I am extremely obliged to you, my dear young
friend, for not laughing outright at this confession. It encourages
me to add, for exactness, that Tamsin kept putting her hand up to the
back of her head. She has since explained that she felt sure her
'back-hair' was coming down. Women are curious creatures.
"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.
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