“Too late--I've lost it,” said Nancy, and there was yet more laughter. To put an end to this frivolity, Cæsar raised a hymn, and they sang it together with cheerful voices. Then Cæsar prayed appropriately, John the Clerk improvised responses, and Pete went out and sat on the bottom step in the lobby and smoked up the stairs, so that Kate in the bedroom should not feel too lonely. XV. Meanwhile Kate, overwhelmed with shame, humiliation, self-reproach, horror of herself, and dread of everything, lay with cheeks ablaze and her head buried in the bedclothes. She had no longer any need to pretend to be sick; she was now sick in reality. Fate had threatened her. She had challenged it. They were gambling together. The stake was her love, her life, her doom. By the next day she had worked herself into a nervous fever. Dr. Mylechreest came to see her, unbidden of the family. He was one of those tall, bashful men who, in their eagerness to be gone, seem always to have urgent business somewhere else. After a single glance at her and a few muttered syllables, he went off hurriedly, as if some one were waiting for him round the corner. But on going downstairs he met Cæsar, who asked him how he found her. “Feverish, very; keep her in bed,” he answered. “As for this marriage, it must be put off. She's exciting herself, and I won't answer for the consequences. The thing has fallen too suddenly. To tell you the truth--this way, Mr. Cregeen--I am afraid of a malady of the brain.” “Tut, tut, doctor,” said Cæsar. “Very well, if you know better. Good-day! But let the wedding wait. _Traa dy liooar_--time enough, Mr. Cregeen. A right good Manx maxim for once. Put it off--put it off!” “It's not my putting off, doctor. What can you do with a man that's wanting to be married? You can't bridle a horse with pincers.” But when the doctor was gone, Cæsar said to Grannie, “Cut out the bridesmaids and the wedding-cakes and the fiddles and the foolery, and let the girl be married immadiently.” “Dear heart alive, father, what's all the hurry?” said Grannie. “And Lord bless my soul, what's all the fuss?” said Cæsar. “First one objecting this, then another objecting that, as if everybody was intarmined to stop the thing. It's going on, I'm telling you; d'ye hear me? There's many a slip--but no matter. What's written with the pen can't be cut out with the axe, so lave it alone, the lot of you.” Kate was in an ecstasy of exultation. The doctor had been sent by Philip. It was Philip who was trying to stop the marriage. He would never be able to bear it; he would claim her soon. It might be to-day, it might be to-morrow, it might be the next day. The odds were with her. Fate was being worsted. Thus she clung to her blind faith that Philip would intervene.