“Long enough, sir, three years or better, since poor Pete went away maybe; and at the books for ever, grammars and tex' books, and I don't know what.” Cæsar, with his ear at the glass, made an impatient gesture for silence, but Grannie continued, “I don't know what for people should be larning themselves foreign languages at all. For my part, there isn't one of them bates the Manx itself for plainness. And aren't we reading, when the Lord wanted to bring confusion on Noah and his disobedient sons and grandsons at going up the Tower of Babel, he made them spake different tongues?” “Good thing too,” snapped Cæsar, “if every poor man was bound to carry his wife up with him.” Philip's eyes were streaming, and, unobserved, he put the lesson-book to his lips. He had guessed its secret. The girl was making herself worthy of him. God bless, her! Kate came downstairs in the dark dress and white collar of Sunday night. She saw Philip putting down the book, lowered her head and blushed, took up the volume, and smuggled it out of sight. Then Cæsar's curiosity conquered his propriety and he ventured into the bar-room, Grannie came and went between the counter and the fishermen, Nancy clicked about from dairy to door, and Kate and Philip were left alone. “You were wrong the other night,” she said. “I have been thinking it over, and you were quite, quite wrong.” “So?” “If a man marries a woman beneath him, he stoops to her, and to stoop to her is to pity her, and to pity her is to be ashamed of her, and to be ashamed of her would kill her. So you are wrong.” “Yes?” said Philip. “Yes,” said Kate, “but do you know what it ought to be? The _woman_ ought to marry beneath herself, and the man _above_ himself; then as much as the woman descends, the man rises, and so-----don't you see?” She faltered and stopped, and Philip said, “Aren't you talking nonsense,' Kate?” “Indeed, sir!” Kate pretended to be angry at the rebuff, and pouted her lips, but her eyes were beaming. “There is neither above nor below where there is real liking,” said Philip. “If you like any one, and she is necessary to your life, that is the sign of your natural equality. It is God's sign, and all the rest is only man's book-keeping.” “You mean,” said Kate, trying to keep a grave mouth, “you mean that if a woman belongs to some one she can like, and some one belongs to her, that is being equal, and everything else is nothing? Eh?” “Why not?” said Philip. It was music to her, but she wagged her head solemnly and said, “I'm sure you're wrong, Philip. I am, though. Yes, indeed I am. But it's no use arguing. Not against you. Only----” The glorious choir of love-birds in her bosom were singing so loud that she could say no more, and the irresistible one had his way. After a while, she stuffed something into the fire. “What's that?” said Philip. “Oh, nothing,” she answered brightly. It was the French exercise-book. XVI.