"Let me resume. In the midst of what used to be called a 'love passage,' the door opened, and in walked Peter Dearlove with a basin of beef-tea. So quietly did he enter, that the first announcement of his presence was a terrific sound which my experience can compare with nothing unless it be whooping-cough--the whooping-cough of a robust adult. "'This,' he remarked, setting down the tray and eyeing Tamsin severely, 'ain't nussin' properly so called.' "I do not think we made any answer to this. "'Ef a name es to be found for 't, 'tain't so much 'nussin'' as 'goin's on.'' "'Your sister has promised to be my wife,' I ventured. "'Beggin' your pard'n, sir, but the Catechism has summat to say to that.' "'The Catechism?' "'Iss, sir--'that stashun o' life.' An' not a word 'bout raisin' et, even by th' use o' globes--which some considers unekalled.' "I put out my hand to cover Tamsin's, and looked up into her face before I answered him with some heat-- "'I won't affect to misunderstand you. You mean that I am marrying beneath me?' "He hesitated. "'There's two meanin's to 'beneath'' "'Ah!' I cried, 'I am glad you see that.' "He looked at me slowly and continued-- "'Second p'int. Not so long agone you was talkin' of a Geraldin." "I glanced at Tamsin again and comprehended. "'I have been talking--?' "She nodded. "'And you know it all--the whole story?' "She nodded again, with a world of healing pity in her eyes. Then, with a swift glance at her brother, she stooped and kissed me. "'Oh!' said Peter, very shortly; 'I'm thinkin' I'd best see Paul 'bout this;' and with that he disappeared. "Whereupon," concluded Mr. Fogo, "I think I must have dropped asleep again, for I remember nothing after this--at least, nothing that is worth mention." It is quite true that Mr. Fogo dropped asleep. He slept, moreover, for a considerable time, and awoke to find Caleb seated beside the bed. "Where is Tam--Miss Dearlove?" he asked. "There ain't no Dearlove, as I knaws by, called Tammis. The males was chris'n'd Peter an' Paul, the female Thomasina: an' they'm gone." "Gone?" "Gone, an' left we like Hocken's duck, wi'out mate or fellow." "How long?" "Matter o' five hour'." There was a long silence. "Caleb!" "Aye, aye, sir." "How long do you think it will be before I can get about--be fit to go downstairs, I mean?" "Well, sir, I reckon et depends on yoursel'. Try, an' 'twill come, as the Doctor said when Bill swallered 'arf-a-crown an' wanted to get et up agen by Lady-Day, rent bein' doo." "Do you think a week would do it?" "Better say a fortni't, sir." "What day is it to-day?" "Thursday." "Have I been ill for two days?" "For a fortni't an' two days." "Bless my soul!" "Amen, sir." "Caleb, would you mind writing a letter for me?"