He was answered by the appearance of Caleb, who marched up to Tamsin with a woeful face, and announced in a loud whisper that "Suthin' was up wi' the soup."
"I think," said she, rising, "if you will let me help—"
"Sutt'nly," assented Peter in a loud tone. "To be sure—that es, beggin' your pard'n, sir," he added apologetically.
"It is very good of you," said Mr. Fogo.
"I should like to help," she explained, and followed Caleb to the kitchen.
Somehow, with her absence, an oppressive silence fell on the three men. Peter coughed at intervals, and once even began a sentence, but stopped halfway. Mr. Fogo did not heed him, but had fallen to drumming softly with his spoon upon the table. A full five minutes passed thus, and then he started to his feet.
"Must you really be going?"
"Eh?"
"It is early yet; but I suppose you have some distance to go?"
"What?"