The Astonishing History of Troy Town Part 51

"_You?_"

Sam nodded desperately. "She asked me to elope with her--to meet her at Five Lanes."

Mr. Moggridge staggered up to his feet, and fumbled in his waistcoat pocket.

"You are mad!" he gasped. "She asked _me_ to elope with her--_me_ to meet her at the top of Troy Hill. Look here!" He held out a crumpled letter. Sam took it, glanced at it, produced an exactly similar note, and handed it to his friend.

They read each the other's letter sentence by sentence, and in doleful antiphon. At the conclusion they looked up, and met each other's gaze; whereat Mr. Moggridge smote his brow and cried--

"False, false!"

While Sam pushed his hands deep into his trouser-pockets and emitted a long breath, as though, his cup being full, he must needs blow off the froth.

"Do you mean to say," he asked, after a pause, "that you helped her to land the stuff?"

"I thought it was Tea."

"And you never examined it?"

"She told me it was Tea."

"Moggridge, you have been given away, as the Yankees put it. I have been sold, which is bad; but you have been 'given away,' which is worse."

"You were sold for 'love,' which is pretty much the same, I take it, as being given away," objected the Poet testily.

"Not at all the same, Moggridge, as being given away--with half a pound of Tea."

Footnote, Chapter XXIII [1] Medicine.

CHAPTER XXIV.

OF THE BEST h.e.l.lEBORE; AND AN EXPERIMENT IN THE ENTERTAINMENT OF TWINS.

For three days Mr. Fogo continued to propose. On the evening of the third day the little Doctor shook his head. After this, for about a week, Mr. Fogo proposed and the Doctor shook his head at intervals.

Finally, and in the middle of a sentence, the patient fell into a deep slumber.

When he awoke, it was to the conviction that he, Mr. Fogo, being a bolster, had been robbed of his rightful stuffing by some person or persons unknown. He had lain for some time pondering this situation with a growing resentment, when he was aware of some one sitting between him and the sunshine.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I am Tamsin Dearlove."

The remark made by Diogenes under somewhat like circ.u.mstances would have been ungallant. In the process of searching for a better the sick man fell asleep again.

What happened on his next return to consciousness shall be given in his own words. He told me the story last autumn:--

"You see," he explained shyly, "I have not, my dear young friend, that ingenuity of phrase which I so admire in you" (I protest I have not the heart to suppress this tribute), "but seeing that, in such a case, experience counts for something--and naturally, at your age, you have yet to learn what it is to propose to a woman--I think I had better tell you exactly what happened, the more so as it is a matter which, if, as you a.s.sure me, necessary to your chronicle, I desire to be related with accuracy. I am not, you understand, in the least reflecting on your love of truth, but, after all, I _did_, as the obnoxious phrase has it, 'propose' to Tamsin, whereas you--ahem--did _not_."

I am convinced my friend meant to say "would not have had the infernal impudence," but softened the expression, being habitually careful of the feelings of others.

"When I awoke again," he went on, "she was seated in the window, knitting. I lay for a long while watching her--indeed, this is my 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 pa.s.sage,' 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. You mean that I am marrying beneath me?'

"He hesitated.

"'There's two meanin's to 'beneath''

"'Ah!' I cried, 'I am glad you see that.'

"He looked at me slowly and continued--

"'Second p'int. Not so long agone you was talkin' of a Geraldin."

"I glanced at Tamsin again and comprehended.

"'I have been talking--?'

"She nodded.

"'And you know it all--the whole story?'