Why cannot you let us alone? I hate you! Yes, I hope there is no doubt now that I am low--hate you!"

She stamped her foot in pa.s.sion as two angry tears sparkled in her eyes.

"Why, Tamsin!" cried Paul's voice at the door, "the Shenachrum not ready yet? I niver knawed 'ee so long afore."

She turned sharply, caught up the pan, and stooped over the fire again. But the glow on her cheeks now was hotter than any fire could bring.

"'Tes rare stuff, sir," said the Twin encouragingly, as Tamsin filled a steaming gla.s.s, and handed it, without a look, to Mr. Fogo.

"Leastways, 'tes thought a deal of i' these parts by them as, wi'out bein' perlite, es yet reckoned jedges."

Mr. Fogo took the gla.s.s and sipped bravely. The stuff was so hot that tears sprang to his eyes, but he gulped it down, nevertheless.

"An' now, sir," began Peter, who had joined the group, and was looking on approvingly, "Paul an' me was considerin' in the back-kitchen, an' agreed that makin' so bold as to ax 'ee, an' hopin'

'twont' be thought over free, you must stay the night, seein' you've took this cold, an' the night air bein', as es well known, terrable apt to give 'ee inflammation."

"We'd planned," put in Paul, "to go down wi' the boat to Kit's House an' fetch up your things, and tell Caleb about et, so's he shudn' be decomposed. An' Tamsin'll tell 'ee there's a room at your sarvice, an' reckoned purty--lookin' on to the bee-skeps an' the orchard at the back," he explained with a meaning glance at Tamsin, who was silent.

"Why, Tamsin, girl, what's amiss that you don't spake?" asked Peter; and then his amazement got the better of his tact, as he added in a stage whisper, "'Tes on'y to change rooms. Paul an' me can aisy sleep down here afore the fire; an' us on'y offered your room as bein' more genteel--"

"I a.s.sure you," broke in Mr. Fogo, "that I am quite recovered of my chill, thanks to your kindness, and would rather return--much rather: though I thank you all the same." He spoke to the Twins, but kept his eyes on Tamsin.

"No kindness at all," muttered Peter. His face fell, and he, too, looked at the girl.

Finding their eyes upon her, she was compelled to speak.

"Mr. Fogo wudn' care for the likes o' what we cou'd offer him," she said. Then, seeing the pain on the men's faces, she added with an effort to be gracious, "But ef he can put up wi' us, he knows he shall be made welcome."

She did not look up, and her voice, in which the peculiar sing-song of Trojan intonation was intentionally emphasised, sounded so strangely that still greater amazement fell upon the Twins.

"Why, Tamsin, I niver knawed 'ee i' this mood afore," stammered Paul.

"I a.s.sure you," interposed Mr. Fogo, "that I value your hospitality more than I can say, and shall not forget it. But it would be absurd to accept it when I am so near home. If one of you would consent to row me down to Kit's House, it would be the exact kindness I should prefer."

The Twins a.s.sented, though not without regret at his refusal to accept more. Paul agreed to row him down, and the two started in the early twilight. As he shook Peter's hand, Mr. Fogo looked at Tamsin.

"Good-night," he said.

"Good-night, sir."

She did not offer to shake hands; she scarcely even looked up, but stood there before the chimney-place, with the fire-light outlining her form and throwing into deep shadow the side of her face that was towards him. One arm was thrown up to grasp the mantelshelf, and against this her head rested. The other hung listlessly at her side.

And this was the picture Mr. Fogo carried out into the grey evening.

As the door closed upon him, Peter sank into the stiff-backed chair beside the hearth with a puzzled sigh.

"Why, Tamsin," he said, as he slowly drew out his pipe and filled it, "what ailed 'ee, girl, to behave like that?"

Looking up, he saw a tear, and then a second, drop brightly on the hearth-stone.

"Little maid!"

Before he could say more she had stepped to him, and, sitting on the chair-arm, had flung her arms around his neck and drawn his head towards her, that he might not look into her face.

"I hate him," she sobbed--"I hate him! I wish I had never seen him.

He despises us, and--and I was so happy before he came."

The Twin set down his pipe upon his knee, and stared into the fire.

"As for hatin', Tamsin," he said gravely, "'tain't right. Us shud love our neighbours, Scriptur' says; an' I reckon that includes tenants. I' the matter o' hes despisin' us, I dunno as you'm right nuther. He's fash'nubble, o' cou'se; but very conformable, considerin'--very conformable. You bain't sorry us let Kit's House, eh, Tamsin? Not hankerin'--"

"No, no."

"I doubt, my dear, we'm poor hands to take care of 'ee, Paul an' me.

Us talks et over togither at times, an' agrees 'twas wrong not to ha'

sent 'ee away to school. Us got a whack o' handbills down, wan time, from different places. You wudn' believe et, my dear," he went on, with something like a laugh, "but Paul an' me a'most came to words over they handbills. 'Tes a curious fac', but at the places where they allowed most holidays, they was most partic'lar about takin'

your own spoon and fork, an' Paul was a stickler agen that. Et grew to be a matter o' prenciple wi' Paul that wheriver you went you shudn' take your own spoon and fork. So us niver came to no understandin'. I doubt 'twas selfish an' us can't understand maidens an' their ways; but say, my dear, ef there's anything can be set right, an' us'll try--"

"No, no. Let me sit here beside you, and I shall be better presently."

She drew a low stool to his side, and sat with her head against his knee, and her dark eyes watching the fire. Peter laid one hand gently on her hair, and wound the brown locks around his fingers.

"All right now?" he asked, after several minutes had pa.s.sed with no sound but the ticking of the clock.

"All right beside you, brother. It is always all right beside you."

CHAPTER XV.

HOW A LADY AND A YOUTH, BEING SEPARATED FROM THEIR COMPANY, VISITED A SHIP THAT HELD NOTHING BUT WATER.

Mr. Fogo and Paul performed the journey back to Kit's House in silence; for Paul was yet wondering at his sister's behaviour, and Mr. Fogo busy with thoughts he could hardly have interpreted.

As they drew near the little quay, they discerned through the darkness, now fast creeping over the river, a boat pushed off by a solitary figure that jumped aboard and began to pull towards them.

"Ahoy, there!" It was Caleb's voice.

"Ahoy, Caleb!" shouted Paul in answer; "anything wrong?"

"Have 'ee seen maaster?"

"Iss, an' got un safe an' sound."

Caleb peered through the gloom and descried Mr. Fogo.

Whatever relief this may have been to his feelings, it called forth no expression beyond a grunt. He turned his boat and pulled back in time to help his master ash.o.r.e. Paul was dismissed with some words of thanks which he declared unnecessary. He would row back in Mr.

Fogo's boat, he said, if he might be allowed, and would bring her down in the early morning. With this and a hearty "Good-night" he left the pair to walk up to the house together.

Caleb was unusually silent during supper, and when his master grew cheery and related the adventures of the day, offered no comment beyond a series of mysterious sounds expressing mental discontent rather than sympathy. Finally, when Mr. Fogo had finished he looked up and began abruptly--