There was so much to do on first taking possession of the cottage, that they determined to postpone the pursuit of their studies until they felt more at home. The Professor had his teaching to attend to, as usual, and the Doctor his hospital, and when they met in the evenings they were too much engaged in carpentering and painting to be able to attend to anything else. Meanwhile, however, the resolution he had arrived at respecting Hannah Stubbs, had not deserted the Professor’s mind, and it was not long before he mooted the question to her. He saw more of the girl than the Doctor did. Steinberg had his hospital duties to attend to, and occasionally they kept him from home all the evening, but Ricardo’s work was more irregular. Sometimes he had but two or three lessons to give during the day--sometimes eight or nine. One day he would be employed all the morning and have his afternoon free--on another, he would lounge in his arm-chair, robed in a dressing-gown, and reading his favourite authors, until noon, and rush away directly after his luncheon, not to appear again until it was time for supper. Hannah had but little hard work to do, as neither of the gentlemen took dinner at home, and their morning and evening meals were very light. She had the whole day to scrub and polish the rooms, and being a clean girl by nature, she took a pride in making them as bright as it was in the power of soap and water to do. It was one of the Professor’s afternoons at home, and she was in the midst of cleaning her little kitchen when he called her into the front room. “Hannah, I feel lonely,” he said, “I want you to leave off work and come and sit with me!” “Lor! Sig-nor, it’s impossible! I’se all of a muck, and the kitchen’s flooded with water!” “Then wipe it up as soon as you can, and come to me. I want you to sew some buttons on my clean shirt!” The girl did as she was desired, for amongst the anomalies that beset this strange creature, was her capacity for needlework, the most delicate of which did not seem to come amiss to her clumsy fingers. As soon as she had mopped up her kitchen floor, she put on a clean apron and brought her work basket into the Professor’s room. There she found various articles awaiting her, to mend, and taking a chair at the furthest end of the little apartment, she applied herself to her work. “Hannah!” said the Professor, presently, between the puffs of his meerschaum pipe, “have you ever thought about getting married?” The girl reddened; looked up quickly; and then dashed her hand across her eyes to brush away a tear. “Lor! Sir, in course I ’ave! You’re a’forgetting of Joe!” “To be sure! You must forgive me, Hannah! But you will never see any more of Joe, you tell me!” “I don’t think so, Sig-nor! ’E’s a young man of ’is word, Joe is, and what ’e says ’e sticks to,” replied Hannah, with a heavy sigh. “But you don’t mean to remain unmarried for ever, for his sake, do you, Hannah? He is not worth it!”