berly; then he said in gloomy tones, "Here's your check for twenty pounds from that money-lending rascal. What are you going to do with it?"
Pollyooly looked at the slip of paper in some bewilderment, for it was probably the first time in her life she had ever given any attention to a check, if, indeed, she had ever seen one before.
"Is it—is it twenty pounds, sir?" she said.
"Yes; it's an open check, and if you take it to the City of London Bank they will give you twenty pounds for it. It's a great deal of money for a child like you to have; and if you'd been properly brought up you'd have an account with the Post-Office Savings Bank, and put it into it," he said gloomily.
"I was properly brought up!" cried Pollyooly with some heat. "Mrs. Brown always says that Aunt Hannah brought me up ever so properly. And I have a Post-Office Savings Bank book."
"Oh, you have, have you?" said Mr. Gedge-Tomkins in a tone of considerable surprise, for he still cherished his unfavorable opinion of Pollyooly's character.
"And there's more than two pounds in it," said Pollyooly.
