"Which be a bit different to bellerin'!" chuckled the Tinker. Diana merely glanced at him, whereupon he began to hammer away lustily, in spite of which I fancied I heard him chuckle again. Turning to the title page of the little book I saw this: ETIQUETTE FOR THE FAIR SEX BEING HINTS ON FEMININE MANNERS & DEPORTMENT. BY AN ACKNOWLEDGED SCION OF THE BON TON. "It's a rather terrible book, I think," sighed Diana. "Not a doubt of it," said I. "What do you think, Jerry?" "Aye," he nodded, "I used to sell that book once, or one like it--" "I mean," explained Diana, "it will be terribly hard to teach myself to do everything it says--" "Indeed, I should think so," I nodded. "You see," she mourned, "I--I didn't act a bit right when you--told me you--loved me--" "Ah, but you did, Diana--" "No, Peregrine, I was quite wrong and oh, most unladylike!" "How so?" "Well, I didn't tremble with maiden modesty or yield my hand coyly and by degrees, or droop my lashes, or falter with my breath--or--" "Why in the world should you?" "Because all ladies must do that--let me show you." So saying she took the book, turned over a leaf or so, and putting it into my hand, bade me read aloud, which I did, as follows: "'UPON RECEIVING A PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE. On this trying occasion, should the answer be in the affirmative, yield the hand coyly and by degrees to the passion of the happy suitor's lips; at the same time the lashes must droop, the whole form tremble with maiden modesty, the breath must falter and the bosom surge a little, though perceptibly--'" My voice faltered and in spite of my efforts I burst out laughing, while Jeremy began to hammer again; whereupon Diana wrested the book from me and stood, flushed and angry, viewing me in lofty disdain. "O Diana," I pleaded, "don't be offended, and don't--do not trouble your dear head over that foolish book--" "Foolish!" she exclaimed indignantly. "Why, it's to teach ladies how to behave, and written by--" "By a snuffy old rascal in some pothouse, like as not, Diana--" Here she turned and hasted away, but I sped after her and seeing the quiver of her lips and her dear eyes a-swim with tears, my own grew moist also. "O Peregrine," sighed she, "I thought the book was foolish too--but for your sake--to be a lady--" "O girl!" I cried, clasping her to me. "Dear goddess of the Silent Places, you are above all such silly pettinesses as this book; no woodland nymph or dryad could ever learn such paltry affectations and Diana herself would look a fool with a fan or a reticule. It is your own sweet, natural self I love, just as you are and for what you are." "But you're a gentleman and I ought to be a lady." "Be my own goddess Diana, and let me worship you as such." "Why, then, let me go, Peregrine, for your goddess has the supper to prepare!" Reluctantly I obeyed her, and coming back, found the Tinker seated upon his anvil, lost in a profound meditation.