And Selina, too; I haven't given 'er anything except a
ring, and she lent me the money for that. D'ye think I'm made o' money?"

"All right, Joseph," said Mr. Vickers, secretly incensed at this
unforeseen display of caution on Mr. Tasker's part. "I s'pose the
fairies come and put'em on while they was asleep. But it's dry work
walking; 'ave you got such a thing as a glass o' water you could give
me?"

The other took a glass from the dresser and, ignoring the eye of his
prospective father-in-law, which was glued to a comfortable-looking
barrel in the corner, filled it to the brim with fair water and handed it
to him. Mr. Vickers, giving him a surly nod, took a couple of dainty
sips and placed it on the table.

"It's very nice water," he said, sarcastically.

"Is it?" said Mr. Tasker. "We don't drink it ourselves, except in tea or
coffee; the cap'n says it ain't safe."

Mr. Vickers brought his eye from the barrel and glared at him.

"I s'pose, Joseph," he said, after a long pause, during which Mr. Tasker
was busy making up the fire--"I s'pose Selina didn't tell you you wasn't
to tell me about the money?"

"I don't know what you're driving at," said the other, confronting him
angrily. "I haven't got no money."

Mr. Vickers coughed. "Don't say that, Joseph," he urged, softly; "don't
say that, my lad. As a matter o' fact, I come round to you, interrupting
of you in your work, and I'm sorry for it--knowing how fond of it you
are--to see whether I couldn't borrow a trifle for a day or two."

"Ho, did you?" commented Mr. Tasker, who had opened the oven door and was
using his hand as a thermometer.

His visitor hesitated. It was no use asking for too much; on the other
hand, to ask for less than he could get would be unpardonable folly.

"If I could lay my hand on a couple o' quid," he said, in a mysterious
whisper, "I could make it five in a week."

"Well, why don't you?" inquired Mr. Tasker, who was tenderly sucking the
bulb of the thermometer after contact with the side of the oven.

"It's the two quid that's the trouble, Joseph," replied Mr. Vickers,
keeping his temper with difficulty. "A little thing like that wouldn't
be much trouble to you, I know, but to a pore man with a large family
like me it's a'most impossible."

Mr. Tasker went outside to the larder, and returning with a small joint
knelt down and thrust it carefully into the oven.

"A'most impossible," repeated Mr. Vickers, with a sigh.