptuous tone.
Accordingly a few mornings later she came to the Honourable John Ruffin with a very earnest face and said: