Who knows when and where he may turn up, or what
he'll do?"
"That's a good 'un! My Uncle Clover indeed! Whatever put that into
your 'ead?"
Her ejaculations of wonder and disdain continued until the close of
the interview, and Mr. Sparkes went his way, convinced that Polly
was being pursued by some wealthy man, probably quite
unprincipled--the kind of man who frequents "proper rest'rants" and
sits in the stalls at "theaytres," where, doubtless, Polly had made
his acquaintance. After brooding a day or two on this idea he
procured a sheet of the cheapest note-paper and sat down in his
bedroom, high up at Chaffey's, to compose a letter for his
daughter's behoof.
"DEAR POLLY,
"I write you these few lines to say that the more I
think about you and your way of carrying on the less I like the look
of it, and the sooner I make that plain to you the better for both
of us, and I'm sure you'll think the same. You are that
strong-headed, my girl; but listen to the warnings of experience,
who have seen a great deal of the wicked world, and cannot hope to
see much more of it at my present age.
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