But at this point the kettle began to boil. She filled the tea-pot, and replaced the kettle on the hob. As she turned, she was aware of a clearer look in Mr. Fogo's eyes. She smiled and nodded. "You are better." "Much. I can remember it all, after a fashion. Did I talk nonsense?" "A little." She smiled again. His eyes followed her as she moved about the kitchen. Presently he said-- "You are very good to me." "I think I am." "Tamsin--" She turned suddenly to the table, and caught up the teapot. "Do you know," she asked, "that tea is worthless if it stands for more than five minutes?" She filled a cup, and gave it to him with a hand that trembled slightly. He sipped, and scalded his lip. "Tamsin--" "My name is Dearlove," she said shortly, "and you are spilling the tea." There was silence for a minute or so. Mr. Fogo stirred his tea abstractedly. Tamsin, whose shoes were soaked, put one foot upon the fender, and bent her gaze upon the fire. "I would give something," observed Mr. Fogo suddenly, in desperate reverie, "to know how other people manage it. It was moonlight when I proposed to Geraldine. I began by squeezing her hand, if I remem--" He looked up, and found her regarding him with eyes ablaze. But luckily at this moment the door opened, and Caleb appeared. He was evidently much agitated; but at sight of Tamsin and the woeful figure in the armchair, he halted on the threshold and stared dumbly. "I think," said Tamsin, "you had better put your master to bed." "Mussy 'pon us, what's been doin'?" Briefly she told as much as she knew. With each successive sentence Caleb's mouth and eyes opened wider. "And now," she ended, "as Peter and Paul have been waiting for their dinner this half-hour, I will be going. Don't trouble to come with me; but attend to your master. Good-morning, sir." She dropped him a low curtsey and was gone. He started up. "Where be goin', sir? Sit down; you'm not fit to stir." But Mr. Fogo had passed him, and was out of the room in a moment. In spite of the pain that racked every limb, he overtook Tamsin in the porch. "What are you doing?" she cried. "Go back to bed." As she faced him, he could see that her eyes were full of angry tears. The sight checked him. "It's--it's of no consequence," he stammered, "only I was going to ask you to be my wife." For answer she turned on her heel, and walked resolutely down the steps. Mr. Fogo stood and watched her until she disappeared, and then crawled painfully back into the house. "An' now, sir," said Caleb, as he led his master to bed, "warnin' et es. This day month, I goes, unless--" "Unless what, Caleb?" "Well, sir, I reckons there be on'y wan way out o't, as the cat said by the sausage-machine, an' that es--to marry Tamsin Dearlove." "My dear Caleb," groaned Mr. Fogo, "I only wish I could! But I will try again to-morrow." CHAPTER XXIII. HOW ONE LOVER TOOK LEAVE OF HIS WITS, AND TWO CAME TO THEIR SENSES.