With no little difficulty Gammon led him away, and by means of an
omnibus landed him at length near St. Martin's Church. No entreaty
could induce the man to give his address. He protested that a few
minutes' walk would bring him home, and as he seemed to have sobered
sufficiently, Gammon left him sitting on the church steps--a strange
object in his borrowed suit of mourning and his antiquated top hat.





CHAPTER VI

THE HEAD WAITER AT CHAFFEY'S




Polly Sparkes had a father. That Mr. Sparkes still lived was not
known to the outer circles of Polly's acquaintance; she never spoke
of her family, and it was not easy to think of Polly in the filial
relation. For some years she had lived in complete independence, now
and then exchanging a letter with her parent, but seeing him rarely.
Not that they were on ill terms, unpleasantness of that kind had
been avoided by their satisfaction in living apart. Polly sometimes
wished she had a father "to be proud of"--a sufficiently
intelligible phrase on Polly's lips; but for the rest she thought of
him with tolerance as a good, silly sort of man, who "couldn't help
himself"--that is to say, could not help being what he was.