“Please, Sir Orkus, if I’ve ordered him away once, I’ve done it fifty times, and father’s threatened him and beat him, but he would come.”
“What! did he want to marry you?”
“Yes, Sir Orkus, but I wouldn’t demean myself to listen to him.”
“Of course not! a poaching vagabond. Go on, go on.” Every eye was fixed on Polly, whose cheeks were scarlet, as she gave me a sharp look, full of encouragement.
“Yes, Sir Orkus, and he was always bringing me his rubbish, and wanting me to have it, hankychies, and ribbings, and a gilt brooch, as you could see wasn’t gold.”
“And you wouldn’t take them?”
“No, Sir Orkus, never nothing, and then he said it was because I was too proud, and thought they wasn’t good enough for me, and then he didn’t come any more till one day when he brought me a silver watch.”
A curious murmur ran through the room, and my mother ran to my side and threw her arms about my neck.
“Yes, go on, Polly,” said the General, rubbing his hands. “What sort of a watch was it?”
“A little one, sir, with a fancy face and two letters cut in a round spot on the back.”