Happy Pollyooly | Page 2

pondered the matter for a few seconds; then she said: "Is
he--is he persecuting her, sir, like Senor Perez did when I was dancing
with her in 'Titania's Awakening'?"
"It ought to be a persecution; but I fear it isn't," said the Honourable
John Ruffin grimly. "I gather from this letter that she is regarding his
attentions, which, I am sure, consist chiefly of fulsome flattery and
uncouth gifts, with positive approbation."
Pollyooly pondered this information also; then she said:
"Is she going to marry him, sir?"
"She is not!" said the Honourable John Ruffin in a tone of the deepest
conviction but rather loudly.
Pollyooly looked at him and waited for further information to throw
light on his manifest disturbance of spirit.
He drummed a tattoo on the bare table with his fingers, frowning the
while; then he said:
"Constancy to the ideal, though perhaps out of place in a man, is alike
woman's privilege and her duty. I should be sorry--indeed I should be

deeply shocked if the Esmeralda were to fail in that duty."
"Yes, sir," said Pollyooly in polite sympathy, though she had not the
slightest notion what he meant.
"Especially since I took such pains to present to her the true ideal--the
English ideal," he went on. "Whereas this Moldo-Wallachian--at least
that's what I gather from this letter--is merely handsome in that cheap
and obvious South-European way--that is to say he has big, black eyes,
probably liquid, and a large, probably flowing, moustache. Therefore I
go to Buda-Pesth."
"Yes, sir," said Pollyooly with the same politeness and in the same
ignorance of his reason for going.
"I shall wire to her to-day--to give her pause--and to-morrow I shall
start." He paused, looking at her thoughtfully for a moment, then went
on: "I should like to take you with me, for I know how helpful you can
be in the matter of these insolent and infatuated foreigners. But
Buda-Pesth is too far away. And the question is what I am going to do
with you while I'm away."
"We can stay here all right, sir--the Lump and me," said Pollyooly
quickly, with a note of surprise in her voice.
Her little brother, Roger, who lived with her in the airy attic above the
Honourable John Ruffin's chambers, had acquired the name of "The
Lump" from his admirable placidity.
"I don't like the idea of your doing that," he said, shaking his head and
frowning. "I don't know how long I may be away--the affirmation of
the ideal is sometimes a lengthy process. Of course the Temple is a
quiet place; but I don't like to leave two small children alone in it for a
fortnight, or three weeks. It isn't as if Mr. Gedge-Tomkins were at
home. If he were at hand--just across the landing, it would be a very
different matter."
"But I'm sure we should be all right, sir," said Pollyooly with entire

confidence.
"Oh, I'm bound to say that if any child in the world could take care of
herself and a little brother, it's you," he said handsomely. "But I want to
devote all my energies to the affirmation of the ideal; and I must not be
troubled by anxiety about you. I shall have to dispose of you safely
somehow."
With that he rose, lighted a cigar, and presently sallied forth into the
world. The matter of learning the quickest way to Buda-Pesth and
procuring a ticket for the morrow took him little more than half an hour.
Then the matter of disposing safely of Pollyooly and the Lump during
his absence rose again to his mind and he walked along pondering it.
Presently there came to him a happy thought: there was their common
friend, Hilary Vance, an artist who had employed Pollyooly as his
model for a set of stories for The Blue Magazine. Hilary Vance was
devoted to Pollyooly, and he had a spare bedroom. But for a while the
Honourable John Ruffin hesitated; the artist was a man of an
uncommonly mercurial, irresponsible temperament. Was it safe to
entrust two small children to his care? Then he reflected that Pollyooly
was a strong corrective of irresponsibility, and took a taxicab to
Chelsea.
Hilary Vance, very broad, very thick, very round, with a fine, rebellious
mop of tow-coloured hair, which had fallen forward so as nearly to hide
his big, simple eyes, opened the door to him. At the sight of his visitor
a spacious round smile spread over his spacious face; and he welcomed
him with an effusive enthusiasm.
At his christening the good fairy had given to the Honourable John
Ruffin a very lively interest in his fellow-creatures and a considerable
power of observation with which to gratify it. He was used to the
splendid expansiveness of Hilary