Not I, it is needless to say.
Who is it, then?
Mamma Farnaby herself.

He has actually so interested her that she has been thinking of him, and dreaming of him, in his absence! I heard her last night, poor thing, talking and grinding her teeth in her sleep; and I went into her room to try if I could quiet her, in the usual way, by putting my cool hand on her forehead, and pressing it gently.

(The old doctor says it's magnetism, which is ridiculous.) Well, it didn't succeed this time; she went on muttering, and making that dreadful sound with her teeth.

Occasionally a word was spoken clearly enough to be intelligible.

I could make no connected sense of what I heard; but I could positively discover this--that she was dreaming of our guest from America! I said nothing about it, of course, when I went upstairs with her cup of tea this morning.