fash'nubbleness was to begin so smart; or us wou'dn't have
introoded--spesh'ly Tamsin. Tamsin was thinkin' this mornin' as a
pound of fresh butter might be acceptable to the gentl'm'n down at
Kit's House, wi' ha'f a dozen fresh eggs or so, 'cos her Minorcy hen
began to lay agen last week, an' the spickaty Hamburg as allays lays
double yolks; an' Paul an' me agreed you wudn' be above acceptin' a
little present o' this natur', not seemin' proud, an' Tamsin shou'd
bring et hersel', the eggs bein' hers in a manner o' speakin'.
But us was not wishful to introod, sir, an' iver since us seed the
board here, her's been keepin' her distance in the boat yonder; on'y
us stepped ashore to larn ef there was anything us cou'd do to make
things ship-shape an' fitty for 'ee."

At the end of this long address, Peter, whose mahogany face was
several shades deeper, pulled up, and resumed his hat.

"Ship-shape an' fitty--not wishful for to introod. That's so,
Peter," echoed his brother.

Mr. Fogo looked at the pair helplessly, and again at Caleb, whose
eyes were obstinately averted.

"Caleb!"

"Sir."

"Ask Miss Dearlove if she would mind stepping ashore."

With a sudden brightening of face, Caleb called her name.
Tamsin looked up.