hear is to let."

"Thankin' you kindly, sir," answered Peter; "an' I won't say but what
we shall be glad to let et. But Paul and I ha' been puttin' our
heads togither, and we allow 'tes for Tamsin to say."

Here he looked at Paul, who nodded gravely and repeated, in his
former mechanical tone, "for Tamsin to say."

Mr. Fogo looked more distressed than ever.

"I beg your pardon, I'm sure," he began, with a quick glance at the
girl, who was quietly pouring tea; "I did not know."

"No offence, sir. On'y, don't you see, 'tes this way. Kit's House
es a gran' place wi' a slaty roof an' a I-talian garden, and a mighty
deal too fine for the likes of Paul an' me. But wi' Tamsin 'tes
another thing. We both agree she ought to be a leddy--not but what
she's a better gal than tens o' thousands o' leddies--an' more than
once we've offered to get her larnt the pi-anner an' callysthenics,
an' the use o' globes, an' all such things which we knows to be usual
in gran' sussiety; on'y she sticks to et to bide along wi' we.
God bless her! I say, an' a rough life et must be for her."

Tamsin turned away towards the fireplace, and became very busy among
the pot-hooks and hangers. Her brother pulled out a red
handkerchief--a fellow to the one around his neck--mopped his face
and proceeded--

"Well, as I was a-saying, seein' she was bent on bein' wi' us, Paul