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 "You're not going to do that again to-day?" said Mr. Gedge-Tomkins sharply.

"No, sir. Mr. Ruffin is going to look after the Lum'—Roger, sir, and give him the right things to eat."

"The offshoots of the aristocracy are the curse of the professions," said Mr. Gedge-Tomkins with stern precision. "Why doesn't he pay his debts instead of looking after young children, an avocation for which he is entirely unqualified?"

"The Lump doesn't want much looking after, sir," said Pollyooly in a tone of apology.

"I do not like that red-nosed fellow. I believe he drinks," said Mr. Gedge-Tomkins thoughtfully, with a gloomy frown.

"I shouldn't wonder, sir," said Pollyooly.

"When you're ready to go back to Mr. Ruffin's chambers, let me know. I will manage it for you," said Mr. Gedge-Tomkins in a tone of gloomy menace which boded ill to the dogged Englishman.

"Thank you, sir," said Pollyooly joyfully.

At ten o'clock she had finished her work in his rooms, and Mr. Gedge-Tomkins had finished his morning pipe, and was ready for the Courts.