first impression--before I made any sign. The sunshine--it was
morning--fell on her head as she bent over her needles, and
emphasised that peculiar bloom of gold which (you may have noticed)
her brown locks possess. Her lashes, too, as they drooped upon a
cheek pale (as I could perceive) beyond its wont, had a glimmer of
the same golden tint. Altogether I thought her more beautiful than I
ever imagined; and to this day," he added in an outburst of
confidence, "I frequently decoy her to a seat in the sunlight, that I
may taste a renewal of the sensations I enjoyed that morning.
Some day, perhaps, you will be better able to sympathise with this
caprice.

"I had been lying thus for some time, luxuriously drinking in her
loveliness, when her eyes lifted and met mine. And then--well, I can
hardly tell you what happened then, except that I do not believe a
word was spoken on either side. I suppose our eyes had told enough.
Anyhow, the next thing I remember is that my dear girl's head was on
my breast, and one arm flung across the pillow that supported my
head. I have a dim recollection, too, of trying to smooth her hair,
and finding my strength too feeble even for that. That is all, I
think; except that we were ludicrously happy, of course--Tamsin
smiling with moist eyes, while I lay still and let the joy of it
trickle in my veins. 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