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 who was sitting a few yards away. She was charmingly dressed in a confection of light blue, and beside her sat her sour-faced mother, dressed in a much more elaborate confection of the same tint.

Pollyooly gazed at the pretty girl with some pleasure and more envy for a minute or two, thinking that it must be glorious, indeed, to have nothing to do all day but wear such beautiful clothes. Idleness appealed to her very strongly, though no one could have suggested that she did not do the work of the two sets of chambers in the King's Bench Walk in a thoroughly creditable fashion. But she often felt, as children will, that a whole day's holiday would be very pleasant indeed. It also seemed for her for ever impossible.

Then the pretty girl's eyes, drawn by the attraction of Pollyooly's intent gaze, fell on her; and she smiled.

Pollyooly flushed a little; she feared that she had been caught in the act of staring, and, like the well-mannered child she was, it made her uncomfortable. The pretty girl's eyes wandered from Pollyooly to the Lump, and she smiled again. Pollyooly flushed again; this time with pride. The pretty girl's eyes