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diff --git a/47925.txt b/47925.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3285b63..0000000 --- a/47925.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7775 +0,0 @@ - POMANDER WALK - - - - -This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online at -http://www.gutenberg.org/license. If you are not located in the United -States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you are -located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Pomander Walk -Author: Louis N. Parker -Release Date: January 09, 2015 [EBook #47925] -Language: English -Character set encoding: US-ASCII - - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POMANDER WALK *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines. - - - - - [Illustration: Cover art] - - - - - [Illustration: Marjolaine] - - - - - [Illustration: Title page] - - - - *Pomander - Walk* - - - by - - LOUIS N. PARKER - - AUTHOR OF - ROSEMARY - - - - ILLUSTRATIONS by - J. SCOTT WILLIAMS - - - - LONDON - JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD - MCMXII - - - - - THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. - - - - - TO - GEORGE C. TYLER - FOR VALOUR - - - - -[Illustration: Contents headpiece] - - *Contents* - -CHAPTER - -I. Concerning the Walk in General - -II. How Sir Peter Antrobus and Jerome Brooke-Hoskyn, Esquire, Smoked a -Pipe Together - -III. Concerning Number Four and Who Lived in It - -IV. Concerning a Mysterious Lady and an Elderly Beau - -V. Concerning What You Have All Been Waiting For - -VI. In which Pomander Walk is not Quite Itself - -VII. Showing How History Repeats Itself - -VIII. Concerning a Great Conspiracy - -IX. In which Old Lovers Meet, and the Conspiracy Comes to a Head - -X. In Which the Mysterious Lady Reappears and Helps Jack to Vanish - -XI. Pomander Walk Takes a Dish of Tea - -XII. In which the Old Conspiracy is Triumphant and a New Conspiracy is -Hatched - -XIII. In which Admiral Sir Peter Antrobus is More Determined Than Ever -to Fire the Little Brass Gun - -XIV. In which Miss Barbara Pennymint Hears the Nightingale and the -Lamps are Lighted - -XV. Showing How the Roundabout Road Leads Back to the Starting Point - - - - -[Illustration: Illustrations headpiece] - - *Illustrations* - - -Marjolaine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . _Frontispiece_ - -Jim--a very active old sailor in spite of his stiff leg - -She spent at least one hour with him every day, listening, as she told -the sympathising Walk, to her dead lover's voice - -"That's right, Brooke! Do your duty, and ---- the consequences!" - -The Reverend Jacob Sternroyd, D.D. - -Caroline Thring - -Mr. Jerome Brooke-Hoskyn at his ease - -"Let us sit quite still and think hard whether we'd like to meet again" - -"She placed her arm very tenderly over her shoulders and gently called -her by name" - -"It's enough to give a body the fantoddles--as my poor dear mother used -to say" - -He started off like an alarm clock - -He seized him by the sleeve, and dragged him, bewildered and protesting, -to the Gazebo - -As the sun came out, out came Mr. Jerome Brooke-Hoskyn, as resplendent -as the sun - -The Eyesore seized the animal by the scruff of his neck and hurled him -into the river - -Then he resumed. "Brooke," says he, "Brooke, my Boy"--just like that - -"Peter!" he cried, scandalised - - - - - *CHAPTER I* - - *CONCERNING THE WALK IN GENERAL* - - -[Illustration: Chapter I headpiece] - - -It lies out Chiswick way, not far from Horace Walpole's house where -later Miss Pinkerton conducted her Academy for Young Ladies. It is -still there, although it was actually built in 1710; but London has -gradually stretched its tentacles towards it, and they will soon absorb -it. Where Marjolaine and Jack made love, there will be a row of blatant -shops, and Sir Peter's house will be replaced by a flaring gin-palace. -It has fallen from its high estate nowadays; and Mrs. Poskett's prophecy -has come true: one of its dainty houses--I think it is the one in which -the Misses Pennymint lived--is now indeed occupied by a person who earns -a precarious living with a mangle. - -Even in the days I am writing about, it was old--ninety-five years -old--and had seen many ups and downs; for I am writing of events that -took place in 1805: the year of Trafalgar; the year of Nelson's death. - -At that time it was a charming, quaint little crescent of six very small -red-brick houses, close to the Thames, facing due south, and with a -beautiful view across the river. - -Why it was called Pomander Walk is more than I can tell you. There is a -tradition that the builder had inherited a beautiful gold pomander of -Venetian filigree and that the word struck him as being pretty and -having an old-world flavour about it. It certainly conferred a sort of -quiet dignity on the crescent; almost too much dignity, indeed, at -first, for it seemed to make the letting of the houses difficult. -Common people fought shy of it, because of the name, yet the houses were -so small that wealthy folk--the Quality--wouldn't look at them. -Ultimately, however, they were occupied by gentlefolk in reduced -circumstances; people who had an eye for the picturesque, people who -sought retirement; and the owner was happy. - -In 1805 it had grown mellow with age. The red bricks of which it was -built had lost the crudeness of their original colour and had acquired a -delicious tone restful to the eye. Pomander Walk was, in fact, one of -the prettiest nooks near London. It stood--and stands--on a little plot -of ground projecting into the river. At the upper end it was cut off -from the rest of the parish of Chiswick by Pomander Creek, which ran a -long way inland and formed a sort of refuge for lazy barges, one of -which was generally lying there with its great brown sail hanging loose -to dry. Chiswick Parish Church was only a little way across the creek, -but in order to get to it you had to walk very nearly a mile to the -first bridge, and I am afraid Sir Peter Antrobus too often made that an -excuse for not attending more than two services on a Sunday. - -The little houses were built in the sober and staid style introduced -during the reign of Her Gracious Majesty Queen Anne (now deceased). The -architect had taken a slily humorous delight in making them miniature -copies of much more pretentious town mansions. Each little house had -its elaborate door with a shell-shaped lintel; each had its miniature -front-garden, divided from the road-way by elaborate iron railings; and -each had an ornate iron gate with link-extinguisher complete. You might -have thought the houses were meant to be inhabited by very small Dukes, -so stately were they in their tiny way. The ground-floor sitting-rooms -all had bow-windows, and in each bow-window the occupants displayed -their dearest treasures, generally under a glass globe. A glance at -these would almost have been enough to tell you what manner of people -their owners were. In the first, at the top corner of the crescent, -stood the model of a man-of-war. The second displayed a silver cup with -the arms of the City of London carefully turned outward for the -passer-by to admire respectfully; the third showed a stuffed canary; the -fourth was empty--I will tell you why later; the fifth presented a -pinchbeck snuff-box, and in the sixth there was an untidy pile of old -books. - -In front of the crescent lay a delightful lawn, always admirably kept. -Jim, Sir Peter Antrobus's man, mowed it regularly every Saturday -afternoon. This lawn was protected on the river-side by a chain hanging -from white posts. You never saw posts so white as those were, for every -Saturday evening Jim--a very active old sailor in spite of his stiff -leg--gave them a fresh coat of paint; he even went so far as to paint -the chain as well. - -[Illustration: JIM,--A VERY ACTIVE OLD SAILOR IN SPITE OF HIS STIFF LEG] - -In the lower corner of the lawn, and facing the bend of the river, stood -what the inhabitants of the Walk called the Gazebo, a little shelter -formed by a well-trimmed boxwood hedge, in which was a rustic seat. Sir -Peter Antrobus and Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn would sit there on warm summer -evenings and discuss the news of the day--or, let me rather say--the -news of the day before yesterday; for the only journal they saw was a -three days old "Globe" which Sir Peter's cousin sent him when he had -done with it, and when he thought of it. - -The great charm of the Gazebo was that it was sufficiently removed from -the houses to ensure strict privacy: the ladies of the Walk, who shared -fully in their sex's attribute of curiosity, could neither see nor hear -what went on in its seclusion, and Sir Peter, who thought he was a -woman-hater, was all the more fond of it on that account. In his own -house he really could not talk at his ease, for his voice had, by long -struggles against gales, acquired a tremendous carrying power; the -party-wall was very thin, and his next-door neighbour, Mrs. Poskett, -was--or, at least, so he imagined--always listening. - -But the pride of the Walk was a great elm-tree standing in the centre of -the lawn, and shading it delightfully. A very ancient tree, much older -than the Walk: indeed, the crescent had, in a manner of speaking, been -built round it. At its base Jim--there was really no limit to the -things Jim could do--had built a comfortable seat which encircled its -trunk, and this seat was the special prerogative of the ladies of the -Walk when it was not occupied by Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn's numerous progeny. - -I think I have told you all that is necessary about the external -features of the Walk. You must see it with sympathetic eyes, if you are -not to laugh at it: a little crescent of six very small old red-brick -houses; in front of them, six tiny gardens full at all seasons of the -year of bright old-fashioned flowers; then the highly ornamental -railings and stately gates; then a red-brick pavement, or side-walk; -then a broad path; and then the lawn, the elm-tree, and the Gazebo. -Beyond this, the Thames, bearing great brown barges up to Richmond or -down to Chelsea, according to the state of the tide; and the Parish -Church of Chiswick, half buried in the foliage of stately trees, as a -fitting background. - -You could not find a quieter, more peaceful, or more forgotten spot near -London in a month's search; for the only way into the Walk was along a -very narrow path by the side of Pomander Creek: a path the children of -Chiswick had been sternly forbidden to use, and which even their elders -only attempted when they were more than usually sober, for fear of -falling into the creek. So, although the Walk was nominally open to the -public, it was not a thoroughfare, as you had to go out the same way as -you went in. Strangers very seldom found their way to its precincts, and -to all intents and purposes the lawn and the Gazebo had grown to be the -private property of the inhabitants. As their rooms were extremely -small, they made the lawn a sort of common drawing-room, where they -entertained each other in a modest way with a dish of tea. After Mr. -Basil Pringle and Madame Lachesnais and her daughter had come to live in -the Walk there would even be music on the lawn. Madame would bring out -her harp, Mr. Pringle his violin, and Marjolaine would sing quaint old -French ditties. - -I pity the unhappy stranger who stumbled into the Walk on such an -occasion. The music would stop dead. Teacups would hang suspended -half-way to expectant lips, and all eyes would be turned on the intruder -with a stare which, if he had any marrow, would infallibly freeze it. -Then to see Sir Peter throw his chest out, march up to the stranger and -ask him what he wanted in a voice which masked a volcanic rage under -courteous tones, was to behold a thing never to be forgotten. All the -stranger could do was to stammer an apology and beat a retreat; but for -days the memory of the unknown danger he had escaped would haunt him. - -Sir Peter Antrobus--Admiral Sir Peter Antrobus--was not a person to be -trifled with, I assure you. In the first place, he lived in the corner -house as you entered the Walk. This gave him a sort of prescriptive -right to sovereignty. You must also consider that he was an Admiral and -that his gallantry had earned him a knighthood. He was, indeed, the -only specimen of actual nobility the Walk had to show, though Mr. -Brooke-Hoskyn could, by much pressure, be induced to admit, that if -everyone had his rights and if lawyers were not such scoundrels, he -himself--but he always broke off there and left you wondering what -degree of the peerage he had claims to. But Sir Peter was undoubtedly a -knight, and his title gave him the _pas_ in all the Walk's social -functions. Not only that, but the Walk looked up to him as its natural -leader and adviser. None of the inhabitants would ever dream of making -any little improvements to their houses without having first consulted -the Admiral. It was he who determined when the lawn needed mowing, the -Gazebo trimming, and it was he who fixed the date for painting the -wood-work and railings of the houses. Also, he chose the colour: a -good, useful green; and anyone who had dared depart from the precise -shade chosen by him, would have heard of it. He was to all intents and -purposes an autocrat, and the Walk trembled at his nod. His rule was -very gentle, however. He kept his one remaining eye steadily fixed on -the Walk; but although it wore a threatening frown and could flash in -fury, the expression lurking in its depth was one of affection. He -loved the Walk with all his heart; he was proud of it with all his soul. -His one ambition was to keep it as spick and span as his own quarterdeck -had been. I think, indeed, he confused it in his mind to some extent -with that quarterdeck, for in his little garden he had erected the model -of a mast, on which he hoisted the Union Jack with his own hands -regularly at sunrise, and as regularly struck it at sunset. And once, -when the Regent had gone by in the Royal barge on his way to Richmond, -he had come out in gala uniform, and dipped it in a Royal salute in the -finest style. The Admiral was salt from head to foot and right through. -He used to call himself a piece of salt junk: for he had been at sea -ever since he was a lad of ten. His bravery and high spirits had -cleared the road for him at a time when the sea was a path of glory for -British mariners, and his culminating recollection was the battle of -Copenhagen, in which he had taken part with Nelson. His only cause for -complaint was that he had been put on half-pay too early. Was not a man -of sixty, hale, hearty, and in the full possession of all his faculties, -worth two whipper-snappers of thirty? And did the loss of an eye -disqualify him? Could he not spy the enemy as quickly with one eye as -with two? As a matter of fact, you could only use one eye with a -spy-glass, and so, what was the good of the other? Answer him that! -Very well, then. - -But these outbursts only came in moments of great depression; generally -after his monthly excursion into town to draw his pay. On these -occasions it was his habit to visit the coffee-houses where sea-captains -of his own standing congregated; in the afternoon he would dine with a -few cronies at the Hummums; later, he might take a taste of the newest -play at Covent Garden--he maintained that the Drama, like the Navy, was -going to the dogs--and after the play there usually followed a jorum of -punch and a church-warden pipe in some hostelry where glees were sung. -Then, in the small hours, he would be lifted into an old, ramshackle -shay, by the faithful Jim; Jim would be lifted beside him, and together -they would steer a devious course towards Chiswick, where the village -constable was on the look-out for them, and would pilot them along the -perilous Creek, unlock the door for them, and deposit them safely in the -passage. What happened after that, which saw the other to bed, or -whether either of them ever got beyond the foot of the stairs, it were -the height of indiscretion to enquire. An English gentleman's house is -his castle, and if an English gentleman is too tired to go upstairs that -is nobody's business but his own. - -The Walk was always aware of these excursions, and on the mornings -following upon them it had become the rule to make as little noise as -possible, so as not to disturb the Admiral's repose. When he ultimately -woke on such mornings it was small wonder he took a jaundiced view of -life, prophesied the immediate stranding of His Majesty's entire Fleet -owing to puerile navigation, and was, generally, in his least amiable -and least hopeful mood. Small wonder, also, that he railed against a -purblind and imbecile government for putting a seasoned officer on the -shelf. A headache modifies one's outlook, and, as Mrs. Poskett was fond -of saying, one should be especially considerate with a man, more -especially a sailor-man, the day after he had drawn his pay--most -especially a sailor-man who, at the mature age of sixty, was still a -bachelor. - -If Sir Peter was a bachelor, that was not Mrs. Poskett's fault. She -herself had only narrowly missed belonging to the minor nobility. -Alderman Poskett, her deceased husband, had died just as he was ripe for -the Shrievalty, and, sure enough, the year he would have been Sheriff -the King had dined with the Lord Mayor, and Poskett would infallibly -have received a knighthood, had he been alive. Mrs. Poskett felt, in a -confused way, that she had been badly used, and that the Walk would only -be stretching ordinary courtesy very slightly by addressing her as Lady -Poskett. Unfortunately this never occurred to the Walk, and as Mrs. -Poskett was determined to achieve the title somehow, she had cast her -eyes on Sir Peter. The latter, however, had not been a handsome -midshipman, and a still handsomer Captain, without acquiring -considerable experience in the wiles of the sex, and, so far, Mrs. -Poskett's blandishments had met with only negative success. Mrs. -Poskett lived next door to the Admiral, and to her great distress there -was a sort of subdued feud between them; a feud she could do nothing to -abate. Could she be expected to get rid of Sempronius, for the sake of -Sir Peter? In the first place, it is not so easy to get rid of a -long-haired, yellow Persian cat. Once, in a fit of desperation at the -failure of her siege on the Admiral's affections, she had put Sempronius -in a market-basket, and she and Abigail--her little maid, fresh from a -Charity School--had carried him quite half a mile and let him loose, -after a tragic farewell, in the middle of a cabbage-field. But when -they got home disconsolate, there was Sempronius washing his face in -front of the fire as if nothing had happened. After that there was -never again any question of getting rid of him. If the Admiral really -feared for the safety of his thrush, why did n't he get rid of the -thrush? Only once had Sempronius been found sitting on the roof of the -osier cage, and extending a soft paw downwards through its bars; the -thrush was singing blithely all the time, and you could see by the -expression on Sempronius's face that his only feeling was one of -admiration for the song. But the Admiral had taken on amazingly, had -stormed and sworn, and promised to throw Sempronius into the river if he -ever caught him at such games again. - -Since that day Mrs. Poskett had felt that she had a very uphill task -before her; but she had set herself to work to become Lady Antrobus with -increased determination. She was heartily encouraged in this by Miss -Ruth Pennymint, who lived in the third house from the top corner--lived -there with her much younger sister, Miss Barbara. - -Miss Ruth, elderly and kind hearted, was an inveterate matchmaker. As -she explained to her bosom friend, Mrs. Brooke-Hoskyn, "My dear," she -said, "I've lived three years with a tragic instance of what comes of -blighted affections; and I'll take precious good care nobody else's -affections get blighted if I can help it." To which Mrs. Brooke-Hoskyn -replied, "And well I understand your meaning, Ruth; for if Mr. -Brooke-Hoskyn had n't asked me to marry him, what I should ha' done I -don't know." Whereupon the two ladies, for no obvious reason, wept -together and were greatly comforted. - -It seems that Miss Barbara had years ago been more or less affianced to -a Lieutenant in the Navy. Not a young lieutenant, an elderly lieutenant -with several characteristics which were doubtful recommendations. But -time had softened the image of the gallant tar in Miss Barbara's -recollection, and the more it receded, the more romantic it had become, -until now she was, not so much in love with her recollections of him, as -with what she could remember of the ideal she had set up in her own -mind. - -In the flesh, Lieutenant Charles--no one had ever heard his surname--had -been a very short, puffy man, with a completely bald head. His language -was interlarded with expletives, suitable, perhaps, to intercourse with -rough sailors in a gale, but devastating on shore in the company of -ladies. Personally, I am not at all certain he had ever actually -proposed to Miss Barbara. I don't believe he knew how. - -The two ladies were living near the Docks at the time, with their -father, who was something in linseed; and I have no doubt Lieutenant -Charles found the old man's Port-wine agreeable and liked to bask in -Miss Barbara's pretty smiles. For Miss Barbara was very pretty indeed; a -bonny, plump little thing, by nature all mirth and laughter. She did -not so much walk as hop like a little bird. She was altogether like a -bird. Her father had always called her his dicky-bird. She kissed just -as a bird pecks, and when she spoke or laughed, it was exactly like the -twitter of birds settling down to sleep at sunset. - -Whether she had ever really been in love with the lieutenant is another -question I must leave unanswered. It is only barely conceivable. To be -sure, girls do fall in love with the most improbable men: even short and -puffy ones; and perhaps the lieutenant's strange oaths bewitched her in -some inexplicable way. The only evidence of practical romance I can -bring forward, is that the lieutenant did undoubtedly present Miss -Barbara on one of his home-comings from distant parts with a grey parrot -with a red tail. To be sure, he may have found the bird an intolerable -nuisance; but this is an ill-natured suggestion. Whether this gift was -intended as a hint, whether the parrot was meant as a dove and harbinger -of a coming proposal, or whether it was an economical return for much -liquid refreshment, the world will never know, for the same night the -lieutenant's inglorious career came to an equally inglorious end. - -This combination of what might, with a little violence, be construed as -a lover's gift with the tragic loss of the lover, was the turning-point -in Miss Barbara's life. Henceforth she convinced herself that she had -been engaged to marry Charles, and she vowed herself to perpetual -spinsterhood and the care of the parrot. - -The care of the parrot was no such easy matter. The bird had made a -long journey in the lieutenant's cabin, and had acquired all the -lieutenant's most picturesque expressions. He was not, therefore, a -bird you could admit into general society with any feeling of comfort, -for although he was generally sulky in the presence of strangers, he -would occasionally, and when you least expected them, rap out a string -of uncomplimentary references to their personal appearance, and consign -them, body and soul, to unmentionable localities, with a clearness of -utterance which left no doubt as to his meaning. - -When Papa Pennymint died, it was found that linseed had not been a -commodity for which the demand had been sufficient to build up anything -approaching a fortune. As a matter of fact, the old man had died just -in time to avoid bankruptcy, and the two ladies had been obliged to sell -their pretty home and to take refuge in Pomander Walk, out of reach of -the genteel friends who had known them in the days of their prosperity. -Of course the bird had come with them; but he had not left his language -behind, and Barbara was forced to keep him shut up in the little back -parlour, out of earshot. There she spent at least one hour with him -every day, listening, as she told the sympathising Walk, to her dead -lover's voice; and it was this constant companionship with the -loquacious bird which had fostered and developed in her mind the legend -of her unhappy love. - -[Illustration: SHE SPENT AT LEAST ONE HOUR WITH HIM EVERY DAY, -LISTENING, AS SHE TOLD THE SYMPATHISING WALK, TO HER DEAD LOVER'S VOICE] - -As a detail, I may as well add here that Barbara had christened the -parrot Doctor Johnson, in honour of the mighty lexicographer, about whom -she knew nothing except that an engraved portrait of him used to hang in -what her father called his study, and that when she asked him who the -original was and what he had done, he said, "Oh, I don't know. Seems he -talked a lot." The parrot talked a lot, and so he was called Doctor -Johnson. I should very much have liked to hear the observations the -Giant of Fleet Street would have made, had he lived long enough to be -aware of the compliment. - -How the Misses Pennymint made both ends meet was a never-ending subject -of discussion between Mrs. Poskett and Mrs. Brooke-Hoskyn. They -regretfully came to the conclusion that the two ladies positively worked -for their living. This was a serious aspersion on the Walk--but there -was a worse one. - -A little while ago a young man--well, a youngish man--with one shoulder -a little higher than the other, had come to live with the Pennymints. At -first they let it be understood that he was a distant cousin come on a -visit; but when weeks passed and then months, he could no longer be -described as a visitor, and the Walk had to face the fact that not only -did the Misses Pennymint work for their living, but that they also kept -a lodger. At first the Walk was consoled with the idea that at any rate -he looked like a gentleman, and might possibly be one. But lately it had -been discovered that he was a mere common fiddler, and played every -evening in the orchestra at Vauxhall Gardens. Yet, in spite of his -ungentlemanly profession, the man did, undoubtedly, behave like a -gentleman. Moreover, it was very difficult to tax the Misses Pennymint -with their ungenteel goings-on; because there was not an inhabitant of -the Walk who had not experienced some kindness at their hands. - -I hope I have conveyed the impression of a quiet and contented little -community. I am sorry to have to add that there was one fly in the -amber of their content. In the early spring of 1805 a mysterious figure -had suddenly appeared in the Walk. A fisherman. A gaunt creature in an -indescribable slouch hat: the sort of hat you do not pick up when you -see it lying in the road; his bony form was encased in a long, -nondescript linen garment, something like a carter's smock-frock. This -had once been white, but was now of every shade of brown. It had -enormous pockets, bulging with unthinkable contents. One morning the -Walk had awakened to find him sitting at the corner where Pomander Creek -empties into the Thames; sitting on an old box, with a dreadful tin -vessel full of worms at his side; sitting fishing. The Walk rubbed its -eyes and wondered what the Admiral would say. When the Admiral came out -of his house he stopped aghast. Then he gathered himself together for a -mighty effort. But it came to nothing: you cannot argue with a man who -refuses to argue back. The fisherman met Sir Peter's first onslaught -with a curt "Public thoroughfare," and then definitely closed his lips. -Sir Peter raked him fore and aft, but never got another syllable out of -him. Ultimately he retired baffled and beaten. Henceforward the -fisherman came to his pitch every day, except Sunday. The Walk grew -accustomed, if not reconciled, to his presence by slow degrees. They -spoke of him among themselves as the Eyesore. - - - - - *CHAPTER II* - - *HOW SIR PETER ANTROBUS AND JEROME BROOKE-HOSKYN, - ESQUIRE, SMOKED A PIPE TOGETHER* - - -[Illustration: Chapter II headpiece] - - -On Saturday afternoon, May 25, 1805, Pomander Walk was looking its very -best. The sun transfigured the old houses; the elm rustled in the -river-breeze; the Admiral's thrush was singing wistfully; Mrs. Poskett's -cat, Sempronius, was seated in her little front garden, wistfully -listening to the bird's song; the Eyesore was patiently wasting worms on -discriminating fish who knew a hook when they saw it; and Sir Peter -Antrobus and Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn, both in their shirt-sleeves, were -finishing a game of quoits. - -"A ringer!" shouted Sir Peter, whose quoit had fallen fairly over the -peg. Then he hurried up to the quoits, and, measuring their respective -distances from it with a huge bandana handkerchief, added, "One maiden -to you, Brooke! Game all! Peeled, by Jehoshaphat!" - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn flicked the dust off his waistcoat with magnificent -indifference. The Admiral produced a boatswain's whistle, and in answer -to a blast, his man, Jim, appeared at an upstair window. "Ay, ay, -Admiral!" - -"The usual. Here, under the elm. And look lively." - -"Ay, ay, sir!" - -Jim disappeared like a Jack-in-the-box. "We must play it off," said Sir -Peter. - -But Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn protested. "Another time, Sir Peter. It is very -warm, and my eye is out." - -"So 's mine," cried the Admiral, with a guffaw; "but I see straight, -what?" - -It was a matter of principle with Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn never to take the -slightest notice of the Admiral's jokes. Sir Peter might be the -autocrat of the Walk, although Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn had his own views even -on that point; but he himself was the acknowledged wit and man of -fashion, and from that position nothing should shake him. He had spied -Miss Ruth Pennymint working in her open bow-window, and Mrs. Poskett -busy with her flowers. Assuming his grandest manner, he said warningly: -"Should we not resume our habiliments? The fair are observing us." - -"Gobblessmysoul!" cried Sir Peter, shocked at being discovered in -undress. They hastily helped each other into their coats, which were -lying on the bench under the elm. Meanwhile, Jim had brought out a tray -with two pewters, two long clay pipes, a jar of tobacco and a lighted -candle, and had placed it on the bench. From the open upstair window of -the Pennymint's house came the strains of a violin: one passage, played -over and over again, with varying degrees of success. - -"Wish Mr. Pringle would stop his infernal scraping," growled the -Admiral. - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn shrugged his shoulders with condescending pity. "Poor -fellow! What a way of earning his living!" - -Sir Peter turned to the quarter from which the music came, and, making a -speaking-trumpet of his hands, roared, "Mr. Pringle! Mr. Pringle, -ahoy!" - -A hideous wrong note, as if the player had been scared out of his wits, -was the answer, and Basil Pringle appeared at the window. "I beg your -pardon, Admiral; I was engrossed." - -"Join us under the elm, what?" - -"With pleasure. I 'll just put away my Strad." - -As Basil retired Sir Peter turned to Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn. "His what?" - -"His Stradivarius," answered the latter, and as that obviously conveyed -no meaning, "his violin." - -"Oh! His fiddle! Why could n't he say so?--Jim!" - -"Ay, ay, sir!" - -"Another pewter." - -"Ay, ay, sir." Jim hobbled off into the Admiral's house and Sir Peter -and Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn stood, facing each other, each grasping his pewter -of foaming ale. - -"Well!" cried Sir Peter, "The King!" - -But Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn was not to be put off with so curt a toast. -Planting his feet firmly together, and throwing his chest out, he boomed -in a formal and stately manner, "His Most Gracious Majesty, King George -the Third, God bless him!" - -The Admiral eyed him curiously for a moment, and seemed about to speak, -but thought better of it; and for an appreciable time the faces of both -gentlemen were hidden. When they came to light again it was with a -great sigh of satisfaction, and they both settled down on the bench for -quiet enjoyment. - -"Now!" cried Sir Peter, "a pipe of tobacco with you, Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn?" - -"Delighted!" - -"St. Vincent. Prime stuff: and--in your ear--smuggled!" - -"No!--reely?" - -The two men leant over the candle and lighted their pipes with artistic -care. - -"Was you at a banquet again last night, Brooke?" asked the Admiral, -during this process. - -"Yes--yes," replied the other, with splendid indifference. "The -Guildhall. All the hote tonn." - -"Lucky dog," said Sir Peter, smacking his lips: "turtle, eh?" - -With the air of a man jaded by too much enjoyment Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn -condescended to enlarge. "As usual. Believe me, personally I should -much prefer seclusion and meditation in the company of poets and -philosophers, or dallying with Selina; but my friends are good enough to -insist. Only last night," with a side glance to watch the effect he was -producing, "Fox--my good friend, the Right Honourable Charles James -Fox--said, 'Brooke, my boy'--just like that--'Brooke, my boy, what would -our banquets be without you?'" - -Sir Peter was deeply impressed. He felt himself in touch with the great -world. "Gobblessmysoul!" he cried. "What's your average?" - -"I am sorry to say, I usually have to wrench myself away from my -precious Selina four nights a week." - -"Think o' that, now!--By the way, how is she?" - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn turned his lack-lustre eyes fondly towards his house. -"Selina? Cheerful, sir. Selina is faint but pursuing. We have now -been in the holy state of matrimony five years, and never a word of -complaint has fallen from the dear soul's lips." - -"Re-markable! And all that time Pomander Walk has seen scarcely -anything of her." - -"She has been much occupied--much occupied," put in Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn, -with a deprecatory flourish of his pipe. And, as if in corroboration of -his statement, the door of his house opened and a pretty maidservant -came out, carrying a year-old baby in her arms. "Chck! chck!" said Mr. -Brooke-Hoskyn. - -"Four olive-branches in five years!" cried Sir Peter, instinctively -sidling away from the baby. - -"Of the female sex," explained Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn: "all of the female -sex. This is Number Four. Chck! chck!" - -Mrs. Poskett, attracted by the baby, had hastily come out of her door -carrying her cat, Sempronius, in her arms, and was beckoning to the -maid. - -"And another coming!" roared the Admiral. "That's right, Brooke! Do -your duty, and damn the consequences!--But let's have a boy next time," -he went on, heedless of Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn's frantic signals, "let 's -have a boy, and make a sailor of him!--Gobblessmysoul!" For Mrs. -Poskett, having dropped the cat in the garden, had come up to the tree, -and was simpering with pretty modesty. - -[Illustration: "THAT'S RIGHT, BROOKE! DO YOUR DUTY, AND ---- THE -CONSEQUENCES!"] - -"Good afternoon, gentlemen," said she. "Oh--don't put your pipes away, -please. I have been well trained. Alderman Poskett smoked even -indoors. May I sit down?" She planted herself between the two men. -"Now, go on talking, just as though I was n't here." - -There was an awkward pause. Fortunately at this moment Jim created a -diversion by bringing the third pewter. To his amazement Mrs. Poskett -promptly seized it. "For me? How thoughtful of you!" she cried; and -while Sir Peter and Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn looked on too much astonished to -speak, she drained it as to the manner born. - -"Jim, another," grunted the Admiral. - -But Mrs. Poskett protested. "Oh, no, I could n't! Reely and posivitely -I could n't!" - -"We was expecting Mr. Pringle, ma'am," said the Admiral, stiffly. - -But the hint was entirely lost. "Ah, poor Mr. Pringle! Poor fellow! -An unhappy life, I fear; and him with one shoulder higher than the -other. Not that you notice it much when you look at him sideways. -There. I was rather alarmed when he arrived a month ago. Can't be too -careful, and me a lone woman. A musician, you know. One never knows -what their morals may be." - -"Hoho!" shouted Sir Peter, "he's quiet enough--except when he 's making -a noise!" - -Mrs. Poskett looked puzzled. She never could see a joke. - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn received it with his customary stony stare and at once -broke in. "He is some sort of cousin to the Misses Pennymint, I am -told?" - -"Yes," said Mrs. Poskett, with a sniff, "we are told. But who knows?--I -fear--" she sank her voice to a mysterious whisper--"I fear he -is--hush!--a lodger!" - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn was genuinely shocked. "You don't say so!" - -The Admiral began to grow uncomfortable. He hated tittle-tattle. -"Where's that cat of yours, ma'am?" he cried, with sudden suspicion. - -"Sempronius? The dear thing is so happy. He 's in the front garden, -listening to your dear thrush." - -"By Jehoshaphat!" cried the Admiral, half rising. - -"Oh, don't be alarmed! Sempronius adores him. He would n't touch a -hair of his head." - -"I warn you, ma'am," growled Sir Peter, reluctantly sinking back into -his seat, "if he does, I 'll wing him." From which you might gather the -speakers thought that thrushes had hair and cats wings. - -Now Basil Pringle, who had carefully laid his famous Strad in its case -and covered it with a magnificent silk handkerchief, joined the little -group under the elm. He was--apart from a very slight malformation of -one shoulder--a good-looking fellow. He had the musician's pensive -face, and a pair of very tender brown eyes, and his hands were the true -violinist's hands, with long and lissome fingers. Jim hobbled up at the -same time with a fresh pewter of ale. - -"Ah, Mr. Pringle," said the Admiral, hospitably, "here 's your pewter." - -But Basil waved it away. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Poskett--Gentlemen. -Thank you, Admiral, but I 'm sure you 'll excuse me. I have a long -night's work." - -Jim was ready for the occasion. He hobbled back quicker than he had -come, and drained the pewter at one draught under the very nose of the -Eyesore. - -"Fiddling at Vauxhall?" asked the Admiral. - -"As usual, Sir Peter. It is a gala night. Fireworks." - -Mrs. Poskett gave a little scream of delight. - -"Fireworks! Oh, ravishing!" - -"And Mrs. Poole is to sing; and Incledon." - -Up jumped the Admiral, slapping his thigh. "Incledon! Then, by gum, I -must be there! He was a sailor, y' know. I remember him in '85, on the -_Raisonable_. Lord Hervey, and Pigot and Hughes--they 'd have him up to -sing glees together!--Lord! Did ye ever hear him sing: - - 'A health to the Captain and officers too, - And all who belong to the jovial crew - On board of the Arethusa'?" - - -Now, the Admiral's voice was an admirable substitute for a fog-horn, but -as a vehicle for a ballad, it left much to be desired. Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn -writhed in melodramatic agony, and even Mrs. Poskett winced. Basil -tried to turn the enthusiast's thoughts into a gentler channel by -interpolating that to-night Incledon was to sing "Tom Bowling." At once -the Admiral's face took on an expression of the tenderest pathos. "Tom -Bowling?--Ah!" and he was off again, in a roar he intended for a mere -sentimental whisper - - "Here, a sheer hulk, lies poor Tom Bowling--" - - -This was too much for Jim's feelings, never more receptive to melodious -sorrow than when he had just absorbed a pint of ale, and he joined his -master in a sympathetic howl. - -Mrs. Poskett was overcome. "Oh, don't, Sir Peter," she cried. -"Alderman Poskett used to sing just like that. You could hear him a -mile off, but you could never tell what the tune was." The tender -recollection very nearly moved her to tears. - -Sir Peter stopped his song abruptly, with a penitent, "Gobblessmysoul! -I beg your pardon!" - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn felt he had been out of the conversation long enough. -He turned condescendingly to Basil. "Are we not to see the Misses -Pennymint to-day?" - -"They are very busy," replied the young violinist. - -Mrs. Poskett saw her opportunity. "I saw Miss Ruth sewing at a -ball-dress," she said; and then added with a meaning look at Mr. -Brooke-Hoskyn, "I wonder which of them is going to a ball?" - -Basil knew from experience what was coming. Mrs. Poskett continued, -"I've seen them making wedding-dresses, and even," with pretty -confusion, "even christening robes." - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn turned to her with an outraged expression: "I trust -you do not insinuate Pomander Walk harbours mantua-makers?" - -"It harbours a poor, hunchback fiddler," remarked Basil, very quietly. - -Sir Peter was getting red in the face. "The Misses Pennymint are -estimable ladies, and we are fortunate to have them among us. -Frequently when I have my periodical headaches--" - -"Hum," said Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn. - -"The result, sir, of voyages in unhealthy regions!--they have sent me -their home-made lavender water. When you had your last fit of asthma, -Mrs. Poskett, did n't they come and sit with you and give you -treacle-posset? And when Mrs. Brooke-Hoskyn presented you with your -fourth daughter, whose calves-foot jelly comforted her? We have nothing -to do with their means of livelihood; we are, I am happy to say, like -one family. What, Brooke?" - -Thus appealed to, Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn could only assent: but he did so -with a bad grace, and with a contemptuous glance at Basil. It was -really too bad of Sir Peter to suggest that he, Jerome Brooke-Hoskyn, -the Man of Fashion, the friend of the Right Honourable Charles James -Fox, had anything in common with this shabby musician. - -Mrs. Poskett bridled. "Do you include the French people at Number -Four?" she said. - -"They are not French, ma'am," retorted the Admiral, "and if they were, -they couldn't help it." - -Mrs. Poskett pointed with a giggle to the Eyesore, who was at that -moment lovingly fixing one more worm on his hook. "Do you include the -Eyesore?" - -"No, I do not!" roared the Admiral, in a rage. "He doesn't live here. -If England were under a proper government, he would be hanged for -trespassing. I 've tried to remove him, as you know, but--ha!--it -appears he has as much right here as any of us." - -"After all," said Basil, soothingly, "he never moves from one spot." - -"He never speaks to anybody," added Mrs. Poskett. - -"He'd better not, ma'am!" - -And Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn summed up with a laugh, "And I will do him the -justice to say, he never catches a fish!" - -Basil held up a warning hand, for the door of Number Four had just -opened. - - - - - *CHAPTER III* - - *CONCERNING NUMBER FOUR AND WHO LIVED IN IT* - - -[Illustration: Chapter III headpiece] - - -If I had had to give an account of Number Four even six months before -this story opens I should have been forced to admit it was a blot on the -Walk. The people who occupied it had left without paying their rent, -which was in itself a thing likely to cast discredit on the whole Walk. -But they did worse than that. Just before leaving, they managed, on one -plausible pretext or another, to wheedle sums of varying amounts out of -almost all their neighbours. Out of every one of them, in fact, except -the Reverend Jacob Sternroyd, D.D., who lived all alone in the sixth and -last house, and about whom I shall have more to say by-and-by. For -weeks the Walk remained hopeful of seeing its money back. Then came -doubt, and lastly, a period of very bad temper during which everybody -told everybody else they had said so all along, and if people had only -listened to them--! The owner of the house, a very fat brewer at -Brentford, put in a dreadful old Irishwoman as caretaker, and she would -sit on the front door-steps--the actual door-steps, in the open, where -the whole Walk could not avoid seeing her--and smoke a filthy short -black pipe: a sight terrible to behold. - -When remonstrated with, she retorted volubly in incomprehensible -Milesian. The Admiral himself had attacked her. - -"Now, my good woman, we can't have you smoking here." - -The old woman looked up at him with bleary eyes, and puffed in his face. - -"Did you hear what I said?" - -"What for should I not hear, darlint?" - -"You are not to smoke here!" - -"Who says so?" - -"I say so. If you don't go indoors, I 'll come and take the pipe out of -your mouth." - -"Will you so? You bring your ugly face inside that gate and see phwat -I'll do to ye!" - -"Do you know who I am?" - -"Sure an' I do. Yer father sowld stinkin' fish on Dublin quay when I -was ridin' in me carriage." - -"You foul-mouthed old woman--!" - -"Don't you 'ould woman' me, neither. You go to hell and watch ould Nick -stirrin' up yer grandmother!" - -[Illustration: THE REVEREND JACOB STERNROYD, D.D.] - -No gentleman could hope to carry on a conversation on these lines with -any success when all the windows of the Walk were open, and all the -inhabitants listening behind the curtains. The Admiral went straight to -the Brentford brewer, but the latter gave him no redress. He only asked -whether the Admiral had taken the old lady's advice. - -She was not only in herself an intolerable nuisance, but she prevented -desirable tenants from taking the house. Whenever any candidate -appeared she had an excruciating toothache; or she was doubled up with -rheumatism; or she shook the whole house with a ghastly churchyard -cough. The sympathy of the enquirer forced the information from her -that she had been sprightly and well, a picture of a woman, till she -came to Pomander Walk. Mind you, she was n't saying anything against -the house. It was a good enough house; though, to be sure, the rats -were something awful. Still, some people liked rats. In desperate -cases she even went so far as to hint that the house was haunted. She -was a foolish old woman, of course, but why did locked doors open of -themselves? Doors she had locked with her own hands. They did say that -the last tenant had hanged himself in the garret. And by that time the -enquirer had given her half-a-crown, and had left her in the undisputed -possession of her cutty-pipe on the doorstep. - -This fertility of imagination led to her undoing, however. For upon -hearing of it (from the Admiral, of course) the brewer sent his wife in -the guise of an enquiring tenant, and subsequently turned the old woman -out without any ceremony whatever. - -But the Walk did not recover its self-respect for some time. The house -was still undeniably empty. The windows got dirty; dead leaves covered -the door-step; the paint peeled off the woodwork and the railings; some -wretched boys threw a dead dog into the garden, where it lay hidden for -days; and, besides, the old woman's suggestion that the house was -haunted, left its poison behind. Presently Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn's nurse -saw a face gibbering behind the window, and had hysterics; and next Miss -Barbara Pennymint distinctly saw a hand beckoning to her from the same -window and fled, shrieking, to her sister. - -The Admiral pooh-poohed the whole thing and made elaborate arrangements -to spend a night in the house with Jim. Jim expressed his delight at -the prospect of such an adventure, and went about describing exactly -what he would do to the ghost if he saw it; but he had very bad luck -when the time came, with a sudden attack of sciatica which glued him to -his bed. The curious thing was that however often the Admiral postponed -the day for the undertaking, Jim's sciatica inevitably returned when the -day came. So time slipped away. The Admiral said he would explore the -mystery alone, but it slipped his memory. - -So the house remained tenantless, and when the Walk was painted -according to the Admiral's instructions, Number Four had to be passed -over, and consequently looked more woe-begone than ever. - -And the next thing the Walk knew was that it woke one morning to find -strange men bringing loads of furniture, amongst which was a harp, a -_forte-piano_, and a guitar-case, and that painters--not their own -painters, but an entirely unknown lot--were at work scraping off the old -paint. - -The Admiral rushed out--I am shocked to say, in his slippers and -shirt-sleeves--and was told that the house was let; let, without any -sort of warning or notice; let, so to speak, over the heads of the Walk; -over his own head. And the men could not tell him the name of the new -tenant. All they knew was that it was a lady. A lady with a name they -could n't pronounce. A foreign name. Foreign? _Foreign_?--Yes; French, -by the sound of it. - -This was beyond anything the Admiral or the Walk had ever had to cope -with. However, the Admiral mastered his indignation and contented -himself with giving the painters strict and minute instructions as to -the precise shade of green they were to use so as to make the house -uniform with the rest. - -He had to go to London next day to draw his pay. We know the inevitable -consequences of that excursion. The following morning he woke at midday -in a very bad humour. The first thing he saw when he threw open his -window, was Sempronius digging up his sweet peas; and the next was -Number Four painted a creamy white. - -I draw a veil. - -It was no use appealing to the brewer. He said he had nothing to do -with it; and when it was pointed out to him that the chaste uniformity -of the Walk was ruined, he impertinently suggested that the entire Walk -might get itself painted all over again, and painted sky-blue. - -So the Admiral took his time, determined to give this malapert and -intrusive foreign woman--she had now become a woman--a severe lesson. - -A few days later the house was taken possession of by an elderly female -servant--a stout and florid Bretonne, who went about, as Mrs. Poskett -said, looking a figure of fun in her national costume. - -Then began such a scrubbing and brushing and washing at Number Four as -the Walk had never seen. The bolder spirits--not the Admiral: he -reserved himself for the enemy-in-chief--Mrs. Poskett, and Mrs. -Brooke-Hoskyn's nurse, made tentative approaches, but were repulsed with -great slaughter: the Bretonne could not speak a word of English. When, -however, she proceeded to tie a rope from the elm--the sacred Elm---to -the Gazebo, to hang rugs across it and beat them to the tune of -"_Malbroucq s'en va-t-en guerre_" sung with immense gusto, Sir Peter was -forced to attack her himself. He had picked up a smattering of French -in the wars, and the Walk lined its window with eager faces to witness -his victory. - -Alas, the Bretonne now pretended not to understand the Admiral's French, -and replied to all his remonstrances, commands, and objurgations, with -"Bien, mon vieux!" while she banged more lustily on the rugs and covered -the now apoplectic Admiral with layers of dust. - -The Admiral promised his subjects--Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn, I am sorry to say, -indulged in a cynical smile--that the very first hour the Frenchwoman -came into residence--the very first hour, mind you--he would teach her -her place. - -The next day the house was ready for her, and the Walk could but shudder -as it looked at it: it had become so un-English. The steps were as -white as snow; the garden was trim and neat; the quiet cream paint was -offensively cheerful; the brass knocker was a poem; the windows gleamed, -positively gleamed, in the sun, and behind them were coquettish lace -curtains. The crowning offence was that every window-sill was loaded -with growing flowers. Mr. Pringle said the house standing in the midst -of its prim neighbours reminded him of a laughing young girl surrounded -by her maiden aunts; and Miss Ruth Pennymint told him he ought to know -better than to say such things in the presence of ladies. - -The Admiral himself as this story proceeds, shall tell you in his own -words of the startling effect produced by the arrival of the new -tenants. Suffice it to say that it was totally unexpected, and that the -Walk was forced to readjust its views in every particular. At the point -of time we have now reached, Madame Lachesnais and her daughter, -Marjolaine, were the most popular inhabitants of the Walk, and nobody -had anything but good to say of them. - -Wherefore, when, as recorded in the previous chapter, Mr. Pringle held -up a warning hand and said "Madame!" all turned expectantly. - -It was quite a little procession that now issued from Number Four. -First came Nanette, the servant, spick and span in her Bretonne dress, -with a cap of dazzling whiteness. On her arm was a great market-basket. -She was followed by Madame herself, a tall and graceful person no longer -in the first bloom of youth, but, in spite of the traces of sorrow on -her face, still beautiful. She was dressed in some quiet, grey -material, for she was still in half-mourning for her late husband; her -delicate throat and hands were set off by exquisite old lace. She moved -with a sort of floating grace, very charming to watch. There was -distinction and well-bred self-possession in every line. Behind her -followed her daughter, Marjolaine, a charming girl of nineteen. There -is no necessity for more particular description. A charming girl of -nineteen is the loveliest thing on earth, and more need not be said. - -The Admiral and Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn leaped to their feet as Madame -appeared. Both threw their chests out and assumed their finest company -manner, to such an extent, indeed, that Mrs. Poskett could not repress a -contemptuous sniff. - -Madame came graciously towards the group. "Ah! Good afternoon," she -said, in a pleasant voice, with only the slightest trace of a French -accent. "I am going marketing in Chiswick with Nanette. Nanette cannot -speak a word of English, you know." Then she turned to her daughter. -"Marjolaine, you may take your book under the tree, if our friends will -have you." Marjolaine was talking to Mr. Basil Pringle. "It is nearly -time for my singing-lesson, Maman." - -"Ah, yes. Mr. Basil, I fear you find her very backward." - -Basil could only murmur, "O no, Madame, I assure you--" - -It was noticeable that everyone who spoke to Madame did so with a sense -of subdued reverence. - -Madame turned to Marjolaine. "Ask Miss Barbara to chaperone you, as I -have to go out." - -"Bien, Maman." - -"You are to speak English, dear." - -"Bien, Maman--O! I mean yes, mother!" - -Sir Peter and Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn both sidled up to Madame, while Mrs. -Poskett stood utterly neglected and looked on with the air of an injured -saint. - -"May I not offer you my escort?" said both gentlemen in one breath. - -"O no!" laughed Madame. "I have Nanette. Nothing can happen to me while -I have Nanette." - -"As if anything ever could happen in Chiswick!" said Mrs. Poskett, a -little spitefully. - -Madame signalled to Nanette to lead the way, and followed her past the -Eyesore and out of the Walk, convoyed by the gallant Admiral as far as -the corner, where he stood looking after her an appreciable time. - -Meanwhile Marjolaine had run up to the railings of Number Three where -Miss Ruth Pennymint was sewing in the window. - -"Miss Ruth," she cried, "is Barbara busy?" - -Miss Ruth looked up from her work with a smile as she saw the eager -young face. "She's closeted with Doctor Johnson." - -"Will you ask her to come out when she's done?" and Marjolaine came back -to the tree. Basil rose from his seat. "Pray don't move," said the -young girl, prettily, "Barbara will be here in a moment. She is with -Doctor Johnson." - -Basil's face was very grave. It looked almost like the face of a man -who finds himself in the presence of a great tragedy; or of one who -knows he is fighting an insuperable obstacle. "Ah, yes," he sighed, -"Doctor Johnson. Surely that is very pathetic." And he turned away and -leant disconsolately against the railings, with his eyes fixed on the -door of Number Three. - -"Come and sit down, Missie, come and sit down," cried the Admiral, -heartily. - -Marjolaine accepted his invitation. "I used to be so afraid of you, Sir -Peter!" - -"Gobblessmysoul! Why?" - -"You were so angry with us for painting our house white!" - -"Hum," coughed the Admiral, looking guiltily at Mrs. Poskett and Mr. -Brooke-Hoskyn. "Ah--hum!--the others were green, ye see. But it's an -admirable contrast." - -Mrs. Poskett sniffed. She had not forgotten the Admiral's ignominious -surrender. - -Now Miss Ruth and Miss Barbara came out of their house, hand in hand, as -usual. Miss Ruth was, as we are aware, considerably older than her -sister, and still treated her like a pet child. Barbara disengaged -herself as soon as she caught sight of Marjolaine, rushed at her with -bird-like hops, and pecked a little kiss off each cheek as a bird pecks -at a cherry. - -"Oh, Marjolaine, dearest!" she cried with enthusiasm, "Doctor Johnson -has been most extraordinarily eloquent!" The two girls walked away -together with their arms gracefully entwined around each other's waists. -Ruth joined the others under the tree. - -"Good afternoon," she said, "Dear Barbara!--She has just had her hour -with the parrot. Her memories of Lieutenant Charles are at their -liveliest." - -Mr. Basil, who had never taken his eyes off Barbara, heaved a -soul-rending sigh, and came up to Miss Ruth. - -"Very unwholesome, _I_ think," said Mrs. Poskett, sharply. Miss Ruth -explained to Basil: "Lieutenant Charles was in His Majesty's Navy, you -know, and dear Barbara was affianced to him." - -"So I have heard," answered Basil, coldly. As a matter of fact, he had -heard it on an average twice every day. Ruth went on relentlessly, -"Unhappily he was abruptly removed from this earthly sphere." - -Bare politeness forced Basil to show some interest. After all, Ruth was -Barbara's sister. "I presume he fell in battle?" - -"Say rather in single combat." - -The Admiral with difficulty suppressed a guffaw. He whispered to Basil -with a hoarse chuckle, "As a matter of fact he was knocked on the head -outside a gin-shop." - -"But," the unconscious Ruth went on, "he had bestowed a token of his -affection on dear Barbara, in the shape of the remarkable bird you may -have seen." - -Basil had seen him often and had heard him constantly. For whenever the -bird was left alone, he filled the air incessantly with ear-piercing -shrieks. - -"Doctor Johnson," continued Ruth, "named after the great Lexicographer -in consideration of his astonishing fluency of speech. Doctor Johnson -is Barbara's only consolation." - -Basil suppressed a groan. The obstacle! The obstacle! - -"Yes, dear," said Barbara, who had come up with Marjolaine. She spoke -with pretty melancholy, but with a side-glance at Basil. "Yes, dear, he -speaks with Charles's voice, and says the very things Charles used to -say." - -Basil moved away. This was almost more than he could bear. - -"How lovely!" cried Marjolaine. "I wish I could hear him!" - -"Ah, no!" Barbara's chubby face fell into the nearest approach to -solemnity she could manage. "Not even you may share that melancholy -joy. The things he says are too sacred." - -Sir Peter had sidled up to Basil. "I tell you, sir, that bird's -language would silence Billingsgate. The atmosphere of that room must be -solid, sir--solid." Basil stared at him with amazed reproof, and the -Admiral turned to Marjolaine. "Well, Missie, we all hope you 've grown -to like the Walk?" - -"I love it! And so does Maman." - -The Admiral grew enthusiastic. He turned towards the houses glowing in -the late sun. "It is a sheltered haven. Look at it! A haven of -content! What says the poet? 'The world forgetting, by the world -forgot.'" - -All had turned with him. They were just an ordinary, every-day set of -people. There was not a poet among them, if we except Basil, and yet -the Walk, basking in the evening sun, touched some chord in each heart. -The Admiral saw his flag drooping in the still air, and remembered his -fighting days; Mrs. Poskett thought of Sempronius, and her tea-kettle -simmering on the hob; Ruth was grateful for the shelter her little house -had given her in her misfortune; Barbara thought of Doctor Johnson -and--must I say it?--of Basil; Basil thought of Barbara; Mr. -Brooke-Hoskyn thought of patient, unattractive Selina, and the four baby -girls; Marjolaine, in her fresh girlhood, could only think of how pretty -the flowers looked in the window. - -Barbara exclaimed, "When the sunlight falls on it so, how lovely it is!" - -Basil looked into her blue eyes, and murmured, "It reminds me of the -music I am at work on." - -"What is that?" cried Marjolaine. "It sounds beautiful--through the -wall." - -The musician's enthusiasm was kindled; he grew eloquent. "It is by a -new German composer: a man called Beethoven. My old violin-master, -Kreutzer, sent it me.--Ah! These new Germans! They are so complicated; -so difficult. I am old-fashioned, you know. I had the honour of -playing under Mr. Haydn at the Salomon concerts. Yes! and in the very -first performance of his immortal Oratorio, 'The Creation,' at -Worcester. So perhaps I am prejudiced. Yet this new music is very -wonderful; very heart-searching." He stopped abruptly, realising he was -talking to deaf ears. Sir Peter came to his rescue. - -"I don't know anything about your new-fangled fiddle-faddles; but, by -Jehoshaphat, Pringle, play me a hornpipe, and I 'll dance till your arms -drop off!" - -He hummed the tune, and with amazing agility sketched a few steps, while -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn put up his quizzing glass and eyed him with a superior -smile. "Oh!" laughed Marjolaine, clapping her hands, "you must teach -me!" - -"That I will, Missie! and the sooner the better." - -Mrs. Poskett was furious. "No fool like an old fool," she whispered in -Ruth's ear. - -Barbara, who had been up to Mrs. Poskett's gate to stroke Sempronius, -came running down with a little cry of horror. She pointed to the -frouzy figure of the Eyesore. "Look! The Eyesore 's going to smoke!" - -And, sure enough, after removing an indescribable handkerchief, a greasy -newspaper, obviously containing his lunch, half an apple, a large piece -of cheese, a huge pocket-knife, and a lump of coal he had picked up in -the road, the Eyesore had dragged out a horrible little clay pipe and a -dreadful little paper packet of tobacco. The Walk stood petrified. -When the Eyesore smoked, everybody had to go indoors and shut their -windows. - -"His poisonous tobacco!" cried Ruth. "Can you not speak to him, -Admiral?" - -"I can, Madam, but he'll answer back." - -"And then," said Mrs. Poskett somewhat tartly, "of course you are -helpless." - -"Not at all, ma'am. I hope I can swear with any man; but--the ladies!" - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn had been observing the Eyesore. "Thank heaven," he -whispered, "his pipe won't draw." - -For the Eyesore was trying to blow through the stem, was knocking his -pipe on the palm of his hand, was endeavouring to run a straw through -it: all without success. Finally, in an access of rage, he tossed it -aside and sullenly resumed his fishing. A sigh of relief went up from -the whole Walk. They were saved. - -Now a quaint figure came slowly round the corner. "Ah!" cried Basil, -"here is our good Doctor Sternroyd!" - -"With his books, as usual," added Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn. "What a brain!" - -"Old dryasdust!" laughed Sir Peter. But pointing to the Doctor, Basil -motioned them all to silence. - -And, to be sure, the Doctor was worth looking at. He was dressed in the -fashion of fifty years before. Indeed, I should doubt whether in all -those fifty years he had had a new suit of clothes. On his head was a -venerable hat of indefinite shape; under his left arm a great bundle of -old books; under his right a venerable umbrella of generous proportions, -which had once been green. Fortunately his coat had originally been -snuff-coloured, so that the spilled snuff made no difference to it. His -small-clothes were shabby; his lean shanks were encased in grey worsted -stockings, and the great silver buckles on his shoes were tarnished. - -At the present moment, however, it was not so much his appearance as his -actions that arrested the Walk's attention. He had come in dreamily as -usual with his lack-lustre eyes seeing nothing in spite of their great -silver-rimmed spectacles. Suddenly his attention was attracted by -something lying at his feet. He stopped, picked it up laboriously, and -examined it minutely, pushing his spectacles over his forehead for the -purpose. - -"Bless the man!" cried Mrs. Poskett. "He 's picked up the Eyesore's -filthy pipe!" - -And now he was exhibiting all the symptoms of frantic joy. Utterly -unconscious of the people watching him, he indulged in delighted -chuckles, and his withered old legs quite independently of their -master's volition executed a sort of grotesque dance. He looked very -much like a crane that had caught a fish. - -"But why the step-dance?" exclaimed Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn, with a laugh. - -Sir Peter hailed him. "Doctor Sternroyd, ahoy!" - -The Doctor looked from one to the other in genuine amazement. It was -evident his mind had been wandering in some remote world. - -"Dear me! Tut, tut!" he stammered. "I had not observed you!" Then, -with a radiant face, "Ah, my friends, congratulate me!" - -All gathered round him, and the Admiral asked, "What about, Doctor?" - -"This," said the reverend gentleman, holding up the trophy. "This. A -beautiful specimen of an early Elizabethan tobacco-pipe!" - -It was with the greatest difficulty the Admiral restrained a great burst -of laughter from the onlookers. Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn got as far as "That, -sir? Why, that's--" when a tremendous dig from the Admiral's elbow -deprived him of his wind, and sent him backward clucking like an -infuriated turkey-cock. - -"I do not wonder at your surprise," continued the antiquary. "Yes, -Ladies and Gentlemen, they are sometimes found in the alluvial deposit -of the Thames; but even my friend, the Archbishop of Canterbury, whose -specialty they are, does not possess so perfect a specimen in his entire -collection." - -Again the Admiral was obliged to exercise all his authority in order to -suppress unseemly mirth or explanations. Doctor Sternroyd went on with -the tone of regret assumed by a man of learning in the presence of an -ignorant and unappreciative audience. "Ah, you don't understand the -value of these things. Out of this fragment it is possible to -reconstruct an entire epoch. I see Sir Walter Raleigh's fleet bringing -home the fragrant weed from the distant plantations; I see him enjoying -its vapours in his pleasaunce at Sherborne; I see Drake solacing himself -with it on board the Golden Hind. Yes, yes, I shall read a paper on -it.--Ah! if only my dear wife, my beloved Araminta, were here now!" -With mingled melancholy and triumph he drifted across the lawn and into -his house--the last house of the crescent. - -"Amazing!" said Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn; "but why would n't you let me tell -him, Sir Peter?" - -There was a wistful look on Sir Peter's face as he replied. "Ah, -Brooke! We all live on our illusions. The more we believe, the happier -we are!" - -This was beyond Brooke; but Miss Ruth understood and sighed her assent. - - - - - *CHAPTER IV* - - *CONCERNING A MYSTERIOUS LADY, AND AN ELDERLY BEAU* - - -[Illustration: Chapter IV headpiece] - - -This was evidently to be a memorable afternoon in the annals of Pomander -Walk; for no sooner had it recovered from its mirth over the Doctor's -antiquarian discovery than Jim, who had been training the sweet peas at -the corner of the Admiral's house, shouted hoarsely: - -"Admiral! Pirate in the offing!" - -Such a startling announcement was well calculated to silence all -laughter; and the imposing figure who now appeared round the corner -certainly did nothing to encourage mirth: a very tall, very gaunt, very -bony lady, severely but richly dressed; her face hidden in the remote -recesses of a more than usually capacious poke bonnet. She was followed -by an enormous footman carrying a gold-headed cane in one hand, while a -fat pug reposed on his other arm. The Walk was paralysed and could only -stare and gasp. Who was she? Where did she come from? Whom did she -want? - -She stopped and examined the Eyesore through her uplifted _face-a-main_, -as if he had been some strange, unpleasant animal. "Fellow," she said, -"is this Pomander Lane?" A shudder ran through the Walk. Pomander -_Lane_, indeed!--The only answer the lady got from the Eyesore was that -at that precise moment he found it agreeable to scratch his back. With -an exclamation of disgust she turned from him only to find herself face -to face with Jim. Now Jim was not pretty to look at. - -"Fellow, is this Pomander Lane?" she repeated. - -"You 've a-lost yer bearin's, mum," replied the old tar huskily and not -too cordially. - -"What savages!" muttered the Lady as she turned to Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn. -"You! Is this Pomander Lane?" - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn had laid himself out to fascinate her with his -courtliest manner, but the "You!" with which she addressed him aroused -the turkey-cock within him, and it was an icy and raging Brooke-Hoskyn -who replied, "This, ma'am, is Pomander _Walk_!" - -"Same thing," said the Lady contemptuously. - -"Excuse me, ma'am--!" exclaimed Sir Peter hotly. - -But she waved him aside and proceeded in a tone intended to be -ingratiating, and therefore more offensive than any tone she could have -chosen, "My good people"--imagine the Walk's feelings!--"I have -undertaken to look after the morals of this part of your parish. I have -made it my duty to give advice and distribute alms." - -Morals--parish--advice--alms! Had the Walk ever heard such words -uttered within its genteel precincts? The Lady turned to Ruth, who -happened to be at her side. "Where are your children?" - -Ruth stood aghast. She could only breathe indignantly, "I am a -spinster." - -"Are there no children?" said the Lady reproachfully. - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn's nurse happened to pass at the moment on her way into -the house. The Lady stopped her. "Ah, yes." Mrs. Poskett and the -Admiral had sunk in helpless surprise on the bench under the elm. The -Lady turned to them. "The father and mother, I suppose?" - -Mrs. Poskett and the Admiral started apart, as if they had been shocked -by a galvanic battery. Mrs. Poskett uttered an indignant scream; the -Admiral could only gasp, "Gobblessmysoul!" - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn, purple in the face, came clucking down. "This, -ma'am, is my youngest. The youngest of four--at present." - -The Lady looked him up and down. "I will give your wife instructions -about their management--" - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn danced with rage. "You'll--haha!--She'll teach -Selina!--Hoho!--Oh, that's good!" - -But the Lady had caught sight of Marjolaine, who with Barbara was -standing by the Gazebo. Both young ladies, I regret to say, were -laughing immoderately. Brushing the Admiral aside, she sailed -imposingly across to them and addressed Marjolaine, who was by this time -looking demure, and overdoing it. - -"What do I see?" said the Lady severely, examining Marjolaine through -her glasses. "Curls? At your age, curls? Fie!" Then shaking a lank -finger at her, "Mind! your hair must be quite straight when next I -come." - -To the delight of the Walk Marjolaine made a pretty and submissive -curtsey, and answered, "Yes, ma'am; but don't come again in a hurry. -Give me lots and lots of time!" - -Meanwhile Mrs. Poskett and Ruth had been urging the Admiral on. Now he -approached the Lady in his quarter-deck manner, and said, - -"Madam--hum--we give alms, and we do not take advice. You 're on the -wrong tack. You 're out of your reckoning." Then, pointing grandly to -the only entrance to the Walk, "That is your course for Pomander Lane." - -"Yes," said Brooke-Hoskyn, with the same action, "That!" - -"Yes," said all the ladies, pointing melodramatically to the corner, -"That!" - -"Jim," ordered the Admiral, "pilot the lady out." - -"Ay, ay, sir." - -The Lady eyed them all in turn through her _face-a-main_. "Very well," -she said, with magnificent scorn. "I was told I should have difficulty -here. I was told you only go to church twice on Sundays. I did not -expect to find you so bad as you are. I shall come again. I am not so -easily beaten. I shall certainly come again!" - -In grim silence she gathered her skirts about her and departed as she -had come, followed by the footman and the fat pug. - -When she had turned the corner the Walk once more indulged in a burst of -laughter. - -"What a figure of fun!" cried Ruth. - -"I gave here her sailing orders--what?" chuckled the Admiral. - -And Mrs. Poskett gazed into his face with admiration. - -"What a wonderful man you are, Sir Peter!" - -When they had all recovered, Basil came to Marjolaine and eagerly -reminded her it was high time for her singing-lesson. - -Marjolaine appealed to Barbara: "Maman told me to ask you to come with -me." - -Barbara gave a little hop of delight, but Ruth exclaimed, "Shall I take -your place, dear?" - -"No, no," cried Barbara, almost as if she were in a fright, "I love to -hear her." Barbara, Marjolaine, and Basil moved slowly towards Number -Three, while Ruth approached Mrs. Poskett. "Will you come in and take a -dish of tea?" - -"No," replied Mrs. Poskett, "no, thank you," and then, with a giggle, -"I'm going--you'll never guess!--I 'm going to comb my wig." - -Seeing the ladies all strolling towards their houses the Admiral once -more challenged Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn to play off the rubber at quoits. But -he declined. "I think not, Sir Peter. Selina will be expecting me." - -Mrs. Poskett stopped. "I wonder you can bear to leave her so much -alone." - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn felt the implied reproach. With a countenance full of -woe, he replied, "It tears my heart-strings, ma'am; but she will have it -so. 'Brooke,' she says--or 'Jerome,' as the case may be--'your place is -in the fashionable world, among the hote tonn.' So I sacrifice my -inclination to her pleasure." - -"How unselfish of you!" said Ruth. - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn continued more cheerfully. "She has many innocent -pastimes. At the present moment the dear soul is joyously darning my -socks." - -By this time Mrs. Poskett and the other ladies were on their respective -door-steps. Mrs. Poskett gave a startled cry and called the Admiral's -attention to the corner of the Walk, where four men in livery had just -deposited a sedan chair. "Company, Sir Peter!" she cried. - -Sir Peter turned abruptly and examined the person who was with -difficulty emerging from the sedan. "Eh?-- Gobblessmysoul! Is it -possible?-- My old friend, Lord Otford!" He bustled up to the -newcomer, shouting "Otford! Otford!" - -Now the name had had a magical effect on Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn. At the -sound of it the colour had all vanished from his fat cheeks, the -strength seemed to have gone out of his legs, and his knees were -knocking together. "Lord Otford, by all that's unlucky!" he exclaimed. - -Mrs. Poskett had swept back to the elm. She happened to have a very -becoming dress on, and she was determined the noble lord should see it. -She caught sight of Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn's face. "What's the matter?" - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn pulled himself together with a mighty effort. -"Nothing, ma'am." Then with great dignity, "He and I differ in -politics. There might be bloodshed." And while Mrs. Poskett exclaimed -"Well, I never!" he had dashed into his house as a rabbit dashes into -its burrow. - -Mrs. Poskett sailed up to her house trying to catch his lordship's eye. -I am afraid all the ladies were anxious to be noticed, for all lingered -at their doors. A real, live lord was not an ordinary sight in Pomander -Walk. And this one happened to be a handsome one; well set up, dressed -in the height of fashion, yet quietly, as a gentleman should dress; and -carrying his forty-five years as though they had been no more than -thirty. - -"You're looking well, Peter!" he exclaimed, still shaking the Admiral by -the hand. - -"My dear Jack! My dear old Jack!" cried the latter. "Here! come into -the house!" - -"No, no," laughed his friend, with a suspicious glance at the diminutive -window. "Stuffy. No. Looks pleasant under the elm." - -"Why, come along, then!" shouted the Admiral, dragging him towards the -tree. - -Lord Otford took off his hat to Mrs. Poskett with an elaborate bow. "I -say, Peter, in clover, you rascal!" - -"Dam fine woman--what?" - -Here Lord Otford caught sight of Marjolaine just disappearing in the -doorway of Number Three. He stopped short. "Ay, and pretty gel on -door-step." Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, "By Jove!" - -"Dainty little thing, eh?" said the Admiral with a chuckle. - -"Yes," replied the nobleman, pensively. "Reminds me vaguely--" but he -changed the subject. "Well! You're hale and hearty!" - -"Nothing amiss with you, neither," laughed Sir Peter, sitting on the -bench and drawing his friend down beside him. "I am glad to see you! -Thought you was in Russia." - -"Got home a month ago, Peter. Not married yet?" - -"Peter Antrobus married? That's a good 'un." Up went the Admiral's -finger to his nose. "No, my Lord. All women, yes. One woman, no!" - -"Sure nobody can hear us?" - -Sir Peter looked round cautiously. Save for the Eyesore, absorbed in -his placid effort to catch fish, there was no sign of life in the Walk. -Nobody was visible at the windows. From Number Three came the sound of -a fresh young voice singing scales and arpeggios. - -"Quite safe, Jack," said he. - -"Peter, I want your help." - -"Woman?" asked Sir Peter. - -"Yes. Not my woman, though, this time. It's about my boy--Jack." - -"Aha! Got into a mess? Chip of the old block--what?" - -"No, no. Marriage." - -"Gobblessmysoul! How old is he?" - -"Twenty-five." - -"Good Lord!" - -"I want to see Jack settled. There 's the succession to think of." - -"You talk as though you was a king." - -"Well, so I am, in a small way. Think of the estate! I want Jack to -take the reins." - -"How can he, when he 's on the sea?" - -"He's to retire as soon as he gets his Captaincy." - -The Admiral jumped up. "Retire! Now! With Boney ready to gobble us -up!" - -Otford drew him down again. "Don't you see? With all this battle and -bloodshed, now's the time for Jack to give me a grandson. He 's my only -child, remember. Why, hang it, man, if he was to die without issue, the -title and the estates would go to that infernal whig scoundrel, James -Sayle." - -"That won't do," Sir Peter assented, wisely nodding his head. - -"Of course it won't. Now, there's old Wendover's gel--Caroline Thring." - -[Illustration: CAROLINE THRING] - -The Admiral made a wry face. "Caroline Thring? I've heard of her. -Never seen her: but heard of her. Eccentric party, ain't she? And did -n't I hear there was an affair with Young Beauchamp?" - -"That's fallen through. She's an estimable person." - -"Ugh," said the Admiral. - -"People call her eccentric," Lord Otford continued, hotly, "because she -goes about doing good--distributing alms--" - -The Admiral was about to exclaim, but Otford gave him no time. "You 're -prejudiced, you old reprobate. Wendover 's willing, and there's nothing -in the way. The estates join. She's sole heiress. Gad, sir, that -alliance would make Jack the biggest man in the Three Kingdoms." - -"Is Jack fond of her?" - -"Does n't object to her. Hesitates. Says he don't want to marry at -all. Says he has n't had his fling." - -"Well--what's it all got to do with me?" - -"Ever since Jack's been home on leave, he's done nothing but talk about -you--" - -"Good lad!" cried Sir Peter, slapping his thigh. "I loved him when he -was a middy on board the _Termagant_." - -"And he loves you. Coming to look you up. To-day, very likely. When he -comes, refer to Caroline--carelessly. Say what a fine gel she is. -Don't say a word about the estate. These young whipper-snappers have -such high-and-mighty ideas about marrying for money. Refer to young -Beauchamp. Say in your time young fellers did n't let other young -fellers cut 'em out. See?" - -"You 're a wily old fox, Jack. But, hark'ee! Sure he's not in love with -anybody else?" - -"He says he is n't. Oh, there may be a Spanish Senorita!--Gad! I -should almost be ashamed of him if there wasn't!--But there's no--no--" - -"No Lucy Pryor?" said the Admiral carelessly. - -The name seemed to fall on Lord Otford like a blow. He sat quite still -a moment, looking straight before him into who knows what memories. At -last he said very sadly, "No. No Lucy Pryor." - -The Admiral realised his own tactlessness. He took Lord Otford's hand. -"I beg your pardon, Jack. I 'm sorry." - -"It still hurts, Peter," said his Lordship with a wistful smile. "Like -an old bullet.--Well! You 'll do what you can, eh?--I don't want you to -overdo it. Just edge him in the right direction." - -"Keep his eye in the wind, what?" - -"That's it.--Well? Any new-comers in the Walk?" - -"Yes," chuckled the Admiral, "two oil lamps. One in front of my house, -and one in front of Sternroyd's. They wanted to give us their -new-fangled, stinking gas, but the whole Walk mutinied." - -"Very fine, but--" - -"They 're only used when there's no moon." - -"But I meant new people!" - -"Oh! Ah! Yes!--" Then with a sort of smack of the lips indicative of -the highest appreciation, "A French widow and her daughter." - -At once Lord Otford showed a lively interest. "French, eh?--What? the -little gel I saw going in?" - -"Yes," answered the Admiral, rising and leading his friend towards the -Gazebo where his whisper would no longer make the windows of the Walk -rattle. "Yes. They're not really French, y' know. Mother's the widow -of a Frenchman. Madame Lachesnais." - -This sounded very dull. His Lordship stifled a yawn, but he noticed the -Admiral's kindling eye, and felt constrained to continue the subject. - -"Pleasant?" - -"De-lightful!" answered Sir Peter, kissing the tips of his fingers at an -imaginary ideal. "The Walk was shy of 'em at first. So was I. Thought -they was foreigners. Foreigners are all very well for you and me, Jack. -We 're men o' the world. But think of Mrs. Poskett! Think of the -Misses Pennymint! Think of Mr. and Mrs. Brooke-Hoskyn!" - -Lord Otford started slightly at the last name. - -"Eh? Mr. and Mrs. what?" - -"Brooke-Hoskyn. Sh!" pointing to the house with his thumb. "Very -distinguished man. Moves in the highest circles. Hote tonn, Jack. Dines -in town regularly four times a week." - -"Man of family?" asked Lord Otford. - -"Family?" roared the Admiral. "Well, I should say so. Four little gels -in five years, and more to come! Never met him?" - -"I seem to remember a man called Hoskyn," said his friend nonchalantly. - -The Admiral shook his head in dismissal of the undistinguished Hoskyn. -"No, no. This is Brooke-Hoskyn; Brooke--h'm--Hoskyn; with a hyphen." - -Lord Otford had had enough of Brooke-Hoskyn. "Go on about the French -widow." - -"Well, one morning their shay was signalled from the back of the Misses -Pennymint. We'd all been watching for their coming, y' know, because of -their house having been painted white--but that's another yarn -altogether. Shays can't get beyond the corner of Pomander Lane; so I -had time to put on my uniform, and my medals, and my cocked hat--" - -"Meant to show 'em you was Admiral on your own quarter-deck, eh?" - -"That's it. And then--" the Admiral glowed with enthusiasm--"well, then -Madame came round the corner; and then Mademerzell. They did n't walk, -Jack, they floated. And what did I do? I just sneaked back into -harbour, and struck my colours. Yes!-- She was the most gracious -creature I 'd ever seen. And the gel--! Well, you saw her." He paused -for a moment, and then added in a curiously subdued voice: "They brought -something new into the Walk." - -Lord Otford looked at him enquiringly. "What do you mean?" - -It was some little time before Sir Peter answered. He sat gazing into -vacancy a moment, like a man who is remembering happier things, calling -up a mental picture of a beautiful landscape--or perhaps of a beautiful -face--suddenly smitten by the recollection of his own youth. At last, -with something like a sigh he went on. - -"We're rather an elderly lot, y'know. Beyond our springtime, Jack, and -that's the truth. When we sit and think, we think of the past, and try -not to think of the future. And, suddenly, here was this Grace and -Beauty and Youth in the midst of us. It gave the Walk a shock, I can -tell ye. All the women lay-to in repairing-dock for days. Mrs. Poskett -never showed her nose till she 'd got a new wig from town; Pringle tells -me he caught poor little Barbara Pennymint looking at herself in the -glass and crying; and Brooke-Hoskyn says his wife, who had watched 'em -come from her window, not being able to get downstairs, poor soul, -sobbed her heart out and made him swear he loved her." - -"By Jove!" cried Lord Otford, "you make me want to see these paragons!" - -"Well, Madame 's only gone shopping. She 'll be back directly. Wait, -and I 'll present you." - -"No," said his friend, signalling to the sedan-bearers. "Not to-day. -I'm on my way to old Wendover, at Brentford." - -"Ah! That marriage! Well, I hope I shall see Jack soon." - -"You'll help me, won't you?" - -"I will. I will. God bless you." - -Sir Peter escorted his friend to the sedan; saw him safely into it and -walked at its side until it turned the corner. As he came back he found -himself face to face with Marjolaine, who had finished her lesson and -was coming out of Number Three with a book in her hand. - -"There, now, Missie," he cried, "if you'd come a moment earlier, I'd -have presented you to a very great man!" - -"Oh?" - -At his door the Admiral put his hand up to his mouth and whispered -confidentially--a confidential whisper which could have been heard the -other side of the river--"I say!--We 'll have a go at that horn-pipe -by-and-by--what?" And chuckling he went into his house. - -Marjolaine came slowly to the elm, seated herself, and proceeded to read -the "Adventures of Telemachus." - - - - - *CHAPTER V* - - *CONCERNING WHAT YOU HAVE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR* - - -[Illustration: Chapter V headpiece] - - -The sun shone; the thrush sang; the leaves of the elm rustled; the great -river flowed silently; the breeze came and kissed Marjolaine and -whispered "Wake up! Wake up! Something is going to happen!" But she -could not hear. She only thought Telemachus was even duller than usual, -and as she read of Mentor she thought of the Reverend Doctor Sternroyd. -Presently--whether it was the breeze that blew her thoughts away, or the -singing of the thrush, I cannot say--she lost the thread of the story; -stopped thinking at all; and just sat with her elbow on her knee and her -chin in her hand, looking with her great brown eyes into--what? - -The Eyesore saw her. I cannot dip into the Eyesore's mind. I cannot -tell you what influenced him. I only know he grew restless. He looked -at her over his shoulder once or twice as she sat there, "In maiden -meditation, fancy free," and suddenly he got up, laid his rod carefully -across the chains, and stole out on tip-toe. Was it a glimmering sense -that he was no company for this pretty maid lost in thought? Was it a -dim realisation that his ungainly figure had no business to intrude on -her meditations? Whatever the cause, he stole out on tip-toe and was -lost to sight. Perhaps he was only thirsty. - -Marjolaine did not notice his going. Nor did she see Jack come. Jack -came apparently out of the river. As a matter of fact he tied his boat -to a ring at the foot of Pomander Stairs and leaped on shore. A -delightful young fellow, the sort of young man you take to, the moment -you set eyes on him. Obviously a sailor. His lieutenant's undress -jacket was over his arm. A wiry figure, lissome as a willow and as -tough as steel; a face tanned by many suns; true sailor's eyes looking -frankly and fearlessly at the world. - -He was evidently in search of something or somebody. He came down the -Walk examining all the houses curiously; and suddenly he found himself -face to face with Marjolaine. - -His shadow fell across her book. She looked up; and their eyes met. - -Marjolaine was much too well-bred to show any surprise, but, as a matter -of fact, she was very much surprised indeed. Here was a new and -terrible situation. A total stranger standing looking at her; her -mother and Nanette gone to Chiswick; the Admiral shut in his house; and -not another soul in sight. Even the Eyesore would have been a sort of -moral support, but even the Eyesore had deserted her. However: Courage! -If she went on with her book the stranger would go. So she went on with -her book, grimly. - -But the stranger did not move. When a young sailor-man sees an -extremely pretty girl, his instinct is to stand still and look. Jack -stood still. I will not say he was not nervous. He was. But he -conquered his nervousness, like the brave fellow he was, and stood his -ground. - -Marjolaine began to get angry. This was an outrage. She looked up at -him once more, and this time there was a flash in her eyes which was -meant to annihilate him. It did. If she had not looked up, he might -ultimately have gone reluctantly away. But this look finished him and -rooted him to the spot. - -Marjolaine returned to her book. But Telemachus had taken on a new -shape. He had laughing blue eyes and he carried a naval jacket with -gold buttons over his arm. Also he stood looking at her. This was -intolerable. If the stranger would not move, she must. It went horribly -against her pride to retreat in the face of the enemy, but if the enemy -would n't retreat, what were you to do? - -She closed the book with an angry bang and rose to her feet. The -movement roused Jack to a sense of his own inexplicable behaviour. - -"I beg your pardon!" he stammered, involuntarily. - -Marjolaine eyed him haughtily from head to foot. She had read somewhere -that this is what a well-bred young woman should do under similar -circumstances. - -"Why?" said she, raising her eyebrows. - -"Oh, I'm so glad you said 'Why?'" cried Jack, with evident relief. - -Marjolaine had not expected this. She was genuinely puzzled and a -little off her guard. She could only repeat, but this time quite -naturally, "Why?" - -"Well," said Jack, very volubly, "if you'd said, 'There's no occasion,' -or if you hadn't said anything, our conversation would have been -finished, you know." - -Marjolaine could have stamped with vexation. Of course she ought to have -said nothing. And here she was entrapped into what this very bold young -man described as a "conversation"! - -"The conversation is finished," she said, trying to pass him. - -But he held up his hand. "No. It's my turn to ask you a question!" - -"_Hein?_" she cried, more than ever on her dignity. He had the -impudence to accuse her of asking him a question! - -Jack remembered his manners. With a low bow he presented himself. "I -'m Jack Sayle, at your service. I 'm a lieutenant in the Navy; and I -'ve just rowed down from Richmond--three miles. I 'm home on leave; and -I 'm looking for an old friend." - -"All that is very interesting," said Marjolaine, "but it is n't a -question," and once more she tried to get by. - -Jack felt rather injured. She might have shown a little more interest -in the autobiography he had just favoured her with. "I thought it was -polite to tell you who I was. As for the question: it 's uncommon hot, -and when I saw this terrace I said there 'd be sure to be one here. Is -there?" - -"What?" cried Marjolaine, this time really stamping her foot. - -"An inn?" - -"Certainly not." - -"Can't you tell me where there is one?" - -"I do not frequent them," answered she, freezingly. - -"No?" said Jack, crestfallen. "Sorry. I am dry. You see, I 've rowed -all the way from Richmond. Five miles." - -Marjolaine had manoeuvred safely inside her own gate. She felt she -could afford a parting shot at him. "I 'm afraid you 'll have to row -all the way back again. Good afternoon." By this time her hand grasped -the handle of the door. - -Jack addressed the world in general. "Curious, how different everything -is." - -Marjolaine turned. "Different what is?" - -"Why, if I 'd met an old gentleman outside his house in Spain, and he 'd -seen how I was suffering, he 'd have said his house was mine." - -Marjolaine indignantly came down one step. "I am not an old gentleman; I -haven't any house in Spain; and it's a shame to say I 'm inhospitable!" - -Jack's face wore an inscrutable smile. He protested. "I didn't. I -only said it was different." - -Marjolaine came back to the gate. - -"Are you really suffering?" she asked. - -Jack turned away to hide an unmistakable grin. He spoke in a hollow -voice. "Intolerably." Then he turned to her with a haggard -countenance. "Look at my face!" - -Marjolaine came out of the gate. Ah, Marjolaine! The moth and the -candle! - -"I can't ask you in, because Maman and Nanette are out." - -Jack staggered to the seat under the elm, and sank on it like a man in -the last stage of exhaustion. "It's of no consequence. I must row -back. Seven miles. Against the tide. Ah, well!" - -Marjolaine was genuinely sorry for him. He really was very good-looking. - -"I'm sure Maman would ask you in, if she were here." - -"I 'm quite sure of that." - -"And I think she would not like me to be--as you say--inhospitable." - -"I didn't say it; but I'm quite sure she would n't." - -Marjolaine's kind little heart was quite melted. This good-looking young -man spoke so very humbly. - -"I might--I might bring you out something--" - -A gleam of triumph crossed Jack's face, but he answered with the air of -a martyr: "Oh! don't trouble!" - -Marjolaine's sense of the proprieties got the better of her again. -"What would the neighbours say if they saw me feeding an entire -stranger?" - -Jack leaped up in indignant protest. "But I 'm not! I 've told you my -name. That's as much as anybody ever knows about anybody!" - -Marjolaine was now in the shadow of the elm. She examined every house in -the Walk. "Number One 's asleep; Number Two 's combing her wig; Number -Three 's working; Number Five's nursing one of the four; and Number -Six"--poor Doctor Sternroyd!--"doesn't matter. I 'll risk it." She -turned to go in, but stopped. "What would you like?" - -Jack protested, "Oh, my dear young lady!--It's not for me to say. -Anything you offer me--anything!" - -Ticking the items off on her pretty fingers, Marjolaine enumerated the -various beverages stored in her mother's cupboard. "We have elderberry -wine; cowslip wine; red-currant wine; and gooseberry wine." - -Jack's face was a study. It had grown so long that Marjolaine exclaimed -with genuine sympathy, "Why, you look quite ill! Which do you say?" - -It was a choice between poison and discourtesy, but Jack was equal to -it. "I 've been brought up very simply. I should never have the -presumption to ask for any of those. Have n't you any ale?" - -"Ale!" cried Marjolaine, "how low!" - -"I said I 'd been brought up simply." - -"We have no ale." - -Before he could stop himself Jack had cried "And this is England!" - -But Marjolaine had had an idea. "I know! There 's Maman's claret. She -takes it for her health. What do you say to _that_?" - -Jack had not tried it, and did n't know what he might be likely to say -to it. He could only stammer, "Oh, it's better than--better than--" he -was going to add elderberry, or cowslip, but caught himself up in -time--"better than ale." - -"Ah!--Now, will you wait a moment under the tree?" - -"I'll wait hours, anywhere!" - -Marjolaine caught sight of a figure moving about in Number Three. She -came on tip-toe to Jack. You see, by this time there was quite a -conspiracy between them. - -"No! Better!" she whispered. "Go into the Gazebo." - -Jack could only stare at her. "Into the what?" - -She ran across to the summer-house, Jack following her. - -"Here," she cried, "in the summer-house. And keep quite still." - -For a moment a horrible suspicion crossed Jack's mind. "I say! You -will come back? You 're not going to leave me here to perish of thirst?" - -"That would be a good joke!" she laughed. - -"I 'll carve your name while you 're gone!" - -"No, you won't!" - -"Why not?" - -"Because you don't know it!--_Voila_!" - -And before he could stop her she had tripped into the house. - -Jack sat for a moment in a sort of silent rapture. - -Then all he said to himself was "By George!" three times repeated; and -if you don't know what that exclamation meant, I 'm sure I can't tell -you. - -Marjolaine had left the "Adventures of Telemachus" on the seat in the -Gazebo. Under ordinary circumstances Jack would have avoided picking up -a book; but this was her book; it had been in her hands; her eyes had -looked at it; it was not so much a book as a part of the little goddess; -so he picked it up tenderly and tenderly opened it. There, on the -fly-page, was a name.--"Lucy Pryor"--Of course! Her name! Lucy -Pryor--just the sort of pretty, simple name she would have. Aha! but -now he'd astonish her! She should find he had carved her name, after -all! Out came his sailor's knife, and to work he went, and as he carved -he sang a little song to himself, the words of which were, "Lucy, Lucy, -Lucy Pryor." He was not a poet. - -The Eyesore came slowly round the corner. Seeing the little lady was no -longer on the seat, he drew his line out of the water--I need hardly -record the fact that there was no fish on it. With a sigh he seated -himself on his box, with his back to the Walk; patiently he placed a new -worm on the empty hook, and in a moment he was immersed in his -contemplative occupation. There was utter silence in the Walk. - -Then the upstairs window of Number Five was thrust open and Mr. Jerome -Brooke-Hoskyn, at his ease in his shirt-sleeves, and enjoying a -church-warden pipe, leant out. He was evidently conversing with his -wife, and was in his tenderest mood. - -[Illustration: MR. JEROME BROOKE-HOSKYN, AT HIS EASE] - -"What a pity, my dearest Selina, you are temporarily deprived of the use -of your limbs! The river is flowing by--What? Do I expect it to stop? -No, of course I don't. Why check my musings? I say, the river is -flowing by. Not a living thing is in sight except the Eyesore; and he -enhances the beauty of his surroundings by sheer contrast. My smoke -does not incommode you, my own?--You can bear it?--Dear soul! Am I the -man to deprive you of an innocent pleasure?--" - -He might have gone on all the afternoon in this strain, but at this -moment Marjolaine came very cautiously out of her house carrying a tray -on which was a bottle of claret, a tumbler, and a cake. Mr. -Brooke-Hoskyn was immediately absorbed in this new and inexplicable -phenomenon. What could it mean? He watched Marjolaine half-way across -the lawn. Then in his softest and most caressing tones he exclaimed, -"Why, Miss Marjory--!" Marjolaine gave a little cry and very nearly let -all the things drop. She stood aghast. - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn continued, "Is your mother in the Gazebo?" - -Before Marjolaine could think of anything to say she had said "No." - -"Indeed?--Then why this genteel refection?" Here Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn was -forced to look over his shoulder into the room and answer the invisible -Selina. "Yes, my own. I am speaking to Miss Marjory." - -Meanwhile Jack was signalling frantically to Marjolaine, who, on her -part, was as frantically motioning him to keep still. Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn -again leant forward, and Jack vanished only just in time. - -Marjolaine explained. "I--I always take a little refreshment at this -hour." - -It was quite obvious that Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn did not believe her. - -"How singularly unobservant I am! I have never noticed it. Wait one -moment. I 'll come and help you." - -This would never do. "No, thank you," cried Marjolaine, "I am sure your -wife wants you." And she added, as a parting shot, "She sees so little -of you!" - -Then taking her courage in both hands she hurried into the Gazebo, where -she and Jack stood, pictures of horror, silently awaiting Mr. -Brooke-Hoskyn's next move. - -The latter leant far out of his window vainly endeavouring to peer round -the corner. "Curious, very curious," he muttered. - -"Did you hear him?" asked Marjory, in a tragic whisper. - -"If he comes here I 'll punch his head," growled Jack. - -"Be quiet!"--And again they both listened. - -But Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn's attention was engaged by Selina, and it was -clear from his remarks that the dear lady was not in her pleasantest -humour. "No, my dear, of course I did n't mean to go.--_Do_ you think -her an ugly little thing?--Matter of taste.--Oh, come! Not jealous, my -own one?--Hold your hand?--Oh, certainly, if you wish it!" And down -came the window with a crash and what sounded very like a fine Saxon -monosyllable. - -Marjolaine and Jack, hearing the window close, uttered a sigh of relief. - -"Thank goodness!" cried Marjolaine; and then, being a daughter of Eve, -"Now you see what you 've done!" - -"'Pon my honour, I 've done nothing. Just waited hours." - -"Hours, indeed!" said the girl, scornfully. - -"It seemed hours," answered Jack, insinuatingly. "It seemed -hours--Miss--Lucy Pryor." - -"Lucy Pryor? Oh! you got that out of the book! That was Maman's name -before she married. My name's Lachesnais." - -"Beg pardon?" - -"La-ches-nais. Marjolaine Lachesnais. You don't pronounce the middle -_s_." - -"Are you French?" - -"My father was." She had filled the tumbler with claret and was holding -it out to Jack. "Never mind about all that. Make haste." - -Jack rose to his feet, tumbler in hand. - -"Marjolaine--? That means Marjoram, does n't it?" - -"Do you know French?" - -Jack bowed as he swallowed the claret. He swallowed unwisely. It was a -lady's claret, and that and a lady's cigar are things to be avoided by -the judicious. Indeed Jack was shaken from head to foot by a convulsive -shudder. "Oh Lord!" said he involuntarily. But he pulled himself -together like a man. "I beg pardon!--Know French? Very little. -Marjoram--sweet Marjoram--how appropriate!" - -Marjolaine was eyeing him with grave suspicion. "You are not drinking. -It is Maman's claret!" - -Jack gazed stonily at his half-empty tumbler. "Does she--does she take -this for her health?" - -"Yes. As medicine." - -"As medicine--I understand." - -"You said you were thirsty." - -"It's a wonderful wine. Quenches your thirst at once." He put the -glass away from him. - -"Take some cake?" said Marjolaine. - -She had forgotten to bring a knife, so Jack, sailorlike, broke the cake -in two pieces. - -"I say!" he cried, "you must have some too, or I shall feel greedy!" -And there they sat, like two children, contentedly munching and swinging -their legs. - -"I shall call you Marjory," said Jack, between two bites. - -"They all do," answered Marjolaine, with her mouth full. - -"Do they?" asked Jack ferociously. "Who?" - -Marjolaine waved her cake at the Walk in general. "Oh--the neighbours." - -"Impudence!" growled Jack. But he recovered quickly. "I say! Isn't -this delightful?" - -"It's very strange. Do you know, you are the first young man I 've ever -spoken to, in all my life?" - -Jack's eyes expressed his joy. "No!--that's first-rate!" - -Marjolaine stared at him with astonishment. "Why?" - -"Oh, I don't know. I hate young men." - -"Then you ought to live here. Here--everybody is--oh!--so old!" - -"Poor little girl," said Jack, with deep sympathy. - -"Why?" - -"Must be so lonely." - -"Oh, no! One cannot feel lonely where there 's a river. Twice every -day it brings down news from the meadows, where the flowers are, and the -cattle, standing knee-deep in its margin, and the _demoiselles_--how do -you say?--dragonflies--and the willows, dipping their branches in it. -And then, when the tide turns, it comes back from the great town, and -sings of the ships and the crowded bridges, and the King and Queen -taking their pleasure in great, golden barges. And the sea-gulls come -with it, and it sings of the sea!" - -Her eyes were flashing; her face was transfigured; Jack was leaning -forward eagerly, and if there had been any loophole of escape for him -before, there was certainly none now. - -"Do you love the sea?" - -"What do I know of it?" said she, coming to earth again. "I have only -crossed from Dunkerque to Tilbury. But that was lovely! It was very -rough; and I stood against the mast, and my hair blew all about, and I -shouted for joy!--Oh! I should love to be a pirate!" - -"Fine!" cried Jack, as excited as she. "Tell you what! We 'll charter -a ship, and sweep the seas, and bang the enemy!" - -"'We'?--Why, you're going away in a minute, and I shall never see you -again." - -There was a pause. Marjolaine's words had brought them both to a sense -of reality. Finally Jack spoke, and his voice had a new ring of -earnestness. - -"Marjory--do you mean that?" - -She turned wonderingly innocent eyes on him. "Why should you come -again?" - -"Think a moment. Let us both think. We are very young, and I know I 'm -hasty. Let us sit quite still, and think hard whether we 'd like to -meet again. Let us look at each other and not speak." - -[Illustration: "LET US SIT QUITE STILL AND THINK HARD WHETHER WE'D LIKE -TO MEET AGAIN"] - -She met his look quite frankly for a moment--but only for a moment. -Slowly her head sank and her eyes half closed, and when she spoke, she -spoke very shyly. "I do not see why you should not come again," she -whispered. - -"I see why I should! I must!--But it must be differently." - -"Differently--?" - -"I mustn't come on the sly. I'll get an introduction." - -"But none of your friends are likely to know anybody in Pomander Walk!" - -Jack leaped up. "Is this Pomander Walk?" he almost shouted. "Why, that -'s what I Ve been looking for all the afternoon. That's where my friend -lives--the Admiral!" - -It was Marjolaine's turn to be astonished. - -"Not Sir Peter Antrobus!" - -"Yes!--Do you know him?" - -"Why, he's the King of the Walk! He lives at Number One. If you 're -quite quiet you can almost hear him snoring!" - -"Why, there we are then! I'm introduced! I'm on a proper footing! The -whole thing's ship-shape! O Marjory, what a relief!" - -"But I don't understand--" - -"Yes, you do. He 's my father's oldest friend. I served under him as a -middy on board the _Termagant_. I 'm very fond of him. I 'll come and -see him to-morrow!" - -Marjolaine clapped her hands. "And then he can introduce you to Maman!" - -"Don't you see? It's grand! I'll come and see him often--every -day--twice a day. If he 's out, I can sit under the elm and wait for -him--with you. Oh! are n't you glad?" - -"I'm very glad you 've found your old friend," she answered demurely. - -"What's to-day?" - -"Quintidi. Fifth Prairial. Year Thirteen--" she replied without -thinking. - -Jack could only stare. "What are you talking about?" - -"Oh," she laughed, "I had forgotten I was in England. Saturday." - -Jack's face sank. "Then to-morrow 's Sunday. Hang. Well! I'll come on -Monday. Shall you be here?" - -"I am always here." - -"Be under the elm." He thought a moment, and then added insidiously, -"Shall you your mother about to-day?" - -Marjolaine hesitated. Perhaps it would be better to wait until the -proper formalities had been observed. "On Monday; when you've been -introduced." - -"That's it!" cried Jack. "And now I'll be off." He took both her hands -in his. "Good-bye. Oh, but it's good to be alive! It's good to be -young! The river is good that brought me here! The sun is good that -made me thirsty!" - -"And the claret was good?" - -"The claret--! Nectar!--Oh, Jack!--Jack!--" - -Marjolaine held up the glass, still half full. - -"Finish it, then." - -Jack started back in horror, but seeing the dawning surprise on her -face, bravely seized the tumbler and dashed it off. Thus swiftly was -his perjury avenged. - -"Good-bye, little Marjory. Till Monday!" - -She looked up at him wistfully. "You think you will come?" - -"Think!" cried Jack; and every lover's vow was in the one word. - -"Slip to your boat, quickly!" cried Marjolaine, peeping round the corner -of the Gazebo. But before he could move she gave a startled cry and -motioned him back. For the Muffin-man had entered the Walk ringing his -bell. - -"Dash it! What's that?" cried Jack. - -"Keep still! It's the Muffin-man!" - -"I'm off!" - -"Wait!" Now she was peeping through an opening in the box-wood hedge. -"Jack! The whole Walk's awake! Look!" - -Jack's head was very close to hers. "I can't see; your hair's in the -way. Don't move!" For a moment they stood watching. - -And indeed the Walk was awake. The Muffin-man's bell had acted like -magic. The Admiral and Jim were already bargaining with him. Mrs. -Poskett was on her doorstep with a plate in her hand. So was Ruth -Pennymint. Barbara was in the garden, and Basil was telling her just -how many muffins he wanted from the upstairs window; Jane, Mr. -Brooke-Hoskyn's maid, was waiting impatiently; and Dr. Sternroyd had -come out of his house book in hand, and was making frantic signals so as -not to be overlooked. And they were all talking, and gesticulating, and -calling. - -"By Jove!" cried Jack excitedly, "there's old Antrobus!" - -"All of them! All of them!" wailed Marjolaine. - -"They 're all buying muffins--greedy pigs!--They won't see me." He made -as if to dash out. - -Marjolaine held him back. "Yes, they will. Let me go first. I'll get -them talking, and then you can slip away." But she started back with a -suppressed scream. - -"What now?" cried Jack. - -"Maman and Nanette!" - -Yes. As ill-luck would have it Madame Lachesnais and her old servant -turned the corner at this moment, and with a friendly word to each of -her neighbours Madame was coming slowly towards the Gazebo. - -"They must not come here!" cried Marjolaine in distress. "I cannot -explain you before the whole Walk!--Is my hair straight?" - -"Lovely!--Monday?" - -"Oh, I don't know. I'm frightened." - -"Monday?" insisted Jack. - -"Yes! Yes!" - -But meanwhile Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn had come out of his house, and taking -advantage of the hubbub in the Walk had crossed--shall I say like a -sleuth-hound?--more like a sleuth-cat, if there be such an animal--to -the Gazebo. So that when Marjolaine came forward to intercept her -mother, she ran straight into his arms. - -"All right, Miss Marjory," he whispered, with something very like a -wink, "I'll fetch the things for you." - -"No, no!" cried Marjolaine, in agony. - -Her mother caught sight of her and called her. - -For a moment Marjolaine stood irresolute. Then, with an almost -hysterical laugh, she ran to her mother. "Me voila, Maman cherie!" - -Jack was peering through the hole in the hedge, looking for a chance of -escape. Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn put his head slily round the corner of the -Gazebo--and, sure enough, just as he had suspected--there was a young -man! - -What with the Muffin-man, and Madame, and Marjolaine running to and fro -and button-holing everybody who seemed to be inclined to drift towards -the summer-house, the Walk's attention was fully occupied. Mr. -Brooke-Hoskyn lifted his fat hand and brought it down with a sounding -thwack on Jack's shoulder. - -"What the devil--?" cried Jack, turning fiercely on his assailant. And -then in amazement, "Hoskyn! By all that's improbable, old Hoskyn!" - -If it were possible for a large man to shrivel, the great Mr. Jerome -Brooke-Hoskyn seemed to shrivel as he recognised Jack. He could only -stammer, "You, sir--you!--" - -"Hoskyn!" repeated Jack. And then, suspiciously, "What the devil are -you doing here?" - -I hate to have to write the words, but Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn had all the -obsequious manner of a well-trained servant. "I beg pardon, sir," he -muttered, and turned to go. - -But Jack caught him by the lapel of his coat. "No, no, Hoskyn; you don't -get off so easily. What are you doing here?" - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn turned sulky. "I'm living here, sir." - -"The doose you are!--Well, you're in the nick of time. Be a good fellow -and fetch my hat out of the boat." - -"Certainly, sir," said Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn. But as he started to do so, he -caught sight of the Admiral. He turned to Jack and said respectfully -but firmly, "I'm very sorry, Master Jack; but I can't do it." - -"Why not?" - -"I'm looked up to here, sir. I should lose prestige." - -Jack eyed him half with suspicion and half with mockery. "I say, -Hoskyn, what's your little game?" - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn was getting angry. "What's yours, sir?" he asked -defiantly. - -"What the devil do you mean?" - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn pointed an accusing finger at the wine and the crumbs -of cake. "I mean--this." - -"What of it? What do you insinuate?" cried Jack fiercely. - -But Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn's blood was up, and he was not to be intimidated. -"It ain't right, sir. It ain't right for you to come here like a snake -in the grass drinking claret and making love to our little Miss Marjory. -I won't help you! I'll be damned if I do!" - -"Do you mean I'm doing something underhand?" - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn looked at him sternly. "Well--ain't you, sir?" - -"I'll devilish soon show you!" shouted Jack, trying to pass him. - -But now Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn fell into a sudden panic. "Don't betray me, -sir! Don't, sir!" he entreated, trying to stop him. - -Jack thrust him roughly aside with an angry, "Out of my way!" and poor -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn sank on the seat in the summer-house, gasping, "Good -Lord! He'll tell the whole Walk!" - -Jack had acted on the spur of the moment; but now that he was face to -face with all the inhabitants of the Walk a sudden shyness took hold of -him and he stood irresolute. Marjolaine had sat down exhausted on the -seat under the elm, and Madame Lachesnais was coming towards her. -Little Barbara Pennymint was the first to see Jack. She gave a demure -little scream and ran to the Admiral. "Look! A stranger!" Sir Peter -was on his dignity at once. He came straight at Jack. "Now, sir--may I -ask--?" - -"Admiral," cried Jack, saluting. - -"Eh," said the Admiral, fixing his one eye on the young man, -"Gobblessmysoul! what a coincidence!" He seized Jack's hand and nearly -wrung it off, while the whole Walk watched with amazed curiosity, and -Marjolaine looked on with delight. "I'm delighted to see you, my -lad!--De-lighted!" He turned to Madame Lachesnais as the social leader -of the Walk. "Madame Lachesnais!" he cried, holding Jack by the hand, -"Let me have the honour of presenting my gallant young friend, the -Honourable Jack Sayle, son of my old friend, Lord--" - -He never got any further. At the words, "Jack Sayle," Madame, who had -been standing smilingly to welcome the young man, gave a sharp cry, -swayed, and sank swooning in Nanette's arms. - -Then what a commotion there was, to be sure! Marjolaine ran to her -mother, Mrs. Poskett, Ruth and Barbara crowded round her or rushed about -vaguely, crying, "Salts! Quick!" The Admiral stood petrified a moment. -Then he hurried Jack towards the boat. "Get away, Jack!" Jack -resisted. "But--!" - -"Away with you!" insisted the Admiral in a raucous whisper. -"Discretion!--They'll have to unhook her!" - -But the Eyesore went on fishing. - - - - - *CHAPTER VI* - - *IN WHICH POMANDER WALK IS NOT QUITE ITSELF* - - -[Illustration: Chapter VI headpiece] - - -The Admiral was much troubled. A week had elapsed since Madame fainted, -and although the mysterious process of unhooking her, together with a -dash of water on her face, and the salts, had brought her to very -rapidly, a cloud had seemed to hang over the Walk since that moment. It -was certainly not itself, and it had grown less like itself as the days -passed. Madame was apparently quite well, yet she stayed within doors, -or, if she came out, her face was more than usually sad, and she walked -with slow steps, like one who bears a heavy burden of sorrow. She was -not seen in church on Sunday. Marjolaine was there, bright and happy. -She had assured everybody there was nothing really serious the matter -with her mother: only a headache. On Monday morning Marjolaine was -still her usual merry self, but as the morning wore into the afternoon -and the afternoon into the evening she grew restless. The Admiral -noticed that she kept on going to the river-bank and looking up and down -stream as if she were expecting someone. On Tuesday she was out very -early, still apparently watching. On Wednesday she grew silent, and -refused to have her usual singing-lesson on the plea that she was not -feeling very well. On Thursday she turned unnaturally gay, but there -was a hard note in her laughter, and Sir Peter had caught her sobbing in -the Gazebo. Fortunately she had not noticed him, and he was able to -retire without disturbing her. But he himself was greatly disturbed. -The more so as he had seen that Madame was watching her daughter -intently, and that every change in Marjolaine was reflected on the elder -lady's face. - -Friday found Marjolaine pale and dejected; and here was midday on -Saturday, and she had not yet appeared! - -Could she be sickening for a serious illness? Sir Peter was nervous and -anxious. He was also put out by the fact that although Jack Sayle had -promised as he hurriedly rowed away, that he would come to see him on -the Monday, the whole week had passed without a sign of the young -lieutenant, and without any word of explanation. - -But the entire Walk was nervous and anxious. It had grown so accustomed -to Marjolaine's songs and merry laughter, that as she grew silent and -grave, the Walk grew silent and grave with her. Mrs. Poskett's temper -underwent a change for the worse, and she and Ruth Pennymint very nearly -had words over a milk-can which the dairy-man had carelessly hung on the -wrong railing. Ruth's ill-humour was aggravated by the behaviour of -Barbara and Basil. They went about sighing and turning up the whites of -their eyes; Barbara shut herself up two and three hours every day with -the parrot, and Basil ground at the slow movement of the Kreutzer -Sonata, repeating one particularly heart-rending passage so persistently -that Ruth wanted to scream. - -But the man who behaved most strangely of all was Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn. -That magnificent creature showed all the symptoms of a guilty -conscience. It is true he strutted about the Walk, dressed as -faultlessly as ever, swung his tassled cane with much of his old -elegance, and took snuff with all the airy grace imaginable. And -yet--and yet--! Somehow, his clothes seemed to hang loosely on him. -Somehow, his hat, though poised at a rakish angle, no longer conveyed -the old devil-may-care impression. His face no longer beamed with -unassailable self-satisfaction. There was a furtive look in his eyes, -as though he were constantly on the watch. It is a low comparison to -apply, but if you have ever seen a dog who knows he has just stolen a -piece of meat, you have seen Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn. Once, when the Admiral, -who was stubbornly resisting the universal depression, came up behind -him unobserved and suddenly slapped him on the back, he screamed--he -positively screamed. "Thought the Bow-street runners was after you?" -roared the Admiral heartily. But the tone of fury with which he replied -"Certainly not, sir! How dare you?" was so sincere that Sir Peter did -not pursue the joke. Evidently he had indeed thought the runners were -after him. - -The Walk was like a drooping flower, and even the Eyesore felt the -depressing influence; he fished less hopefully than ever, and it was -noticed that he interrupted his fishing more frequently for excursions -outside the bounds of Pomander Walk: excursions from which he returned -wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and returned each time -perhaps a trifle less steadily. - -Now, all these good people had lost their usual good spirits and their -cheery outlook on life merely because one little girl had left off -laughing; and she had left off laughing because one very young man had -not kept his word. - -The servants of the Walk were very busy this Saturday morning. Jane, -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn's nurse, was explaining to Abigail, Mrs. Poskett's -little maid, that nothing should persuade her to continue wearing the -Charity-School costume after she had risen to the dignity of domestic -service. Jim was feverishly polishing the Admiral's little brass -cannon. That brass cannon was the apple of the Admiral's remaining eye; -and at the same time the plague of his life. On every state occasion, -such as the King's birthday, or the anniversary of the Battle of -Copenhagen, he would, to the great terror of the Walk, have it out, -plant it pointing truculently to the opposite side of the river and, -standing well away from it, apply a match. This was always an agonised -moment of suspense for the Walk. But invariably the gun refused to go -off. The Admiral's expletives, however, supplied an efficient -substitute. I am sorry to say the failure to explode was always due to -an act of treachery on Jim's part. The Walk subscribed five shillings -towards that ancient mariner's liquid refreshment, and the ancient -mariner withdrew the charge in the dead of night. To-day he was -polishing the gun well in view of all the houses. The King's birthday -was approaching, and the Walk needed a gentle reminder that unless it -wished to be stunned and to have all its windows broken, now was the -time to start the usual collection. - -Nanette came out of Number Four, carrying a rug and a bamboo cane, -evidently bent on beating the former on the lawn. Jane drew Jim's -attention to her. Then began a battle of tongues. Jim tried to explain -that this was not allowed. If she wanted to beat the rug, she must do -so in the back garden. Words, none of which either could understand, -grew high; Abigail and Jane joined in, and the place became a veritable -Babel of screaming voices and of wildly waving arms. - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn opened his window violently. "What's all this?" he -cried; and he was such an amazing apparition that the voices sank to -sudden silence and the servants rushed, helter-skelter, into their -respective houses. - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn was finishing his toilet. He was brushing his hair. -It stood out on each side of his head like a sort of double mane, and -his face looked exactly like the representations of a flaming sun on the -cover of an almanac. He was carrying on a conversation with Selina, and -both he and his wife were evidently in a bad humour. - -"But, my own Selina," said he, "what was I to do? Be reasonable. I -only wrote and told his lordship the boy was carrying on a clandestine -love-affair.--No, of course I did n't sign the letter.--None of my -business?--Now, Selina, if I had n't wrote he 'd have come again, and -all would have been disclosed. We should have been obleeged to leave -the Walk.--Drat the Walk?--Oh! fie! That is not how my ring-dove -customarily coos.--What? soft words butter no parsnips?--Selina, -Selina--! Does my Selina think she is in her kitchen?--Yes; I know I -'ve made Miss Marjory very unhappy; but we must make other people -unhappy, if we 're to be happy ourselves. I 'm sorry for her, very -sorry. She's a sweet creature." There was a sound of a broken tea-cup. -"There you go again!--You scold me for making her unhappy, and you scold -me for being sorry. There 's no pleasing you anyhow!" - -In his perplexity he had brushed his hair over the top of his head, and -now he looked like an angry cockatoo. - -Marjolaine came slowly and dejectedly out of her house. She heard Mr. -Brooke-Hoskyn's voice and glanced up at him, but even his wild and -wonderful appearance failed to draw a smile from her. Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn -could not retire, much as he would have liked to. He waved a -conciliatory hair-brush at her, and cried with assumed cheerfulness, -"Ah, Miss Marjory--! How do you do?" then in response to some remark -from his wife, he turned and whispered peevishly, "I must speak to her; -it's only polite. Don't snivel." He addressed Marjolaine again, -deprecatorily, "You are looking a little pale." - -Marjolaine drew herself up. It was intolerable that anybody should see -she was in trouble. - -"I never felt better in my life," she said defiantly. - -"But more like the lily than the rose?" exclaimed Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn with -a fine touch of lyricism; and then to Selina, "No; I am not talking -nonsense! It was a quotation." - -"How is Mrs. Brooke-Hoskyn this morning?" asked Marjolaine. - -"In the highest spirits!" cried Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn. "My dear Selina," he -explained, turning towards the room, "Miss Marjory is kind enough to ask -after your health, and I am telling her you are in the highest spirits. -Do--not--snivel--she 'll hear you!" To Marjolaine, with a ghastly -smile, "Her gaiety is infectious; positively infectious!" Some hard -object, thrown with unerring aim, caught him in the small of the back. -"Oh, Lord!" he cried. "Excuse me, Miss Marjory; Selina has just -remembered a joke she wishes to tell me. Thus the hours pass in -innocent mirth and badinage. Excuse me!" He turned away. "You really -_are_--!" he cried, almost viciously; and slammed the window, and -disappeared. - -But Marjolaine never smiled. She moved as one who had no particular -object in life. She drifted instinctively towards the river-bank -although she knew that strain her eyes as she might the little boat she -had looked for all the week was now less likely than ever to appear. At -one moment she seemed almost inclined to speak to the Eyesore; to ask -him whether he had seen what she had so long been vainly looking for. -But the Eyesore was at that instant impaling a worm, and was altogether -too revolting. She stood a moment looking up and down the stream, and -then turned away with a great sigh. - -Mrs. Poskett's great yellow cat, Sempronius, was curled up in the sun -just behind the Gazebo. Marjolaine looked at him. She and he were fast -friends, and in happier times she would have had a friendly word for him -and an affectionate caress. To-day, even that was too much of an -effort. Fortunately Sempronius was asleep and did not notice her -inattention. - -Sir Peter Antrobus opened his upstair window and hung the osier cage -with the thrush in it on its nail. He caught sight of the disconsolate -little figure. "Missie, ahoy!" he roared, as though he were hailing a -friendly craft in the offing. Marjolaine started. - -"Oh, Sir Peter! You made me jump!" - -"Sent a shot across your bows--what?" roared the Admiral. - -"How's the thrush?" asked Marjolaine with an interest she did not feel. - -"Peaky. Peaky. That confounded cat next door's been watching him. -Seen him about anywhere?" - -Marjolaine pointed to where Sempronius was lying wrapped in innocent -slumber. "He's quite safe," she said. "There." - -But the Eyesore was between him and Sir Peter, and the latter had to -twist himself into what was for so portly a gentleman a very unnatural -position in order to see him. "Eh? Where?" - -"There," she answered, "there, behind the--" she was just going to say -"Eyesore," but stopped herself in time. "Behind the Gazebo." - -"Oh, there! Well, if he moves I'll kill him!" - -Marjolaine wondered. Could Sir Peter tell her what she so much wanted -to know? Could he, at least, be brought to talk about what her heart -was full of? - -"Sir Peter," she said, with as much of her old cheerfulness as she could -summon, and with that pretty way of hers which no one could resist, "Are -you very busy? Could you spare time for a little chat?" - -"With you?" cried the Admiral, gallantly. "Hours!" He vanished from the -window and was heard tumbling down his stairs two at a time. I believe -if he had been only a few years younger he would have slid down the -balustrade. Jim told Jane later in the day he had never seen anything -like it. - -Marjolaine waited for him under the elm, and pondered how she was to -lead the conversation round to what she wanted to hear. - -The Admiral burst out of his house. For once he took no notice of the -Eyesore. The cat, however, did arrest his attention. Sempronius, -scenting an enemy, was blinking at him out of one eye. Sempronius' -attitude towards the Admiral was one of armed neutrality. He knew Sir -Peter bore him no good-will, but he also knew Sir Peter dare not touch -him. Wherefore, although he kept a wary look-out, even the Admiral's -threatening gesture was not enough to make him stir from his sunny -corner. - -Sir Peter came to Marjolaine. - -"He's sitting there, watching the Eyesore like a tiger. Shows cats have -no sense. 'Pears to think the Eyesore's going to catch a fish! Ha! -Never caught a fish in his born days!" He took both Marjolaine's hands -in his. "Well, Missie; what can I do for you?" - -"Talk to me," said Marjolaine. - -Sir Peter was flattered and delighted. Their little Missie was coming -to life again. "Ah!--tell ye what," he said, swinging her hands, "If we -had that fiddler here, we might practise the hornpipe!" He whistled -gaily and tried to force her into the step. - -"No, no!" she cried, breaking away from him; and then, more gently, "No: -not to-day!" - -The Admiral looked at her anxiously out of his one eye. "Oh?" said he, -sympathetically, "In the doldrums?" - -"Sir Peter," she cried, impulsively, "was you ever broken-hearted?" - -"Lord bless your pretty eyes, yes! Every time I left port." - -"Ah! but did the world seem like an empty husk? and did you want to sit -down and cry your eyes out?" - -This was much worse than the Admiral had anticipated. He must try to -make her laugh. - -"Well, ye see, I could only have cried one out, was it ever-so!" - -"Then what did you do? How did you cure yourself?" - -"Why, with a jorum of rum, to be sure!" - -Marjolaine was disappointed. "Oh!--I can't do that!" - -Sir Peter came closer. "What? Are you broken-hearted?" - -Good heavens! What had she been saying? Had she given away her precious -secret? - -"Certainly not!" she answered, with flaming cheeks. "Of course not. -It's nothing. Only somebody--somebody has broken their word." - -"Look-a-that, now!" cried the Admiral, puzzled. "But I'll cure you! -I'll tell you a story. Something funny. How I lost my eye--what?" He -drew her down beside him on the seat under the elm. "Ye see, it was on -board o' the _Termagant_--" - -"When you was with Nelson?" asked Marjolaine. - -"Ay. Battle o' Copenhagen; year Eighteen-one." - -Here was a possible opening. At any rate Marjolaine would try. - -"I suppose you had many officers under you?" she insinuated. - -"Hundreds!" cried Sir Peter, enthusiastically; and then, feeling he had -conveyed an exaggerated impression, "well--when I say hundreds--!" his -memory awoke. "Ah! I was somebody, then!--But this infernal -government--!" - -Marjolaine laid her hand soothingly on his arm. "I suppose some of them -were quite young?" she said, with splendidly assumed indifference. -Every woman is a born actress. - -"Middies?" cried the Admiral, with magnificent contempt. "Lord love ye, -I took no notice o' them! Passel o' powder-monkeys!" Then he added -with a touch of tender recollection, "Not but what Jack Sayle--" - -"Jack what?" said Marjolaine quickly, as if she had not heard. - -"Sayle. Jack Sayle. You know. Young feller I presented to your -lady-mother a week ago. Time she swooned--" - -"Oh, yes." - -"Gobblessmysoul! I was startled! I thought--" - -The Admiral must not be allowed to wander from the only topic that -mattered. Marjolaine interrupted him. "Was he on your ship?" - -"What, Jack Sayle? Ay, was he. And a fine young feller, too. Of -course you was much too agitated to notice him last Saturday. Gad! I -wonder he has n't been to see me all the week. Promised he would. Said -he 'd come last Monday." - -"Did he?" cried Marjory. So he had broken his word in two places! - -"He did. There! He's only on leave, and he has heavy social duties. -Only son of Lord Otford, y' know." - -"Lord Otford!" Marjolaine repeated, amazed. The name and the title -somehow impressed her with a sense of vague fear. - -"Ay, ay," the unconscious Admiral proceeded garrulously. "My old -friend. Otford's selfish about him. Ye see, the boy 'll come into a -great estate. Half a county. And the old man's anxious about his -marriage." - -"Whose marriage?" asked Marjory, almost voicelessly. - -"Why, Jack's, to be sure!--Lord!--they marry 'em now before they 're out -of their swaddling clothes. Otford's in a hurry to secure the -succession--" He stopped abruptly. This was really not a subject to -discuss with a young girl. "Hum!--what I was about to say--er--the -Honourable Caroline Thring--!" - -"Caroline Thring"--Marjolaine repeated the name to herself. It was a -name to remember. - -"Ay--daughter and sole heiress of Lord Wendover. Not my sort. Goes -about doing good--like the party last Saturday. But the two estates 'll -cover the county. It's an undoubted match--" - -Marjolaine had heard all she wanted--and more. She felt she would break -down if the Admiral went on. She looked all around the Walk for help; -for some excuse to break off the conversation. There was only -Sempronius. "I think--" she just gave herself time to make up her mind -as to what she could think--"I think I saw Sempronius stirring!" - -Sir Peter jumped up. "Damn that cat!" he cried--"Beg pardon!--I'll--" -But the golden-haired Sempronius was sound asleep with his bushy tail -over his nose. - -Whether the Eyesore was shocked by the Admiral's bad language--which -seems unlikely--or whether he was moved by his usual thirst, he dropped -his fishing-rod, and vanished round the corner. - -The Admiral hurried back. - -"No. He 's quiet enough." He saw Marjolaine's sad face and added, -"Gobblessmysoul! Here I 've been boring you about a young feller you -don't know--" To his amazement Marjolaine turned her face away -abruptly. The Admiral stopped short. Why did she turn away? Was it -possible that--? How long had Jack been in the Walk when he met him a -week ago? "_Do_ you know him?" said he. Marjolaine was silent. Sir -Peter gave a low whistle. He took her gently by the shoulder and turned -her towards him. "Here, I say, young woman--You just look me in the -eye." He pointed to his good one. "This eye." Marjolaine stood before -him in confusion. It made her angry to feel confused. Why should she -feel confused? "I--I have seen him once," she answered bravely. - -"Have you, begad!--So that's what he was cruising about here for, was -it?--But I'll teach him!" - -Marjolaine was very angry indeed. "Sir Peter!" she flashed at him, "If -you breathe it, I 'll never speak to you again!" - -"D' ye think I 'll have him coming here--?" - -"But he's not coming here!" cried Marjolaine; and with a meaning of her -own: "Oh, don't you see he's not coming?--Swear you won't breathe a word -to a living soul! Swear! Swear!" - -"Damme!" cried the Admiral. "I must think that over. And as for you," -he added, with humorous sternness, "you come and sit under the tree and -I 'll talk to you like a Dutch uncle." - -Marjolaine saw Mrs. Poskett at her window. It would not do for Sir Peter -to talk to her like an uncle--Dutch or otherwise. "Sir Peter!" she -cried, "Sempronius is going to jump!" - -Sir Peter rushed to the cat again, and again found him sound asleep. He -turned furiously towards Marjolaine, but Mrs. Poskett intercepted him. -"Good morning, Sir Peter!" - -Sir Peter looked up, where the widow was shaking the ribbons of her cap -at him. "Morning, ma'am," he said, sulkily. "Your cat--" - -"Hush!" interrupted Mrs. Poskett, craning forward to see her pet. "Dear -Sempronius!--Don't disturb him! He's so happy!" - -"But--!" - -"I 'm sure it's going to rain," the widow explained. "He always sits -there when he feels rain coming; because the fish rise, and he loves -watching them." - -"Confounded nonsense," growled Sir Peter. - -Mrs. Poskett closed her window, and Sir Peter was on the point of -returning to Marjolaine and having it out with her, when Madame -Lachesnais came out of her house. Of course that made all conversation -with the girl impossible, and as he did not feel he could meet the -mother, knowing what he now knew, there was nothing left for him but to -salute her and beat a hasty retreat into his own house and think things -over. - - - - - *CHAPTER VII* - - *SHOWING HOW HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF* - - -[Illustration: Chapter VII headpiece] - - -Engrossed in her own gentle melancholy Madame crossed slowly towards the -river. She was sincerely distressed about Marjolaine. What could be -the matter with the child? This question had haunted her all the week; -but whenever she had tried to speak to her daughter, the latter had -evaded her on one pretext or another. In vain Madame racked her brains. -Marjolaine was not ill; yet she had no appetite; the colour had faded -from her cheeks; the spring had gone out of her step; and the laughter -had died from her lips. Madame remembered the time--long ago: twenty -years ago and more--when she herself had looked and spoken and moved, -just as Marjolaine did now; but there had been a very good reason for -that. In Marjolaine's case there could be no reason. No one had -crossed her young life--or, was she mistaken? That young man who had so -suddenly appeared: who had so suddenly revived the most poignant -memories of her own youth!--Was it conceivable that he and Marjolaine -had met? had perhaps met frequently? It was not conceivable. -Marjolaine was the soul of truth. Marjolaine had been perfectly happy -until a few days ago. Marjolaine had not shown any signs of recognition -when the young man stood there. And yet? Was it wise to be too sure? -In her own case there had been secrecy, and, now she remembered, she had -borne the secrecy unflinchingly; had shown a perfectly calm and happy -exterior. The secrets of the young seem to them quite innocent: merely -possessions of their own which they keep to themselves, which they -cannot understand they are in duty bound to disclose to their elders. -And, to be sure, her own father--she had lost her mother in early -youth--had never tried to win her confidence. A great entomologist -cannot be expected to allow his attention to be distracted by a girl's -sentimental nonsense. But she--had she paid enough attention to her -daughter? Had she not allowed herself to be lulled into false security -by the remoteness of Pomander Walk? But if the young man--Jack Sayle, -of all people in the world!--had won Marjolaine's heart, why, here were -the beginnings of a bitter tragedy: her own tragedy all over again. It -must be nipped in the bud. Mercilessly. She must be cruel to be kind. -Could she be cruel to Marjolaine? Motherhood had its duties, however, -and, now that this great fear was on her, she saw her duty plainly, and -would do it. - -She was interrupted in her meditations by the sound of weeping, and for -the first time, she saw poor Marjolaine sitting under the tree, bending -low, with her face in her hands, shaken with great sobs. She hurried -across to the weeping girl, placed her arm very tenderly over her -shoulders and gently called her by her name. - -[Illustration: "SHE PLACED HER ARM VERY TENDERLY OVER HER SHOULDERS AND -GENTLY CALLED HER BY NAME"] - -The touch of her mother's arm, the sound of her mother's voice let loose -the floodgates. With a cry of "Oh, Maman!" Marjolaine threw her arms -round her mother's waist and buried her face against her. Madame sat -down beside her and drew her very close. "Cherie--my darling! What is -the matter?" - -Marjolaine tried to master herself; tried to put on a brave face; dashed -the tears from her eyes, as she answered--"Nothing, Maman. I think--it -is so beautiful here!--So peaceful! It made me cry. Let me cry a -little on your heart." - -There was a sad smile on Madame's face. As if you cried because the sun -was shining and the Walk was quiet! "Cry, Marjolaine," she murmured -soothingly. "Do you think I have not been watching you all this week? -Cry, my darling, and tell me." - -"There is nothing to tell, Maman," said the girl between her sobs. -"Realty and truly there is nothing." She looked wistfully towards the -river. "There was something; but--" and down went her head on her -mother's breast--"there is nothing now." - -Madame stroked the fair head lying on her bosom. "My dear, my dear!--I -tried every day to speak to you, but you would not. For the first time -in our lives you and I, who should be everything to each other, were -parted." - -"Oh, Maman!" cried Marjolaine, looking up into her mother's face, "that -was because I was waiting to tell you a great secret. But the secret no -longer exists. It has"--she made one of her quaint little gestures--"it -has--evaporated!" And with a new outburst of tears she again hid her -face. - -Madame looked at her lovingly, and kept silence a moment. So, then, -there was a secret? What secret? What but one secret is ever in a young -girl's heart? "Ah, cherie," she murmured, "you see? The secret exists: -it is gnawing at your heart. It will hurt you and hurt you, till you -tell me." - -Marjolaine looked up. Her mother was right. Speaking might bring her -some relief. She would tell her. She tried to speak; but a look of -puzzled amazement came into her eyes. Now that she was willing and -anxious to speak, she had nothing to say. - -"Tell me," repeated Madame. - -"I can't, Maman." - -"Why not?" - -"I cannot begin alone: I don't know how." - -"Shall I help you, Marjolaine?" - -"Can you?" - -Madame could only guess; but even if the guess were mistaken, it might -lead to the truth. So she spoke tentatively. - -"Let us say, you were sitting here, under the elm? And that stranger, -that young man--" - -There was no need to go on. Marjolaine had already risen to her feet. -Her thoughts were let loose: all the thoughts she had locked in her -breast during the past week, the memories that had been tormenting her, -the problems she had been struggling with. She saw Jack Sayle as if he -were standing before her. "He stood over there, in the sun"--she spoke -quietly but intensely--"and he looked at me, and I looked at him; and--" -her voice was hushed, and although she addressed her mother she did not -turn to her, but kept her eyes on the spot where Jack had -stood--"Mother! what happened to me? I felt as if he and I had always -known each other, and as if we were alone in the world. No! As if he -were alone, and I were a part of him. And we spoke. Nothings. Things -that didn't matter. Silly things; about his being thirsty, and what I -could give him. But it was only our voices speaking. I know it was -only my voice: it was not I. I was thinking of sunshine and music and -flowers. And then we went into the Gazebo; and the foolish talk ran on! -And all the time my heart was singing!--He told me his name; and my -heart took it and wove music around it, and sang it! and sang it!" Her -voice sank to an awed whisper. "And--Mother!--I seemed to step out of -childhood suddenly, into--into what, Mother?--What was it?" - -"Alas!" sighed Madame. The child's words had carried her back, so far, -so far! Back to her own early youth. Just so had the day been -transfigured for her. Just so the sunshine had taken on a new glamour. -Just so her own heart had sung its hymns of rapture. Just so she had -stepped across the threshold of childhood. - -But Marjolaine continued. "When he went, I felt as if he had taken me -with him: my heart and my mind. He said he was coming again--but he -never came; and every day I have wandered about; looking for what he had -taken; looking for my life!" she sank on her knees at her mother's feet. -"He will never come again! He will never bring back what he has carried -away!--Oh, mother, what is it?" - -Her tears flowed freely now, but silently: tears of relief at having -unburdened her heart. Madame looked down at her with such pity as only a -mother can feel. "My darling! Is it so serious as that? God help us, -poor blind things!" She remembered what she must have been doing while -this fateful meeting took place. "While my child was going through the -fire, I was matching silks for my embroidery!" - -Marjolaine looked up at her with great, innocent eyes. "But it would -have been the same if you had been there!" - -"I suppose so," said Madame, sadly. "There is no barrier against it: -not even a mother's arms." - -"But what is it?" asked Marjolaine, wistfully. - -Her mother looked at her searchingly, and Marjolaine met her gaze -steadfastly, with her clear, truthful eyes. It was patent she did not -indeed know what caused this new pain at her heart. Madame looked long. -Her daughter seemed, in a way, suddenly to have become a stranger to -her. This child was a child no longer, and her mother no longer held -the first place in her heart. Yes! and if Marjolaine had suddenly leapt -out of childhood, then she, the mother, must begin to face old age: she -was the mother of a marriageable girl. She would fight against this -while she could; not for unworthy or small motives, but to keep her -daughter's companionship. Who was this Jack Sayle that he should come -like a thief in the night and steal Marjolaine's youth, her happiness -and her peace of mind, and tear the girl out of her mother's arms? "No," -she said, at last, "I will not tell you. If I told you it would grow -stronger; and it must not. It shall not. You must win yourself back, -as I did. Oh! but sooner, and more completely!" - -Marjolaine was amazed. Had her mother gone through what she was going -through now? "As you did--?" she cried, in a voice which betrayed her -astonishment. - -Madame smiled sadly. "My dearest dear, the young never realise they are -not beginning the world. Your story is mine." - -With a cry of "Oh, mother!" Marjolaine nestled closer. - -"Yes; but mine was longer and therefore left more pain in its track. -Cherie, cherie, I am not telling you this to make light of your sorrow, -but to show you I know what your pain is: to show you how to fight now, -now, with all your might, to win yourself back." She paused a moment, -to gather her thoughts and to gather strength. Then she continued very -softly, almost as if she were speaking to herself, "It was years and -years ago, in my father's garden--in the old vicarage garden--that I -felt the sun and the song enter my heart. He and I were very young and -very happy." Madame paused. "And then he rode away; and I never saw him -again." - -"Maman!" whispered Marjolaine, stroking her mother's cheek. - -"We had lived in our dream a whole year; so my love--" - -Marjolaine started at the word. "Love!" Was this love?-- - -But her mother did not notice her, and went on; "So my love had time to -grow. Its roots were twined round my heart; and when he left me, and -tore the roots out of me, I thought he had torn my heart out with them." - -"Like me," said Marjolaine, below her breath. - -Madame drew her closer, and whispered, "Would you like to know his -name?" - -There was something in her mother's voice which told Marjolaine her -mother had some special reason for asking her. "Yes; what was it?" she -asked, hushed, and very tenderly. - -Her mother looked straight into her eyes and answered slowly, -"Jack--Sayle." - -Marjolaine recoiled in amazement. "Mother!--I don't understand!" - -"The father of the boy you have seen!" - -"How wonderful!" - -"Much more wonderful things happen every day. It's much more wonderful -that I can tell you this now: that I ever grew out of my love. For I -loved him--ah, how deeply!" - -There was a long silence. - -Here was a curious thing. If any profane eye had lighted on the -group--the young girl kneeling at Madame's feet in the green coolness of -the elm; that profane eye would have got the impression that here were a -mother and daughter closely linked in some common sorrow, and clinging -to each other for mutual consolation. In one sense that impression would -have been the right one; but in one sense only. Their thoughts were -worlds apart. Madame was remembering the days when she was Lucy Pryor, -the daughter of the vicar of Otford. The great Lord Otford was Lord of -the Manor, and his son, the Honourable John Sayle, being a delicate lad, -was studying desultorily with the Vicar. The Vicar was more interested -in butterflies than in Greek roots, and the boy and girl spent most of -their time in the great vicarage garden. Thus the lad had grown strong -and well set up. He was gazetted into the Army, and sent to America, -where the war had just broken out. There he stayed five years. Lucy -treasured the dearest memories of her playfellow, and when he came back, -a splendid lieutenant, it is hardly necessary to say that they fell -seriously in love. Their love was patent to everyone except the vicar -and the old Lord. When the latter discovered it, his fury was -indescribable. He drove the vicar out of his living, and had him -transferred to a miserable parish in the East-end of London, where there -was n't a single butterfly; and he sent his son, who had retired from -the army, on the Grand Tour. The lovers parted, vowing to be faithful; -but young Sayle very soon forgot his vows in the excitement of travel. -At Rome he met the Honourable Mabel Scott, daughter of Lord Polhousie, -and, to cut a long story short, he married her, without a thought for -poor Lucy, whom the shock nearly killed. Nor did he ever know the blow -he had inflicted, nor ever hear from her, or of her, again. She was lost -in the wilderness of London. A few years later he had succeeded his -father, and was sent as Ambassador to Vienna. In the same year his son -John--our Jack--was born, and his birth was closely followed by the -mother's death. - -Marjolaine, too, was thinking hard. All sorts of new ideas, new -conceptions, were looming on her horizon. They came as angels, -certainly, but angels with flaming swords. It seemed that great -happiness could be inextricably interwoven with great misery, so that a -simple human being could not tell where the one began and the other -ended. It seemed that a man could say one thing and mean another: that -he could look like the Archangel Michael and yet not mean what he said. -It seemed that you could be wounded in all your finest and most -sensitive nerves just for looking at a man. It seemed also, that your -pride was of no use to you whatever, but deserted you when it was most -needed, or, rather, turned against you, and helped to hurt you. This -must be enquired into. - -"Mere, cherie," she whispered. - -"What, my darling?" asked Madame, coming out of her dream. - -Marjolaine pressed her hand to her heart. There was an actual physical -pain there, as if an iron band were crushing it. "Is this--is what I -feel--love?" - -"Ah!" cried Madame, "I have betrayed myself. I did not mean you to know. -I am afraid it was going to be--love." - -"Going to be! But it is! Or else, this ache? What is it?" - -"Crush it now!" Madame was distressed. She would not allow Marjolaine's -young life to be blighted as her own had been. "Crush it now! -Fiercely! ruthlessly! and it will be nothing. You have only seen him -once--" - -"Does that make any difference?" - -What could one answer to such a question? One could only ignore it. -"You must be very brave; very determined; and put the thought of him -away." - -Marjolaine shook her head sadly. How could she put the thought of him -away? It was in her. It filled her. It was she herself. And did she -want to put it away? Would she put it away if she could? It seemed to -her that if the thought were withdrawn now, she would be left a hollow -husk of a thing, with no thought at all. - -Madame saw she had gone too far too quickly. "Dear, I know. It took me -a long time, because I had been happy so long; but at last, when your -father came, I was able to put my hand in his, and look straight into -his eyes." - -Here was a new mystery for Marjolaine. So good and beautiful a woman as -her mother could love twice, then? - -"Mother," said she, with grave enquiry, "did you love my father as much -as you had loved Jack?" - -However good and blameless we may be, it is a very uncomfortable -experience to be cross-examined by utter, single-minded innocence. - -"Listen," said Madame, "life is long, and nature merciful. I recovered -very slowly; but I tried to be brave; I tried to take an interest in the -life around me: the sordid, sunless life of the very poor, so much -sadder than my own. Then Jules Lachesnais came to live with us--with my -father and me--in order to study the English language and our political -institutions. A great friendship sprang up between us. When my father -died, Jules urged me to marry him. I was utterly alone in the world; I -felt a deep affection for him; and I consented." - -She waited for Marjolaine to say something; but Marjolaine was silent. - -"He took me to France, where you were born. We went through the horrors -of the Revolution side by side. He played an active part in those -horrible days; always on the side of justice and moderation. The aim of -his life was to see his country under a constitutional government, such -as he had learnt to admire during his stay in England. The excesses he -was forced to witness disgusted him, and he resisted them with all his -might." Madame was lost in her reminiscences. "Ah, yes! You were too -young to know; but we all ran grave risks of falling victims to the -guillotine. Your father hailed Napoleon as a deliverer; but when -Napoleon began to usurp power, he foresaw the dawning tyranny; still -more when Napoleon was made consul for life. He retired more and more -from public affairs, thereby incurring the tyrant's anger and again -endangering his life. When Napoleon was proclaimed Emperor your father -protested publicly--think of the courage! He was expelled, and he died -disappointed and heartbroken. He was a brave, true man, faithful to his -ideals. I was very proud of him; very happy and contented. And I _am_ -very happy and contented now," she added defiantly,--"or I shall be, -when I see you have won the victory!" - -But Marjolaine was merciless. This was all very well, as far as her -mother was concerned. "But what became of poor Jack?" she asked. - -"Poor Jack!" Madame laughed bitterly. "Poor Jack had married some great -lady!" - -At once poor Jack had lost all Marjolaine's sympathy. She muttered -between her teeth, "Caroline Thring." - -"I tell you," protested Madame--and perhaps she protested just a shade -too strongly--"I ceased to think of him. I forgot him." - -Marjolaine's brow was puckered in thought. Could one forget? "But, -mother," she said, very simply, "if you had forgotten him, why did you -swoon when you heard his name?" - -Down went the cloak of self-deception Madame had so carefully wrapped -round herself. She took her daughter's face in both her hands and looked -at her sadly. "Ah! my little girl is become a woman indeed! The -innocence of the dove, and the guile of the serpent!--Well! Think over -what I have told you. Come, now, cherie, you promise to fight?" - -"Yes," said Marjolaine, without conviction. - -"You promise to conquer?" - -"I promise to try." - -"At least you see there can be nothing between Lord Otford's son and my -daughter?" - -"Yes." Oh, what a hesitating yes! - -Madame folded her in her arms. "Try to lighten someone else's sorrow," -she said, kissing her tenderly, "then you will forget your own, and the -roses will bloom in your cheeks again." - -The Walk was beginning to show signs of life. The Eyesore came -slouching back, and resumed his fishing with a lack-lustre eye. The -early housekeeping having got itself done, the ladies of the Walk were -showing themselves at their windows, tending their flowers or dusting -their ornaments. Miss Ruth Pennymint came bustling out of her door, -with needlework. She looked up at the overcast sky and held up the back -of her hand. - -"Ah," said Madame, catching sight of her. "Coming into the fresh air to -work, Miss Ruth?" - -Miss Ruth was evidently not in the best of tempers. "Of course it's -going to rain," she snapped. - -"Oh, not yet," said Madame, conciliatorily. - -"Do you mind if I sew here?" said Miss Ruth. "It's so lonesome in the -house, when Barbara's locked up with that precious bird!" - -What could be the matter? The word "precious" was uttered in a manner -which conveyed an exactly opposite meaning. Madame said soothingly, -"That is so touching!" And Ruth snorted. There is no other word. She -snorted. Madame and Marjolaine glanced at each other, and both moved -towards the house. But Miss Ruth had no intention of being left alone. -"Marjory!" she called. Marjolaine came back; and Madame went into -Number Four alone. - - - - - *CHAPTER VIII* - - *CONCERNING A GREAT CONSPIRACY* - - -[Illustration: Chapter VIII headpiece] - - -Now Marjolaine did not want to talk to Miss Ruth just at that moment, -and it says much for her sweetness of character that she came back -docilely. "Marjory," said Miss Ruth, looking at her searchingly, "you -haven't had a singing-lesson this week." - -Marjolaine was confused, and a little angry. She had just exhausted the -subject with her mother, and it was too bad to be thrust into the midst -of it again by this comparative stranger. So she answered rather -coldly, "I have n't been quite myself." - -"So I saw," said Miss Ruth, examining her over her spectacles. A hot -flush rose to Marjolaine's cheeks. Had she really been wearing her -heart on her sleeve, and showing the whole Walk the state of her -feelings? She must be more careful in future. - -"Anything the matter?" asked Miss Ruth. - -Marjolaine answered hastily, "Oh, nothing. Nothing to speak of." - -"H'm," said Miss Ruth, violently biting off a cotton-end. Then she -added, "Barbara was quite upset." - -"How sweet of her!" cried Marjolaine.--Dear, sympathetic little Barbara! - -"Oh! Not so much about you," said Miss Ruth rather acidly. "But she -looks forward to sitting with you and Mr. Pringle, when you are -singing." - -"Is she so fond of music?" asked Marjolaine, glad to turn the -conversation into a less personal channel. - -"Bless your dear heart, no!" exclaimed Miss Ruth sharply. "Now, would -she sit and listen to you if she were? She does n't know one note from -another." - -It seemed to Marjolaine that the conversation was becoming rather -personal, so she held her tongue. - -But Miss Ruth evidently had something on her mind of which she was -anxious to relieve herself. - -"No, it is n't that," she said with a world of meaning which challenged -enquiry. - -Marjolaine obliged her, although she felt no interest. "What is it, -then?" - -Having succeeded in getting the question she wanted, Miss Ruth made a -feint of retreating. "Pfft!" she said, with the action of blowing some -annoying insect away, and then, cryptically, "Oh! grant me patience!" - -"Ruth!" exclaimed Marjolaine, astonished at her violence. - -"Well!" cried Ruth, still more sharply. "It seems to me the whole house -is bewitched--that ever I should say such a thing." - -Marjolaine grew more and more surprised. "Oh! I thought you were so -happy!" - -"I 'm happy enough," snapped Ruth, "because I 'm not a fool. But what -with that feller upstairs, and Barbara down, a body has no peace of her -life." - -Now, what could she mean? Of course Mr. Pringle was upstairs, and of -course Barbara was downstairs. How could that perfectly natural state -of things affect the peace of Miss Ruth's life? - -"Tell me," said Marjolaine. - -"Ha' n't you noticed anything? No. I s'pose you 're too young. Don't -know sheeps' eyes when you see 'em!" - -What on earth had sheeps' eyes come into the story for? - -"Sheeps' eyes?" Marjolaine asked, utterly puzzled. - -"'T is n't for me to say anything," Miss Ruth continued, "but with him -mooning about the house, like"--words failed her--"like I don't know -what; and her moping, like a hen with the pip, it's enough to give a -body the fantoddles--as my poor, dear mother used to say." - -[Illustration: "IT'S ENOUGH TO GIVE A BODY THE FANTODDLES, AS MY POOR -DEAR MOTHER USED TO SAY"] - -Marjolaine suddenly saw light. Here, under her very eyes, was another -romance, like her own--only, of course, on an infinitely lower plane, -because it held no thread of tragedy--and she had been blind to it. -This was lovely! But she must make sure. She turned to Miss Ruth and -asked eagerly--"Are they--are they fond of each other?" - -Ruth quite unnecessarily bit off another cotton-end. "I don't know!" -she cried crossly; but at once added, "Yes, of course they are!" - -Marjolaine was more puzzled than ever. "Then, why don't they say so?" -she asked, quite simply. - -"That's what I want to know," said Miss Ruth. - -Lovers who might be perfectly happy, kept apart for want of a word, -thought Marjolaine. How wicked, and how silly! "You should speak to Mr. -Basil," she said, with all the gravity of her nineteen years and of her -bitter experience. - -"Me!" cried Miss Ruth. "Bless your dear heart, he 'd up and run away. -He 's that shy a body can't look at him but he wants to hide in a -cupboard. He 's got it into his silly head he is n't good enough. As -if anybody'd notice his shoulder!" - -"Perhaps," said Marjolaine, pensively, "if Barbara showed him she liked -him--Why don't you speak to her? Sympathetically." - -"So I did, just now. Told her she was an idiot. What did she do? She -burst out crying, and went and shut herself up with that parrot." - -"Ah!" sighed Marjolaine, with a pathetic look at the Gazebo, where she -had been so happy so short a time, so long ago, "Ah, yes! The old love!" -How well she understood! - -"Old frying-pan!" cried Ruth. - -"Ruth!" exclaimed Marjolaine, deeply shocked. "The poor parrot." - -"Oh, that bird!--Marjory!" said Ruth, firmly, as if the time had come to -utter a bitter but necessary truth at all costs, "Marjory, there are -times when I 'd give anybody a two-penny bit to wring that bird's neck!" - -But Marjolaine had not been listening to her. The mention of the parrot -had set her thoughts working; her face suddenly lighted up with the -inspired look of one who has just conceived an epoch-making idea. -"Ruth!" she cried, running up to her. - -Ruth naturally thought she was shocked. "Well, I don't care! I mean it. -If it was n't for that bird--" - -But Marjolaine had snatched Ruth's needlework away and was trying to -drag her from the seat by both hands. "I was n't thinking of the bird! -Yes, I was thinking of the bird, but I was n't thinking what you thought -I was thinking. Oh! what nonsense you make me talk!" - -"Whatever's got into the child's head?" cried Miss Ruth, swept off her -feet. - -"Come!" insisted Marjolaine. "Quick! Come, and tell Barbara I want -her." - -"What do you want her for?" asked Miss Ruth, struggling. - -"I must n't tell you yet, she may refuse." - -"Bless us and save us!" cried Miss Ruth, now on her feet, and struck by -the change in Marjolaine's appearance, "now your cheeks are glowing -again!" - -"Maman said they would!" laughed Marjolaine. Positively, for the moment -she had forgotten her sorrows. "Come along!" - -"Wait! My mouth 's full of pins!" - -Seeing the two ladies under the tree, Sir Peter Antrobus had come out, -anxious for a little conversation. He was much disappointed when he -observed they were leaving the lawn. - -"Going in, just as I'm coming out?" said he, reproachfully. - -"Yes," laughed Marjolaine on the top step, and looking up at the -threatening sky, "like the little people in the weather cottages: you -come out for the rain; and I go in for the sunshine." Which, of course -was extremely inaccurate, but the correct statement would have spoiled -her meaning entirely. - -"How are the peas coming on, Admiral?" asked Miss Ruth, for the sake of -politeness. - -Sir Peter's temper was already ruffled by the disappointment of his -sociable intentions. Now he burst out, "How the doose can they come on, -Ma'am, when that everlasting cat roots 'em up every night?" - -I am sorry to say, Miss Ruth laughed as he disappeared into the house. -The Admiral came towards Sempronius, who was now wide awake and watching -the Eyesore's float with lively interest; he shook his fist at him--I -mean the Admiral shook his fist at the cat--with comic fury, and found -himself shaking his fist at Lord Otford, who had just turned the corner. - -"Shaking your fist at me, Peter?" asked Lord Otford, with a grim laugh. - -"Hulloa, Otford!" cried the Admiral, feeling rather foolish. - -Moreover, he was not particularly pleased to see Otford at that precise -moment. Only half-an-hour ago he had surprised Marjolaine's confidence. -He had not had time to think the matter over and make up his mind, and -now that he found himself without warning face to face with Jack's -father, he was torn between two conflicting emotions. On the one hand -he felt he ought to tell Otford about Jack and Marjolaine. That was his -plain duty; but it was one of those forms of duty which everybody tries -to find some plausible excuse for evading. He had surprised -Marjolaine's confidence: she had not given it voluntarily. On the other -hand he suspected that Jack's breach of faith in not coming near the -Walk for a whole week was due to some interference on the part of his -father, and he was so fond of Marjolaine, and so jealous of the status -of the Walk, that he resented such interference even before he knew -whether Otford had interfered. His keen eye saw, even while they were -shaking hands, that there was something on his friend's mind. - -"How are you?" asked Lord Otford, perfunctorily. "Have you a moment to -spare?" - -"All day; thanks to this confounded government," growled the Admiral. - -Lord Otford plunged into the thick of his business at once. "I am in -great trouble," he blurted out, in the tone of a man who expects -sympathy. - -He didn't get it. "Damme! you're in trouble once a week!" said the -Admiral. "Here! Come into the Gazebo." - -Lord Otford started at the word. "The Gazebo?--Ha! Very appropriate!" - -"Eh? Why?" asked Sir Peter, sitting on the seat in the summer-house and -making room for his friend beside him. Lord Otford produced a crumpled -letter from his pocket. "Here! Read this!" said he, thrusting it under -Sir Peter's nose. - -"Can't," said the latter, curtly, "haven't my spy-glass on me!" - -"Well, listen." Lord Otford read the letter aloud, with ill-suppressed -fury.--"'My lord--It is my painful duty to inform your Lordship that -your Lordship's son, the Hon. John Sayle, is carrying on a clandestine -love-affair with Mademoiselle Marjolaine Lachesnais, of Pomander -Walk--'" - -The Admiral had grown purple in the face. "Belay, there!" he roared. - -Lord Otford took no notice, but went on reading: "'Yesterday they were -together for an hour in the Gazebo--'" - -The Admiral would have no more of it. "When did you get that, and who -sent it?" he roared. The fact that the information was true was quite -outweighed by the implication that an inhabitant of the Walk could have -been guilty of the lowest form of treachery. - -"It's signed, 'Your true Friend and Well-wisher,'" said Lord Otford, -"and I had it on Sunday." - -The Admiral could hardly speak. "Do you mean to say that damned, -anonymous, Sabbath-breaking rag came from Pomander Walk?" - -"I presume so." - -"Who sent it?" cried the Admiral, jumping up and walking to and fro in a -towering rage. "Show me the white-livered scoundrel, and by Jehoshaphat! -I 'll break every bone in his body!" He turned sharply towards Otford. -"Is it a man's writing, or a woman's?" - -"It's vague: might be anybody's." - -The Admiral was passing the houses of the Walk in review. "Can't be -Sternroyd--Brooke-Hoskyn--Pringle--We 're none of us anonymous -slanderers." His eye fell on the Eyesore with momentary suspicion. -"Was it the Eyesore?" - -"The Eyesore?" repeated Lord Otford, not understanding. - -"That scare-crow, fishing. No; of course not. He does n't know you, and -I don't believe he can write.--But, what of it, Jack? You're not -worried by that rubbish! Why, it's a pack o' lies!" (Oh, Admiral, -Admiral!) Lord Otford tried to speak. "Don't interrupt!--I'm here all -the time. Nothing happens in Pomander Walk that I don't know. Don't -interrupt!--I was here when Jack came last Saturday. He went back in -his boat before you could say 'Jack Robinson,' because Madame swooned!" - -He wiped his brow, and had the grace to add "Lord, forgive me!" as a -silent prayer. After all, he had told no lie. He had only omitted to -say how long Jack had been there before he saw him. And as he did n't -know, what could he have said? - -Otford found his opportunity of speaking at last. "Now, perhaps you 'll -allow me to say it's all true," he shouted. - -The Admiral shouted louder. "Do you take this blackguard's word rather -than mine?" he roared, pointing to the letter. It was intolerable he -should be doubted, even if he were not telling the whole truth. - -"You confounded old porcupine," Lord Otford roared back at him, "Jack 's -owned up to the whole thing!" - -"What!" yelled the Admiral. "Don't shout like that! D' ye want the -whole Walk to hear?--Sit down. Tell me again: quietly!" - -"When I 'd read this letter, I taxed him with it," said Lord Otford, -"and he owned up. He came here last Saturday: met the damned little -French gel--" - -"Jack!" roared the Admiral, flaring up. - -"I'll withdraw 'damned.' Sat an hour in this infernal -what-d'-ye-call-it, and thinks he 's in love with her." Sir Peter was -about to speak. "Don't interrupt!--You know the Sayles when their blood -'s up. My blood was up. Jack's confounded blood was up. You can -imagine the scene we had. He's as pig-headed and obstinate as--as--" - -"As his father," put in Sir Peter. - -"Don't interrupt!" roared Lord Otford. "He's thrown over Caroline -Thring--won't hear of her." Sir Peter chuckled. "The utmost I could -get out of him was that he 'd wait a week to make sure of what he calls -his mind." - -"Aha!" said Sir Peter, delighted. - -"Mind! Puppy! All the week he's gone about like a bear with a sore -head! Had the impudence to refuse to speak to me! This morning he had -the impudence to speak! And what d' ye think he said?" - -"Serves ye right, whatever it was!" cried Sir Peter. - -Lord Otford didn't hear him. "He said, 'The week 's up, and I 'm going -to Pomander Walk!'" - -"Good lad!" roared Sir Peter, slapping his thigh, and breaking into a -loud guffaw. - -"What!" shouted Lord Otford, jumping up. "You're mad! Think of what's -at stake! Ninety-thousand acres!--For the daughter of a Frenchwoman from -the Lord knows where. Who was the gel's father?--Or, rather, who was -n't?" - -"Jack!" roared the Admiral, in a burst of fury, jumping up in his turn -and facing Otford. - -"I withdraw!" cried Otford. "But think of it!" He was looking at the -Walk. In the grey light of the coming shower the houses were certainly -not seen at their best. "Think of it!" he said with a sweep of his cane -condemning the whole Walk to instant annihilation. "An Otford taking -his wife from these--these--Almshouses!" - -The Admiral was livid--apoplectic--hysterical. Words failed him. His -voice failed him. He could only gasp, "Almshouses!--Pomander -Walk!--Almshouses!" - -Lord Otford was alarmed at the effect his words had produced. "There! -there!" he cried, almost conciliatorily, "I withdraw 'Almshouses!'" - -"Withdraw more, sir!" said the Admiral, and for all his almost grotesque -rage, there was a ring in his voice which compelled respect. "How dare -you come here, abusing the sweetest, brightest, most winsome--" - -"I believe you 're in love with her yourself!" cried Otford. - -"And, damme, why not?--Take care how you talk about innocent ladies you -'ve never set eyes on!" - -"That's it!" cried Otford, glad to get on safer ground. "That's why I -'m here. You are to present me to this Madame--whatever her confounded -name is." - -"In your present temper?" roared Sir Peter, whose own temper was at -boiling point. "I'll walk the plank first!" He pointed to Madame's -house. "There's her house: the white paint. Go and pay your respects." -He came close up to Otford, and spoke straight into his face. "Your -respects, Jack! You 'll find you have to!" - -"I can't force my way into the house, unaccompanied, and you know it!" - -"Then stay away, and be hanged!" - -Lord Otford was nonplussed. He caught sight of the Gazebo. "I 'll stay -here," he said doggedly, sitting down like a man who means never to move -again, "and if Jack shows his nose--!" - -The Admiral had begun to stride towards his house. He came back and put -his red face round the side of the Gazebo. "I shall be watching, sir!" -this with blood-curdling calmness. "And if you dare raise a disturbance, -I 'll--" he could not think of anything bad enough. "I 'll--damme! I -'ll set the Eyesore at you!" - -He stumped off towards his home again, while Lord Otford sank back in -his seat, folded his arms, and said, "Ha!" with grim determination. - -At that moment Jack came hurrying round the corner and ran straight into -the Admiral's arms. At that fateful moment also Madame must needs come -out of her house. Fortunately she was preoccupied and did not see the -frantic pantomime with which Sir Peter tried to explain to Jack that his -father was hidden in the Gazebo. Madame called, "Marjolaine! -Marjolaine!" As we know, Marjolaine was with the Misses Pennymint, and -Madame received no answer. Lord Otford heard her from his hiding-place. -"Aha!" he said to himself, "the mother!" and he sat up at attention. - -"Gobblessmysoul!" whispered the Admiral, hoarsely. "The father here, -and the mother there! Jack! Get away!" - -Madame had turned to her house and was calling her old servant. -"Nanette!" - -Jack refused to budge. What he said I do not know; but Sir Peter grew -still more frantic. Nanette appeared at the upstairs window. "Quoi, -Madame?" - -"I 'll be hanged if I stir!" said Jack. - -"Ou est donc Mademoiselle?" said Madame. - -"Je ne sais pas, Madame." Madame went back into her little garden, and -looked into the ground-floor window. - -"Come inside, then!" said Sir Peter to Jack. But Jack saw the Eyesore, -who was placidly fishing, and a broad grin spread all over his face. -"No! Better idea!" he chuckled. He imparted the idea to the horrified -Admiral in a whisper. - -Madame spoke to Nanette again. "Vite! Allez voir si son chapeau est -dans sa chambre!" - -Nanette disappeared from the window, and Madame stood impatiently -looking up at it awaiting her return. - -Whatever Jack had said to the Admiral was of such a nature as to fill -that ancient salt with horror. He threw up his arms, cried, "I wash my -hands of it!" and dashed into his house. Jack quickly said something to -the Eyesore which caused the latter to fling his rod down with alacrity, -and, amazing to relate, he and Jack hurried round the corner and out of -sight together. - -Nanette reappeared with a huge Leghorn straw hat. "Oui, Madame, voila -le chapeau de Mademoiselle." Then, pointing to the Gazebo, -"Mademoiselle doit etre au pavillon." - -"Non," said Madame, "je viens de l'appeler." But a sudden suspicion -flashed across her mind. Could Marjolaine be there with Jack, and afraid -to show herself? "Serait-il possible?"--she cried, and came hurriedly -towards the summer-house. - -Lord Otford had heard her conversation with Nanette, and had risen; so -that Madame found herself abruptly face to face with her faithless -lover. - - - - - *CHAPTER IX* - - *IN WHICH OLD LOVERS MEET, AND THE - CONSPIRACY COMES TO A HEAD* - - -[Illustration: Chapter IX headpiece] - - -Madame knew him at a glance. To some extent she had been prepared for -his coming by Jack's previous visit. As Jack was acquainted with Sir -Peter, it was quite likely Lord Otford was also, and nothing was more -probable than that he should come to look up his old friend. -Nevertheless this sudden confrontation startled her, and she could not -suppress a little "Oh!" of surprise. - -Lord Otford, on his part, was too much occupied with his own anger, his -outraged dignity, to pay more than very superficial attention to her. -Moreover she had changed a great deal more than he. He had left her, a -mere strip of a girl, and now she was a dignified and very beautiful -woman. He was not thinking of Lucy Pryor at all at the moment, while -her thoughts, if the truth must be told, were full of the Jack Sayle of -old days. So they began their little duel with unequal weapons. Madame -was absolutely self-possessed: Otford could not suppress a certain -amount of nervousness in the presence of this calm and stately lady who -was so utterly different from anything he had expected. However, he -pulled himself together and put on his grandest and most overwhelming -manner. - -"I am the trespasser," he said, with a condescending bow, in answer to -her startled cry. She inclined her head very slightly, and turned to go. - -"May I detain you a moment?" said he, quickly. - -She stopped and half turned towards him. "I am at a loss--" she said -coldly, with raised eyebrows. - -He explained. "I heard you calling your daughter." Then, very stiffly, -"I presume you are Madame--ah--" he made pretence to consult the -anonymous letter; this haughty person should know she was not of -sufficient importance for him even to remember her name, "Madame -Lachesnais." - -Madame bowed almost imperceptibly and something very like a mischievous -smile lurked in the corners of her lips. - -"I am Lord Otford--" he gave his name quite simply, as a gentleman -should, yet he managed to convey that it was a great name and that he -expected the announcement of it to make its effect. - -Madame made a slight movement with her hand as if she were brushing away -something of no moment whatever; as if she declined to receive a name -which could have no importance for her; as if she did n't care whether -his name were Otford or Snooks. This disconcerted him. It was a new -experience, and it was unpleasant. For the sake of something to say he -pointed to the seat under the tree. "Ah--pray be seated." Madame saw -the advantage she had already gained. She spoke as she might have -addressed a poor beetle: "What you have to say can be of so little -consequence--" - -Lord Otford flushed angrily. Here was he, a great nobleman with a -grievance, and this totally insignificant woman was treating him like a -child! He spoke with some warmth. "I beg your pardon! What I have to -say is of the utmost consequence." - -"I shall be surprised," said Madame--"and I am waiting." - -Lord Otford was still fuming. Her manner was really most disconcerting. -"You--you make it somewhat difficult, ma'am," he blustered. - -Nothing could stir her calmness. "Then why give yourself the trouble?" -she said; and again moved as if to go. - -"Pray wait!" cried he, hastily. All the fine outworks of sarcasm and -irony which he had elaborately prepared against this meeting had -vanished before the icy blast of her imperturbable coolness. He was -hot; he was uncomfortable. He could only stammer, "The fact is--my -foolish son--" - -Madame held up a delicate hand and stopped him. "Ah!" she said, with a -well-bred rebuke of his excitement, "I can spare you any further -discomfort. Your son forced his acquaintance on my daughter in my -absence a week ago. Be assured we are willing to overlook his lack of -manners. The circumstance need not be further alluded to." - -Here was a nice thing! In those few words she had turned the tables on -him. Instead of metaphorically grovelling in the dust at his feet and -entreating his pardon, she had become the accuser, and he now found -himself forced to speak on the defensive. - -"It must be alluded to! I must explain!" he cried. - -"No explanation or apology is required," she went on implacably, "since -under no circumstances shall we allow the acquaintance to continue." - -Was he on his head or his heels? These were practically the very words -he had meant to use. This was the shell he had meant to hurl into the -enemy's camp, and here it was, exploding under his own feet! - -"But my son has pledged his word to come again, and--" - -Again she interrupted him. "Make yourself easy on that score," she -said; and now there was even a note of contempt in her voice. "He has -broken his word." - -"That was my doing!" cried Lord Otford, almost apologetically. "I -persuaded him to wait a week. I regret to say he means to come to-day." - -"Well," answered Madame, with the utmost indifference, "Pomander Walk is -public, and we cannot prevent him." - -"But he 'll see your daughter!" - -"I think not. Unless he breaks into the house." - -"Upon my soul, I believe he 'll go that length!" What Lord Otford had -intended should be a menace, turned to an appeal. "That is where I ask -for your co-operation." - -Madame looked him up and down with indignant protest. Really, he might -have been poor Snooks. "Pardon me," she said, "not co-operation." She -drew herself up and her eyes flashed. "But I shall defend my own." - -She laid a peculiar stress on the word "defend," which arrested his -attention. - -"'Defend'?" said he, with amazement. "What do you mean?" - -She looked him straight in the face, and spoke with intense feeling. "I -mean, that no member of your family is likely to cross my threshold." - -There was something so threatening, so avenging in her voice, that he -fell back a pace and said, hushed, "You speak as though you nursed a -grudge against my family!" - -Madame smiled scornfully. "Oh! no grudge whatever." Then she added -slowly and very quietly, "But I remember!" - -"Remember what?" cried he, more and more bewildered. - -For a moment she did not answer. Then she turned to him and spoke. "Am -I so changed--Jack Sayle?" - -He stared. "Indeed, ma'am--" then suddenly he saw and remembered. He -could only exclaim, "Good God!" - -"Are you still puzzled?" she asked, with that mysterious smile of hers. - -"Lucy!" - -"Lucy Pryor," she assented. She bowed and turned away. - -Lord Otford was stunned. "No--no," he stammered. "Stop!--this alters -the case entirely!" - -She turned on him with raised eyebrows. "How?" - -He was entirely at a loss. He had spoken on the spur of the moment. -All the past had suddenly risen up before him, all his youth had come -flooding back. The birds sang in the old vicarage garden; his -experiences, his worldly honours, sank from him, and he was a lad again, -deeply in love; and here stood his first sweetheart--his only -sweetheart--the woman who meant youth and spring-time and all the ideals -of boyhood. He bowed his head. "I--I don't know. I am stunned!--After -all these years!" - -She was merciless. Also she was on her guard. She must not let herself -be defeated by sentimentality. As she looked at him and saw him -standing humbled before her, a still small voice in her heart cried out -in pity. That would never do. He had blighted her youth; his son had -hurt Marjolaine. She must remember. She must be firm. So she silenced -the appealing voice and spoke with an admirable assumption of lightness. - -"Why, what does it all amount to? After all these years Lord Otford -meets Madame Lachesnais. These are not the Jack Sayle and the Lucy Pryor -who loved, years ago. He does not meet a broken-hearted woman pining -for her lost girlhood, but," she drew herself up and her voice grew -firmer, "but one who has been a happy wife, and a happy mother--and a -mother who will defend her daughter's happiness." Then the mockery -returned, intensified. "So there is no cause for such a tragic -countenance, my lord!" - -Otford winced. He was humbled; he was angry with himself, and angry -with her. "Madam," said he, "I am well rebuked. I wish you a very good -day!" He made her a very low bow, and turned on his heel. Inwardly he -was raging, and when, at the corner of the Walk, he ran right into the -Eyesore who was innocently returning to his fishing, that unfortunate -creature received the full force of his anger in a muttered but none the -less hearty curse. - -Madame stood where he had left her. Now that he was gone, she realised -how the meeting had shaken her. Twenty years, and more, and he was -scarcely changed! The same lithe figure; the same handsome face, with -the bold eyes; the same appeal which had drawn her heart to him in the -old days. The long interval which had elapsed, with all its varied -adventures; her marriage, the Revolution, her husband's death, seemed -merely an episode. She and Jack had parted yesterday, so it seemed, and -to-day they had met again. She was dismayed at realising the sway he -still held. The same sway as ever. It took the strength out of her -limbs. She leaned against the summer-house in distress. This was -unbearable. She must fight. The old pain must not be allowed to seize -her in its grip. Jack Sayle was dead, buried and forgotten, and she -would not let him come to life again. - -Meanwhile Mrs. Poskett had opened her upstairs window and was leaning -out. The sky was very threatening; there was going to be a -thunder-storm; and there crouched that foolish cat of hers, oblivious of -the weather, watching the Eyesore. "Sempronius!" she called. "Puss! -Puss! Puss!" - -But Sempronius had more urgent business than attending to his mistress's -voice. A miracle had happened: the Eyesore had caught a fish! -Sempronius looked on with eager interest as the Eyesore disengaged his -prey from the hook and laid it on the grass. Yes; he would go in, said -Sempronius to himself, making sure that the downstairs window of his -mistress's house was open; he would go in presently, when he had safely -stalked that fish. Not before. - -The Admiral also had seen the skies darken. It was time to take in the -thrush. So he leant out of his upstairs window to unhook the osier -cage. His window and Mrs. Poskett's were so close together -that--well--the Admiral and the widow could, at a pinch, have kissed if -they had been so minded. But nothing was further from, the Admiral's -thoughts. - -"Sempronius!" screamed Mrs. Poskett. - -"Ah!" chuckled the Admiral, "it's no use calling him, ma'am. He 's got -his eye on the fish!" - -"You don't mean to say the Eyesore's caught one!" cried Mrs. Poskett. - -The Admiral laughed as he looked at the Eyesore. Laughed more than the -occasion seemed to justify. "Ay, ay! he's wonderfully patient and -persistent!" - -The widow's face, as he leant out to see the fish, was very near the -Admiral's. - -"Astonishing what patience and persistence 'll do, Admiral," said she, -coquettishly. She withdrew quickly and closed her window. - -The Admiral was puzzled. What did she mean? But he shook off his -forebodings. He turned to where the Eyesore, buried more than usual in -his horrible old hat, was putting on new bait, and gave a low whistle. -The Eyesore signalled to him to be quiet and at that moment he became -aware of Madame, who was moving away from the Gazebo. "Gobblessmysoul! -Madame!" he muttered to himself with inexplicable confusion, and hastily -withdrew out of sight with his thrush. - -Miss Barbara Pennymint came hopping down her steps, followed by -Marjolaine. Madame had recovered her self-possession. "Ah!" she cried, -seeing Marjolaine, "I was a little alarmed about you. Did you not hear -me call?" - -"No, Maman cherie." - -Madame turned to Barbara. "Don't let her stay out if it rains." And -with a pleasant nod to the two girls she moved into her house. She had -need to be alone. - -Marjolaine and Barbara locked their arms round each others' waists and -came across the lawn. - -Barbara turned up her pretty nose. "The Eyesore looks more revolting -than ever!" - -"Dreadful," assented Marjolaine, with a shudder. At this instant the -Eyesore caught another fish! and Marjolaine gave a cry of surprise. -Sempronius sat and watched. - -"What's he doing now?" asked Barbara, in a whisper. - -Marjolaine looked. Then she covered Barbara's eyes with her hand. -"Don't look!" and in a tragic whisper, "He's putting on a worm!" - -"Oh!" cried Barbara, with a shiver of disgust. They came down to the -elm. - -"It was impossible," said Marjolaine, "to talk in Ruth's presence, with -Doctor Johnson screaming in the next room." - -"Dearest," answered Barbara confidentially, "shall I confess that -sometimes that bird--" she broke off--"but no! it were disloyal. Only, -if Charles had given me a lock of his hair, perhaps it would have made -less noise. Yet, now I think of it, that is a selfish wish, for he had -been scalped." - -"How dreadful!" cried Marjolaine. But she was full of her great idea, -and went on at once. "Barbara, were you very much in love?" - -Barbara's face grew very serious. "Dearest," she said reproachfully, -"is that quite a delicate question?" - -"Well," said Marjolaine, "I mean, are you still as much in love as -ever?" - -Barbara avoided her eyes. But she spoke with almost exaggerated -feeling. "Dearest! Do you think love can change?" - -Marjolaine thought a moment. I suppose she was consulting her own -heart. Then she spoke very firmly. "No! I don't think so!" - -"And do I not hear the sound of my darling's voice every time Doctor -Johnson yells? Is not that enough to keep the flame of love alive even -in the ashes of a heart however dead? Oh! if only that innocent fowl -had been present when Charles used different language!" - -"But did he?" asked Marjolaine innocently. - -"I sometimes wonder," answered Barbara, deep in thought. - -Marjolaine felt she had said a tactless thing. She must try to soften -it. "Perhaps the loss of his hair--" she began. - -"Yes," assented Barbara. "But he concealed the honourable scar under a -lovely wig." She turned her eyes fondly to Basil's window from which -the familiar passage from the slow movement of the Kreutzer Sonata came -throbbing. "And--oh, dearest!--can any physical infirmity affect true -love?" she cried rapturously. - -At last she was coming to the point Marjolaine had been insidiously -leading up to. Marjolaine watched her closely. "I suppose not." - -"I am quite sure it cannot!" cried Barbara with a burst of enthusiasm. - -Marjolaine took both Barbara's hands in hers and forced her to face her. -She spoke very earnestly. "Barbara, why are you quite sure?" - -Barbara instantly fell into a pretty state of confusion. "Dearest!--how -searching you are!" - -"Tell me!" insisted Marjolaine, "why are you quite sure?" - -Barbara looked this way and that; toyed with the lace on Marjolaine's -sleeve; and said quite irrelevantly, "Dearest--did your mother match -those lovely silks?" - -Marjolaine was not to be put off. "Mr. Basil plays the violin -beautifully," she said. - -Barbara fluttered exactly like a sparrow taking a sand-bath. She hopped -all round Marjolaine. "Oh, dearest!" she chirped. "Oh, you wicked -dearest! You have guessed my secret!" Then, if I may put it that way, -she perched on Marjolaine's finger and pecked her on each cheek. - -"I was sure before I guessed!" laughed Marjolaine. - -The Eyesore caught another fish; and, what was equally astonishing, for -the first time in his life, he moved from his accustomed place and came -nearer the girls. - -Barbara put on as solemn a face as she could contrive. "Promise you -will never tell a living soul?" - -"Look!" cried Marjolaine, "the Eyesore's caught another fish!" - -"Poor darling!" exclaimed Barbara. - -Marjolaine gave her a horrified look. "You are not in love with the -Eyesore, too!" - -"I meant the fish!" explained Barbara, "to be drawn out of the watery -element." - -"Ah," said Marjolaine, wisely, "that comes of a fondness for worms." - -"Worms!" repeated Barbara, lugubriously. "Ah, worms!--I shall let the -worm i' the bud feed on my damaged cheek." - -The two were now sitting on the bench under the elm, and twittering -together like little love-birds. The Eyesore came nearer. - -"Barbara," said Marjolaine, with meaning, "suppose Mr. Basil's cheek is -being fed on, too?" - -"Dearest, that is impossible," said Barbara. - -Marjolaine sat nearer and spoke more confidentially. "Suppose I know it -is?" - -Barbara pushed her away and looked at her. "You wonderful child!" Then -she added, shortly, "Then why does n't he speak?" - -"Suppose he 's too shy?" - -Barbara appealed to the universe. "Oh! are n't men silly?"--She -luxuriated in her sense of tragedy. "Then we must look and long." - -Marjolaine breathed into her ear, "But suppose a third person spoke!" - -"You!" exclaimed Barbara, with delight. - -"No!" said Marjolaine, rather shocked. "That would not do at all. I -could n't." The Eyesore was very near them. Marjolaine saw him. -"Hush!" she whispered, and drew Barbara away. "Hush! The Eyesore!" - -Barbara looked from her to the Eyesore and back again with bewilderment. -"You don't mean he 's to be Cupid's messenger!" - -Marjolaine laughed. "No, no. Listen." She sank her voice to a -mysterious whisper. In spite of her own sorrow she was enjoying herself -immensely. "Listen, and try not to scream." Barbara quivered with -excitement. Marjolaine went on, "Doctor Johnson talks, does n't he?" - -Barbara looked at her in amazement. "Doctor John--?" - -"And he learns easily?" - -"But what--?" - -"Let Basil hear it from him!" said Marjolaine, triumphantly. - -"Hear what?" almost screamed Barbara. - -Marjolaine laughingly took her by the shoulders and shook her. "Oh, you -little goose!" she cried. Then she added, very deliberately and -clearly, "Teach the parrot to say--'Barbara loves you!'" - -Barbara did, I assure you, leap into the air, and Marjolaine had her -hand over her mouth only just in time to stifle a scream which would -have brought the entire Walk to its doors and windows. - -But Barbara was seized with instant remorse. - -She put Marjolaine away from her with a gesture which would have done -credit to Mrs. Siddons. She spoke in a tone of mingled heroism and -reproach: "Charles's only gift, turned to such uses! Oh, Marjory!" - -Marjolaine was quite unabashed. "Would n't Charles be pleased to know -his gift had been the means of making you happy?" - -"From what I can remember of him, I should say decidedly not," said -Barbara, rather snappishly. - -The Eyesore was now close to the Gazebo. - -"Look!" cried Marjolaine. "The Eyesore's invading the whole Walk!" - -But little Barbara cared. Also her momentary remorse had entirely -vanished. If she had been on a tree she would have hopped from branch -to branch. As it was she hopped all across the lawn, clapping her hands -and twittering. "Oh! I can't bother about him!" she said. "Let him -invade! Oh! it's such a splendid idea! Oh! you 're such a clever girl! -Oh! my goodness, what shall I do?" - -Marjolaine was anxious on the Eyesore's account. Were the Admiral to -see him, there would be a terrible outburst of anger. "I'll speak to -him," she said, summoning all her courage, "I 'll save him from Sir -Peter's wrath!" - -"No! no!" cried Barbara; "stick to business! Tell me more about the -bird!" - -"Stand by me!" entreated Marjolaine. "Hold my hand!" - -"I daren't! I'm frightened!" cried Barbara, "and--and--and I want to -begin teaching the bird!" - -"Treacherous Barbara!" cried Marjolaine. But before the words were out -of her mouth Barbara had scuttled into the house and slammed the door. - -And before Marjolaine had recovered from that shock the Eyesore had -hurled his hat and smock into the Gazebo, and she was in Jack's arms. - - - - - *CHAPTER X* - - *IN WHICH THE MYSTERIOUS LADY REAPPEARS - AND HELPS JACK TO VANISH* - - -[Illustration: Chapter X headpiece] - - -Marjolaine was bewildered, overjoyed, indignant, and too breathless even -to cry out. Jack swept her off her feet. "Come into the Gazebo!" he -cried, and before she could remember where she was, she was on the seat -in the summer-house and Jack had hold of both her hands and was saying -impetuously, "Marjory, I love you!" - -She sank into his arms, utterly overwhelmed. It was as if a cyclone had -whirled her away. "I love you, I love you, little Marjory," he was -murmuring into her ear. "I loved you the first moment I saw you under -the elm!" - -Under the elm! Her memory came rushing back. She broke away from him -and her eyes flashed indignantly. "How dare you!" she cried. "Oh! how -dare you! I didn't know what I was doing. Go away! You broke your -word! You never came!" - -"I come now!" he answered, with a fine air of injured innocence. - -"In a horrible disguise!" said she, looking with disgust at the -Eyesore's hat and smock lying disconsolately where Jack had thrown them, -"and too late!" She broke into sobs. "I have promised not to love you!" - -"Whom have you promised?" - -"My dear, dear Mother." - -She had stood up and was trying to look like a dutiful daughter. But he -made that very difficult by seizing her hand and drawing her down to his -side again. - -"Don't you love me?" said he. - -"If I did, I 've promised not to!" she replied firmly. - -"What 's the use of that, if you do?" Jack did n't know it, but he had -put a question which undermined all first principles. - -"_I_ keep my word!" she replied, with great dignity. It was no answer -to his question, but it saved her for the moment. The implied reproach -turned his position and forced him to be on the defensive. - -"So do I!" he said, quite boldly and unabashed: so unabashed that she -could only stare at him in amazement and cry "Oh!" - -"Differently," he explained. "I told my father; and I promised I 'd -stay away a week, to make sure. I 've made sure, and I 've come. Is n't -that keeping my word?" - -Marjolaine was shaken, and he had stated his case so cunningly that she -could not, on the spur of the moment, put her finger on the weak -point--the truth being, that she did not want to. "It seems so, when -you tell it, but--" - -"Do they want you to marry somebody else?" said he. - -"No." - -"Well, they want me to!" and he added with modest but conscious virtue, -"but I refused." - -"That's it!" cried Marjolaine, remembering all the Admiral had -innocently let drop. "You 're a great man; by-and-by you 'll live in -marble halls; and you never said a word about it!" - -"Hang it all!" cried Jack, protesting with all his might, "I told you my -name! I can't go about shouting I 'm a lord's son!" - -But Marjolaine had not done. "And you 're going to marry a great lady -who owns half a county and goes about doing good. The Hon--Hon--" what -a nuisance it was that she could not keep her sobs down!--"the -Honourable Caroline Thring!--Oh, does n't it sound horrid!" - -"I 'm not going to marry her!" Jack almost shouted. "And she does n't -want to marry me; and there 's only one girl in the world for me, and -that's you--you--you!" - -He tried to draw her down again, but she resisted. Caroline Thring was -not the only obstacle. "Jack," she said, with tragic solemnity, "I 'm -the one girl in the world you can never marry!" - -Her manner was so intense, that even Jack was, for the moment, awed. -"You speak as if you meant it!" he said, staring at her in astonishment. - -"I do!" Her manner grew more and more solemn. She looked like the -Tragic Muse, and I am not sure she did not rather enjoy the impression -she was creating. Her voice rang deep and hollow. "We are fated to -part." - -"Why on earth--?" cried Jack, almost frightened. - -"It is a terrible secret," she answered. Then she suddenly sat down -beside him. "Sit close! Oh, closer!" Now she was a child again, -revelling in a good story. "Listen. Your father loved my mother when -they were both very young--" - -"No!" cried Jack. - -"'M. And he went on loving her for years and years and years! And then -he left her for ever, just as you left me last Saturday; and went and -married the Honourable Caroline Thring." - -"What!" cried Jack, utterly bewildered. - -"Oh, well--same thing--some other great lady." - -Jack gave a low whistle. - -"And Maman 's never forgotten it, just as I never should. And that's -why she fainted when she heard your name." - -Jack whistled again. Then a new idea occurred to him. "That accounts -for my father's temper just now." - -Marjolaine was puzzled. "Just now?" she asked. - -"When I landed, he was here with your mother." - -"Oh!" cried Marjolaine, astonished and frightened. - -"Sir Peter told me," Jack went on. "It was a close shave. I had just -time to borrow the fisherman's coat and hat. When my father came away -he was perfectly furious. He did n't know me, but he swore at me -horribly." - -Marjolaine nodded wisely. "You see! Maman had been telling him exactly -what she thought about him. Oh, Jack, they are enemies and we must part -forever." She stood up and resumed her finest tragedy-queen manner. -"It is what they call a blood-feud!" - -Jack sprang to his feet. "Then we must marry to wipe it out!" he cried. -"Marjory, we must fly!" - -"Fly--?" - -"Fly!--run away!--elope!" - -"Leave Maman--!" cried Marjolaine, very properly shocked. "I could n't -do it!" - -"You 'd have to if we were married," he argued. - -"Afterwards, perhaps," answered the ever-ready Marjolaine, "but not -before." - -Jack thought he would clinch the matter. "We'll be married at once. -Then it'll be afterwards." - -"No, no, no!!" cried Marjory. "It's no use." She turned to him with -pretty appeal. "Don't ask me, will you?" Then she went on in a tone of -middle-aged common-sense: "Besides, we can't be married at once. In -your stupid England, the parson has to ask the congregation three times -whether they have any objection. As if they could n't make up their -minds the first time! and as if it was any of their business at all!" - -"Banns--! Hang!" said Jack, scratching his head. That helped him. "I -know!" he cried, "Licence!" - -"Don't ask me!" She caressed his coat-collar coaxingly. "You won't ask -me, will you? What is a licence?" - -"Well," said Jack, with an air of profound knowledge and experience, -"You go to a Bishop, and he gives you a document, and then you go to the -nearest church--and--and--there you are!" - -"I don't believe you're there at all," she said, pouting. She turned -away in despair. "Oh, it's no use!" But she turned back with new hope. -"Do you know any Bishops?" - -"Not one," said Jack, ruefully. - -Her head rested on his shoulder, and made a prop for his. "It's -discouraging!" they both sighed, sinking on the seat in the Gazebo, and -looking as woe-begone as the Babes in the Wood. - -Down came the rain, pattering on the leaves of the elm. The Eyesore had -come back, hatless and in his shirt sleeves, and had executed a brief -dance of delight over the three fish Jack had caught for him. He had -only got back just in time to avert disaster, for Sempronius, seeing the -Walk deserted, had been on the very point of raiding the fish. The -Eyesore sat on his box and resumed his melancholy sport, resigned to the -loss of his outer garment, oblivious of the rain, but keeping a wary eye -on the cat. - -The Reverend Doctor Sternroyd emerged from his house. I say emerged, -because it was a slow and difficult manoeuvre. He was loaded as usual. -His green umbrella occupied his right arm, while his left encircled a -number of ancient tomes; so he had to come through his door sideways and -down his steps backwards, and the gate presented a new and complicated -problem. Then he discovered it was raining, and, of course, he tried to -open his umbrella while he was still under the arch of his gate. At the -best of times the opening of that umbrella was a matter of diplomacy and -patience. You did not open it just when you wanted to, but only when it -was willing. In a wind it would open itself and turn itself inside out; -but in a shower it needed coaxing. Its ribs all went in different -directions and it required the greatest skill to induce anything -approaching unanimity. The chances were that by the time you had got the -umbrella open, the shower had ceased and the sun was shining; and as it -was just as difficult to close it, you probably gave up, and resigned -yourself to looking eccentric. - -The Reverend Doctor got inextricably mixed up with his books, his -half-open umbrella, and the gate. He felt he must use strong language. -"Tut, tut!" said he. - -Marjolaine heard him. "Hush!" she whispered, warningly. - -"Why?" asked Jack. - -She peeped round the edge of the Gazebo. "The Reverend Doctor Sternroyd -coming out of his gate!" - -"A parson?" Jack almost shouted. - -"Yes." - -"By George!" exclaimed Jack; and while she was gasping, "What are you -going to do?" he had rushed across the lawn and slapped the Doctor on -the back. - -"Dear me!" cried the startled Doctor, as his books slid from under his -arm and the umbrella opened with a report like a gun's. "Dear me! Tut, -tut!" - -"I beg your pardon, Doctor," Jack apologised, picking up the books and -helping the parson through the gate. Then he seized him by the sleeve -and dragged him bewildered and protesting to the Gazebo. - -[Illustration: HE SEIZED HIM BY THE SLEEVE, AND DRAGGED HIM, BEWILDERED -AND PROTESTING, TO THE GAZEBO] - -"Sempronius! Sempronius!" cried Mrs. Poskett, appearing at her window. -"Come in, you bad cat, you 'll get wet through!" - -But Sempronius was deeply engrossed, and Mrs. Poskett closed her window -in despair. - -Meanwhile Jack had forced the outraged Doctor down on to the seat, -Marjolaine had relieved him of the umbrella, and Jack had tossed his -books into a corner. - -"Sit down, Doctor," said Jack, "here, between us." - -"But, my dear young friends--" began the Doctor, protestingly. - -"You'd get your feet wet, Sir, and catch cold. My name's Jack Sayle." - -Marjolaine interrupted him. "His name is the Honourable John Sayle," -she explained with great importance, "and he's the only son of Lord -Otford." - -She had touched a spring. If there was one thing the Doctor was more -familiar with than another, it was heraldry. He started off like an -alarm clock, and all the exclamations and gesticulations of the -impatient lovers were incapable of stopping him. - -[Illustration: HE STARTED OFF LIKE AN ALARM CLOCK] - -"Otford: or, on a fesse azure between in chief, a sinister arm embowed -and couped at the shoulder fessewise vested of the second, holding in -the hand proper a martel gules, and in base a cerf regardant passant -vert, three martlets of the first. Crest: out of a crest-coronet a -blasted oak--" - -"Oh!" cried Marjory, stopping her ears. - -"--motto: Sayle and Return." - -"Doctor!" shouted Jack, shaking him, "when you 've quite done, we want -to get married; and you 've got to get a licence!" - -The boy and girl were leaning excitedly across him. They spoke -alternately and breathlessly. - -"Because," said Marjolaine, "we 're in a dreadful hurry and Maman won't -hear of it--" - -"And my father wants me to marry Caroline Thring, which is wicked--" - -"And of course I'll never do it, and it's no use asking me, but--" - -"We're going to be married anyhow, and if you don't help we shall run -away--" - -"And you would n't like to be the cause of our doing that, would you?" -She had slipped to her knees. - -"And we love each other--" Jack also was on his knees, facing her. - -"Very, very dearly!" they both concluded. And to the horror of the -learned Doctor, their lips met. - -He rose, indignant. "I am deeply shocked. Profoundly surprised. I -shall make a point of informing Madame Lachesnais and his lordship." - -Jack leapt to his feet. "Oh, I say, you can't, you know!" he protested, -"because we took you into our confidence!" - -The antiquary was as nearly angry as he had ever been in his life. "I -did not ask for your confidence!" he exclaimed. - -"Well--you've got it!" said Jack, conclusively. - -Marjolaine laid her hand on the Doctor's arm and looked up at him with -great pathetic eyes--the stricken deer. "And, Doctor, dear--think of -when you were young!" - -"Eh?" said the Doctor, startled. "How did you know?--And if I did run -away with my blessed Araminta--" - -"Ah!--there, you see!" cried Jack, delighted. - -"--I had every excuse," protested the Doctor. "My blessed Araminta was -deeply interested in flint arrowheads." - -"And I 'm sure you were very, very happy," said Marjolaine, laying her -hand on his shoulder. - -The Doctor looked at her. The Doctor dug his snuff-box out of a remote -waistcoat-pocket. The Doctor took snuff. The Doctor drew out a great, -brown handkerchief. The Doctor blew his nose. His snuff was very -strong, and had made his eyes water. Finally he said, "Ah, my child, -she has been dead thirty years!" - -"Dear Doctor Sternroyd!" murmured Marjolaine. - -He pulled himself together. "But this is so harebrained! A special -licence is not so easily had. His Grace, the Archbishop of -Canterbury--" - -"Oh, my goodness! an _Arch_bishop!"--cried Marjolaine, deeply impressed. - -"The Archbishop of Canterbury requires excellent reasons." - -"I 've told you," cried Jack impatiently, "we love each other!" - -The antiquary could not help smiling. "I fear that would hardly satisfy -his Grace!" - -"Wicked old gentleman!" pouted Marjolaine. - -"We'll find a reason," said Jack, confidently; and after a moment's -thought: "Here you are! My leave 's up in a month: only just time for -the honeymoon!" - -"H'm!" said the Antiquary. "Even that does not seem to me sufficiently -convincing." - -He had risen, and now turned and looked at them as they sat watching him -eagerly and hopefully. They looked so charming, so young, so innocent, -and so deeply in love with each other, that the Doctor was touched. For -years he had been buried in his musty old books, and suddenly he was -confronted with life, with youth starting out on its career. It would -be good to make these children happy. - -"I have an idea," he said, with a humorous twinkle. "The Archbishop, -who is a very good friend of mine, is forming a collection of -antiquities. Now--" he searched in all his pockets--"I found a rare -Elizabethan tobacco-pipe here the other day." He produced it and -polished it carefully on his sleeve. Marjolaine, I am sorry to say, hid -her face in her handkerchief, and was attacked by a fit of coughing -which shook her from head to foot. "Perhaps," continued the Doctor, -eyeing the pipe with fond regret, "perhaps if I were to offer that to -his Grace, it might oil the wheels." He sighed deeply. "Yes!--It will -be a wrench, but I 'll take it to Lambeth to-morrow--Ah, no! To-morrow -is Sunday!" - -"Dash it!" cried Jack, petulantly. "What a way Sunday has of coming in -the wrong part of the week!" - -"Hush!" said Doctor Sternroyd, reprovingly, "Monday, then." - -"And you'll marry us the same day?" asked Jack. - -"No, no!" replied the Doctor. "The day after, perhaps." - -Marjolaine ticked the days off on her fingers. -"Saturday--Sunday--Monday--Tuesday--! Four whole days!--" - -The lovers looked at each other disconsolately, and together sighed, -"Oh, dear!" - -"And what am I to do till then?" cried Jack. "I daren't go home. My -father 's quite capable of having me kidnapped and sent to my ship!" - -Marjolaine clung to him with a little cry. "Oh, Jack!" - -He turned to Doctor Sternroyd with sudden decision. "Doctor! You must -give me a bed." - -The Doctor failed to understand. "Give you--?" - -"A bed." - -Doctor Sternroyd threw up his hands in protest. "And incur your noble -father's displeasure?" - -"On the contrary. He'd be deeply grateful to you for showing me -hospitality." - -"Ah," sighed the Antiquary, shaking his head, "you'll find me poor -company, young gentleman." - -"It's only for two days," said Jack lightly. "We can play chess." He -turned to Marjolaine. "And every evening we'll meet in the Gazebo. I 'll -whistle so:--" he executed a fragment which Marjolaine repeated, more or -less--"and you 'll come out." - -Doctor Sternroyd was troubled; but this young man had a way with him. -"Ah, well!" he sighed, sitting down and motioning them to sit beside -him. "Now you must give me full particulars: your names, ages, -professions, if any--" - -"How exciting!" cried Marjolaine, clapping her hands. - -The Antiquary picked up one of the books. "'_Epicteti quae supersunt -Dissertationes_,'" he read, affectionately. "A pencil! Now, Mr. -Sayle--" So they bent their heads together, and were very busy, giving -the dates of birthdays, and all their histories, which Doctor Sternroyd -meticulously entered on the fly-leaf of the tome. - -The rain had ceased. The sun was again shining brightly, turning the -rain-drops on the foliage of the elm into diamonds. The air sparkled, -newly washed. The Eyesore in his corner had, for some time, been -showing symptoms of discomfort. With appetites refreshed by the shower, -the fish were displaying a lively interest in his bait. To be sure, -they refused to swallow his hook; but they nibbled at his worm with -great zest, and kept his float bobbing up and down in a manner which -made it impossible for him to attend to anything else. Yet out of the -corner of his eye he could see Sempronius, stretched at full length, -creeping slowly, almost imperceptibly, but with deadly determination, -towards the fish Jack had caught. - -The Eyesore said "Hoo!" but Sempronius took no notice. The Eyesore -kicked; but Sempronius was out of reach. The Eyesore shook his -disengaged fist; but Sempronius only smiled. - -As the sun came out, out came Mr. Jerome Brooke-Hoskyn, as resplendent -as the sun. He was truly wonderful to behold: his magnificent beaver -hat poised at an improbable angle, his buckles glittering, and his vast -person imposing under the countless capes of his driving-coat. Just as -he had swaggered to his gate he was evidently arrested by a voice from -the upper chamber. - -[Illustration: AS THE SUN CAME OUT, OUT CAME MR. JEROME BROOKE-HOSKYN, -AS RESPLENDENT AS THE SUN] - -"Eh? What?" he asked peevishly, making an ear-trumpet of his hand. -"Late home?--Yes; I told you I should be. Pitt is to speak, and when -once he's on his legs the Lord only knows when he'll stop. But I have -the doorkey. What? Yes, I did! I found the keyhole easily enough, but -the key was twisted. What?" He grew purple with indignation. -"Sober!--Reely, Selina!--" The Walk was astir, as he observed to his -confusion. "Dammit, Ma'am, they'll hear you howling all round the -Walk!" He turned just in time to face Miss Ruth, who had come sailing -up to him. Everybody was either at their open windows, or had come out -to taste the fresh air. The Admiral was fussing with his sweet peas; -Jim was helping him; Mrs. Poskett was watching the Admiral; Basil -Pringle was struggling with the Kreutzer Sonata; Barbara had left Doctor -Johnson and was leaning out of the lower window; listening to Basil. -Even the servants were out and about; only Madame was missing. - -Miss Ruth addressed Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn. "Off to the whirl of fashion so -early?" - -Brooke-Hoskyn did his best to edge her away from the house while he -nervously pulled on his buckskin gloves. "H'm, it is a long way to the -City," he explained, "my good friends, the Goldsmiths' Company--a -banquet to the Chinese Ambassador--my shay is waiting round the corner." - -Miss Ruth tried to pass him. "I'll go and sit with your wife," she -said, with the kindest intention. - -"On no account!" he answered, not too politely, interposing his solid -bulk between her and the gate. Seeing her bridle, he corrected himself. -"Most kind of you, to be sure; but--ah--not just now. I left the dear -soul asleep, and dreaming of the angels." - -Miss Ruth turned away disappointed, and her attention was at once -diverted by the Eyesore's extraordinary antics. Sempronius, that -intelligent cat, clearly comprehending that the fisherman could not -leave his rod, was preparing to spring at the fish. - -"Oh! look at the Eyesore!" cried Miss Ruth. - -"Haha!" laughed Brooke-Hoskyn. "Sempronius is about to snatch his fish! -Observe his antics! Reely, most amusing!" - -In the Gazebo the lovers and Doctor Sternroyd had finished, and the -Doctor closed the book with a sigh of satisfaction. "There! I think -that's all!" They prepared to leave their shelter, unconscious of the -excitement in the Walk. - -But at that moment the Eyesore, driven to desperation by the threatened -loss of his fish, sprang at Sempronius with uncontrollable fury, seized -the animal by the scruff of his neck, and--_horresco referens_--hurled -him into the river. Then he picked up his fish, and bolted. - -[Illustration: THE EYESORE SEIZED THE ANIMAL BY THE SCRUFF OF HIS NECK, -AND HURLED HIM INTO THE RIVER] - -Ruth screamed; Barbara screamed; Nanette and Jane screamed; while Mrs. -Poskett waved her arms and screamed louder than any of them: -"Sempronius!--Save him!" - -Ruth turned wildly to Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn. "Save him!" - -"In these clothes!" cried he, much offended. - -They had all forgotten the hero of the Battle of Copenhagen. To fling -his coat to Jim; to seize the Eyesore's landing-net; to stumble down the -steps to the river; and to capture the squirming cat, was the work of a -moment. - -Mrs. Poskett had rushed out of her house just in time to meet the -Admiral bringing the drenched cat up the steps again. In his open -window Basil struck up "See the Conquering Hero Comes," and, while -Marjolaine, Jack and Doctor Sternroyd stood petrified in the Gazebo, all -the rest of the Walk formed an admiring circle round the Admiral and -Mrs. Poskett. - -"Your cat, Ma'am," said Sir Peter with the simple dignity becoming to -the doer of a great deed, as he handed her the struggling and yelling -animal. - -And what do you think she did? She tossed--tossed!--the cat to Jim, -and, exclaiming, "My hero! My preserver!" flung her arms round the -Admiral's neck and kissed him on both cheeks. - -And at that precise moment, while the whole Walk had gone frenzied with -excitement, while the Admiral was standing stupefied, only able to -ejaculate "Gobblessmysoul!" a great many times in succession; at that -precise moment the gaunt Mysterious Lady entered the Walk, followed by -her gigantic footman. Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn fled. - -"'Ware pirate, Admiral!" shouted Jim. All the women, except Mrs. -Poskett, who was lying half unconscious in the Admiral's arms, rushed to -their doors, where they stood, watching further developments. - -The Mysterious Lady had her _face-a-main_ up, and her disgusted stare -wandered from the excited women to the dishevelled group formed by Mrs. -Poskett and the Admiral. "What horrible people!" she exclaimed. She -bore down on Sir Peter, who had managed to shake off his fair burden, -and stood panting with suppressed fury. - -"You dreadful old man--" she began. - -"Eh?" cried the Admiral. "You, again! Don't you speak to me! I'm -dangerous!" - -The three conspirators in the Gazebo were listening with all their ears. - -"You don't know whom you're addressing!" said the Lady, haughtily. - -"I don't, and I don't want to," answered the Admiral, mopping his brow. - -The Lady drew herself up to her full height. "I am Caroline Thring!" - -"Caroline--!" ejaculated the Admiral, who had caught sight of Marjolaine -and Jack. But the situation was too much for him, and he sank -speechless on the seat under the elm. - -"Caroline! Oh, my stars!" cried Jack. - -Fortunately the Honourable Caroline Thring turned away from the Gazebo -and examined the houses, where all the women were standing on guard, -prepared to defend the doors with their lives. Marjolaine had time to -gather her wits. She saw the Eyesore's smock and hat lying where Jack -had thrown them. "Put those on! Quick!" she cried. - -"Where is the girl with the curls?" asked Caroline, turning fiercely on -Sir Peter. - -"I--I--I--don't know," he stammered. - -"In the summer-house, no doubt," said she, beginning to advance towards -it. - -"She 's coming!" whispered Jack, who was not nearly ready. Then, to -Doctor Sternroyd, who was standing first on one leg and then on the -other and alternately opening and shutting his umbrella in his helpless -bewilderment, "Doctor! Lie! Lie, as you never lied before in your -life!" - -But Sir Peter had jumped up, and was barring Caroline's way. "You -mustn't go there!--You can't go there!--You shan't go there!" - -Caroline gave him a look and brushed him away with a contemptuous motion -of her _face-a-main_. "Stand aside, intoxicated person!" - -"Intoxicated!--Me!" screamed the Admiral, sinking back on the seat. - -Caroline found herself face to face with Doctor Sternroyd, whom -Marjolaine had thrust forward, just as you throw your wife or your child -to the wolves when you are sleighing in Siberia. "A clergyman!" she -cried, examining him with surprise. - -"A humble clerk in holy orders, Ma'am," stammered the Antiquary. - -Now Caroline saw Marjolaine with difficulty supporting a decrepit old -man in a very bad hat and a very dirty smock. Really quite a touching -picture. - -"Who is this?" she asked, almost mollified. - -"A poor man, your Ladyship," said Marjolaine, with a pretty curtsey. -"I'm teaching him his letters, your Ladyship." Another curtsey. Then -she had an inspiration. She pointed to Doctor Sternroyd. "And this -kind clergyman is going to give him some soup, your ladyship." When she -had completed her third curtsey, she turned to Jack. "Come, good man. -Lean on me." - -Caroline was much moved. "I'm glad my first visit bore such good -fruit," she said patronisingly. Then seeing with what extreme -difficulty the poor old man walked, and not to be outdone by a mere chit -of a girl, she said to Jack, "Give me your other arm." And so Jack was -slowly escorted towards Doctor Sternroyd's house, while the Walk looked -on and admired. - -The Walk was puzzled. Here was the Eyesore, suddenly grown very old, -being led into one of their houses, and the Admiral uttered no protest! -As a matter of fact the Admiral was too much occupied in mastering his -desire to laugh, to move from his seat. The rest of the Walk felt that -Caroline was the common enemy, and even the Eyesore sank into secondary -importance. - -For all but Basil. Basil, who had watched the entire adventure from his -window, nearly spoilt the whole thing. He had seen the Eyesore run -away--yet here was the Eyesore--! - -"But the Eyesore ran away! Who's--?" he shouted. - -Sir Peter recovered breath enough to gasp, "Hold your tongue!" - -"Well, but, Doctor Sternroyd--" protested Basil. - -"Hold your silly tongue, sir!" cried the Doctor to Basil's infinite -amazement. - -Jack disappeared into the Antiquary's house and the Antiquary himself -stood at the door waving his umbrella like a sword. Caroline turned to -Marjolaine. "You're a good little girl," she said, kindly. "Here's a -six-penny bit." Marjolaine, quite equal to the occasion, received it -with a fourth curtsey, and a modest "Thank you, my Lady." - -I think Caroline had some idea of following into Doctor Sternroyd's -house to see that her ancient _protege_ was well bestowed, but just as -she got to the gate the Doctor slammed the door violently in her face; -and the whole Walk took its cue from him, so that as Caroline passed -along the Walk haughtily tossing her head, every window was closed with -a bang, and every door was slammed with a bang, bang, bang, bang, bang! - -And Marjolaine and the Admiral sat under the tree and shouted with -laughter! - - - - - *CHAPTER XI* - - *POMANDER WALK TAKES A DISH OF TEA* - - -[Illustration: Chapter XI headpiece] - - -The Walk had got through Sunday as best it could. It had gone to -church; it had read good books; the Admiral had carefully laid "Hervey's -Meditations among the Tombs" open on his knees, and his bandana over his -head, and had tried to sleep his Sunday sleep. But it was only a fitful -slumber. Too many things had happened and were happening in the Walk. -There was Jack, concealed in Doctor Sternroyd's house, for one. What -did that mean? Sir Peter had called on Doctor Sternroyd, but the latter -stood in his doorway with the door only ajar, and would not allow him to -cross the threshold. He had kept a wary eye on the Walk and he was sure -Jack and Marjolaine had not met. He himself had sat under the elm to an -unconscionable hour, and had made it impossible for the lovers to meet. -He would not betray them, but on the other hand there should be no -underhand goings on. He had tried to intercept Marjolaine and talk to -her like the Dutch uncle he had alluded to, but she laughed in his face, -and ran away. But that was not all that troubled him. He had -undoubtedly been embraced, in the presence of the whole Walk, by Mrs. -Poskett. There was no blinking that fact; and he felt that his -neighbours, with gross unfairness, put the blame on him. After the -morning service, Miss Ruth Pennymint, who had gone to church alone, -refused to walk home with him for the first time in his experience, and -only gave a very lame excuse. Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn looked at him with a -disapproving eye. Mrs. Poskett had not shown herself since the awful -scene with the cat. He had instructed Jim to reconnoitre; I don't know -how Jim carried out that delicate task, but he came back to his master -with the report that Mrs. Poskett was mortal bad, to be sure. Even Basil -Pringle had been very distant with him when they met after church. - -The Admiral turned and twisted in his chair. Surely the flies were more -troublesome than usual so early in the summer. - -He was so put about that, contrary to his usual custom, he went to -church again in the evening. Madame Lachesnais was there, and to his -confusion asked him to escort her home. Marjolaine walked on in front -with Mr. Pringle and Ruth. - -Madame had noticed the curious discomfort that pervaded the Walk. She -had seen and heard nothing of yesterday's occurrences, as she had been -shut in her own little room at the back of the house, busy with her own -troubles. She took the Admiral into her confidence. Did he know what -was the matter with the Walk? It seemed as if some imp of mischief had -set everybody by the ears. She had ventured to address Doctor Sternroyd -that morning, and he had turned even paler than usual--positively -green--and had run away from her. What was the matter with Mrs. -Poskett? Why had not Barbara been to church all day? And he, himself, -why was he so silent? Why did he seem to wish to avoid her? - -The Admiral was greatly troubled. He could only stammer that he -supposed it was the change in the weather. "Well," said Madame, "I -cannot let our good friends go on like this. Why, we should be unable -to live together in the Walk, if we were not all on excellent terms with -each other." And so the next morning all the inhabitants of the Walk -received a pretty little three-cornered note, asking them to an _al -fresco_ tea-party that evening, under the elm. - -Jack had never spent such a Sunday, and privately registered a vow he -would never spend such another. Doctor Sternroyd did all his own -housekeeping; he said he would rather spend his money on a book than on -a cook. He invariably rose at six. He routed Jack out at that hour. -At half-past six he was at work in his study, even on Sundays. At nine -he made his breakfast, a thin cup of tea and a very thin rasher of -bacon. What Jack did between six and nine, I do not know. After -breakfast the Doctor went back to his study and he gave Jack his great -manuscript work on "Prehistoric Remains found in the Alluvial Deposit of -the Estuary of the Thames, together with Observations on the -Cave-dwellers of Ethiopia," to while away the time. When the Doctor -went to church he locked Jack in his room. After church he went for a -long walk and forgot all about Jack. And he had forgotten all about him -when he came back, so that Jack was forced to raise a perfect riot -before he could get released. By midday on Monday Jack had worked his -way through every edible thing in the house, and on Monday afternoon the -Doctor not only had to go and see the Archbishop of Canterbury on the -subject of the licence, but had been strictly enjoined by Jack to bring -home food. - - -Fortunately for Madame's tea-party, that Monday evening was an ideal -one. June had come and the roses in the little gardens had taken the -opportunity to burst into bloom. The elm was in its fresh summer garb. -The setting sun shone level through its leaves and turned them all to -burnished gold. It gilded the entire Walk, and set the panes in the -windows flashing and flaming; even the dirty little oil lamps were -glorified as they reflected the golden blaze. The river shimmered with -opal and amethyst; and a great barge, drifting down with the tide, might -have borne Cleopatra and all her retinue, so gorgeously was it -transfigured. - -Not all the Walk was present. The Doctor, as we have just seen, was -engaged with the Archbishop, and with his own marketing. Miss Barbara -had sent a polite excuse. Her actual words were "Miss Barbara Pennymint -presents her Compliments to Madame Lachesnais and is much obliged for -her kind invitation to tea. Miss Barbara Pennymint much regrets she -cannot avail herself of Madame Lachesnais' proffered hospitality as I am -engaged in an educational experiment." - -Mrs. Brooke-Hoskyn, of course, was absent, as usual, for purely personal -and private reasons. - -But all the others were there. Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn was resplendent in a -plum-coloured suit, of which the breeches fitted so tightly, and of -which the waist was so narrow, that he scarcely dared breathe. - -Mrs. Poskett and Ruth had put on their best gowns; the Admiral wore his -gala uniform with all his medals, and his three-cornered hat. Madame -herself was a vision of loveliness. She had discarded her half-mourning -for the occasion; but what she wore I cannot tell you, except that it -was a soft blue, and that there was graceful lace about her neck and -wrists. If you wish to see what she looked like, you have only to -examine a Book of the Modes of 1805, and you will find her there. Even -Mr. Basil Pringle was brushed. - -Nanette and Jim--Jim in his best clothes--waited on Madame's guests. -The latter were all on their best behaviour. You never saw anything -more elegant than the way Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn stuck out his little finger -as he raised his cup to his lips; you never heard prettier protests than -when Marjolaine offered Mrs. Poskett a third helping of cake. "I -couldn't! I reely and truly couldn't!--Well, since you insist!" - -But do what Madame would she could not put her guests quite at their -ease. A sort of blight brooded over their spirits. This was -particularly noticeable in their attitude towards Sir Peter. They -treated him with unaccustomed aloofness; they kept him at arm's length; -they did not respond to his sallies; with the result that his sallies -became more forced as the evening wore on. As a contrast to this gentle -gloom, Marjolaine's high spirits amazed her mother. This child, who -only last Saturday was broken-hearted, to-day was laughing and blithe, -rallying her guests, prettily playing the hostess, the only life in the -party. Madame watched her with puzzled anxiety. - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn, with the calf of his leg well displayed, and his -little finger well at right angles to his cup, bowed elegantly. "Ah, -Ladies, there is nothing so comforting as a dish of tea after dinner. -It is prodigiously soothing!" - -There seemed no appropriate rejoinder, but Mrs. Poskett exploded with -"Nothing can soothe the broken heart." She spoke into her cup, but her -eyes wandered towards the Admiral. - -Sir Peter tried to change the conversation. Also he felt it was time to -assert himself. Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn had been monopolising the notice of -the ladies far too long. - -"Hah!" he cried, "I 've always said Pomander Walk was a Haven of -Content. Look at it!" You remember that the last time he made a -similar remark everybody obediently turned at his command. Imagine his -feelings, then, when on this occasion nobody paid the slightest -attention. On the contrary, they ostentatiously turned to each other -and began spirited conversations about nothing in particular. He -repeated, "I say, look at it!" but only drew a glare from Brooke-Hoskyn. - -Marjolaine came to the rescue. She tripped up to him and put her arm -through his. "There 's something the matter with the Walk this evening, -Sir Peter. I 'm the only merry one among you!" - -Madame could not help exclaiming with grave remonstrance, "Marjolaine!" - -Marjolaine came close to her mother. "Oh, let me laugh, Maman!" She -proceeded in a whisper, "They are so droll! Sir Peter is afraid of Mrs. -Poskett; Mrs. Poskett is almost in tears; Mr. Basil is gloomy; Ruth is -in a bad temper; and Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn has n't got over Saturday's -banquet." - -"But you, Marjolaine--!" exclaimed Madame with quiet reproof. - -"You told me to fight it, Maman," said Marjolaine, with a shy laugh. -Then she ran across to Basil, who was watching the door through which -Barbara might still come. He was wondering what demon had persuaded him -to accept this invitation, which had brought him out of doors, when he -might have stayed indoors where he would at least have been under the -same roof as Barbara. - -The Admiral had bravely recovered from his rebuff. He came up to -Brooke-Hoskyn. "Well, Brooke, my boy! Did n't see you in church -yesterday. Too much turtle on Saturday--what?" and down came the flat -of his hand with a round thwack on Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn's broad back. - -To be accused of having overeaten yourself when you are suffering from a -bad headache is extremely annoying; to be slapped on the back when you -are swallowing hot tea is infuriating. Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn turned on Sir -Peter. "Nothing of the sort, sir!--I deprecate these unseemly -familiarities. I was detained from divine service because I chose to -sit at home and hold my dear Selina's hand!" And he turned his back on -Sir Peter. - -"Um," said the latter. His playful banter was certainly not being well -received. - -Mrs. Poskett looked up at Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn with melancholy eyes. "How -is your wife?" she said, "that dear, innocent lamb." - -"Gambolling, Ma'am," he answered, airily. "Figuratively speaking, Selina -is gambolling." - -"How wonderful!" exclaimed Mrs. Poskett, sympathetically. - -Basil Pringle felt that something drastic must be done if they were to -live through the evening. He addressed Marjolaine. "Miss Marjory, -won't you cheer us with a song?" - -Madame Lachesnais interposed quickly: this was putting her poor child's -courage to too severe a test. "I am sure she would prefer not to sing -this evening." - -But Marjolaine exclaimed merrily, "Oh, yes, Maman, if they would like -it!" - -Madame could only admire her indomitable pluck. "Brave child!" she -murmured. - -"Sing that pretty little thing about the blue ribbon," cried the -Admiral, and hummed the first bar. - -"Ha!" mockingly cried Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn. - -The Admiral faced him angrily: "Well, sir?" - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn eyed him calmly through his quizzing glass, and said -coldly, "What, sir?" - -Madame interposed with her most amiable smile. "Sir Peter, Mrs. -Poskett's cup is empty." - -"Is it?" growled Sir Peter, without moving. But Madame's hand was -stretched out to receive it, and he had to yield. - -"Oh hang!--Your cup, Ma'am." He almost snatched it from her. - -"How kind and gentle you are," almost sobbed Mrs. Poskett, with an -adoring glance. - -The Admiral answered her with a glare. "Kind be--" he was silenced by a -stern "Hush!" from Basil, and had to relieve his feelings by -inarticulate splutterings. - -Marjolaine stood in the centre of the circle, with her hands folded in -front of her, and sang very simply and unaffectedly: - - "Oh, dear! What can the matter be? - Dear, dear! What can the matter be? - Oh, dear! What can the matter be? - Johnny 's so long at the fair. - He promised he 'd buy me a fairing should please me, - And then for a kiss, oh! he vowed he would tease me, - He promised he 'd buy me a bunch of blue ribbons - To tie up my bonny brown hair." - - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn applauded in the grand manner with the tips of his -fingers, as if he had been at the Opera. "Brava! Brava!" he cried, -with the discrimination of a connoisseur. - -"Brava be hanged!" roared the Admiral. "Capital!" He turned to Miss -Ruth. "Where's little Miss Barbara?" - -To his consternation Miss Ruth hissed a fierce "Hsssh!" at him. - -"Well, I 'm--!" he muttered to himself. - -Marjolaine sang the second verse. You are to understand that she made a -very pleasant picture as she stood warbling the quaint old ballad with -unaffected simplicity. Jack evidently thought so, for, braving the -danger of discovery, he stood, gaunt and hungry, watching her from -behind the curtains in Doctor Sternroyd's window. Indeed, all the Walk -was affected by her charm. Heads nodded to the tune; feet kept time to -the rhythm; hearts melted--Mrs. Poskett's heart, especially. She gazed -reproachfully at the Admiral. What, indeed, could the matter be? and -why, indeed, was her Johnnie, whose name was Peter, so long at the fair? -Jim and Nanette had come into the circle, fascinated by the song. Jim -was trying to insinuate an arm round Nanette's ample waist, but only got -pinched for his pains. - - "He promised he'd buy me a basket of posies, - A garland of lilies, a garland of roses, - A little straw hat to set off the blue ribbons - That tie up my bonny brown hair. - And it's oh, dear! What can the matter be? - Dear, dear! What can the matter be? - Oh, dear! What can the matter be? - Johnny 's so long at the fair!" - - -Almost unconsciously the whole Walk drifted into the song, so that the -last lines were being sung by everybody. The Admiral, indeed, who never -knew when a song was over, went on long after everybody else had -finished. In his enthusiasm he added weird shouts to the words:--"Oh! -Damme! Ahoy! What can the matter be?" - -Mrs. Poskett burst into loud sobs. "Oh, don't!--I can't bear it!" - -Ruth turned fiercely on the Admiral. "Brute!" she cried. - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn was stopping both ears with his hands. "Mong doo! -Mong doo!" he drawled. And then in that curiously official manner he -sometimes dropped into, "Pray silence for the Admiral's song!" It was a -very irritating manner. - -Sir Peter made furiously towards him. "By Jehoshaphat--!" - -But Madame, ever alert, stopped him. She held out a full cup. "Sir -Peter," she said, with her sweetest smile, indicating Mrs. Poskett, -"take her another dish of tea." - -"Me, Ma'am!" protested the outraged Admiral; but there was no resisting -that smile, and he took it like a lamb--an angry lamb. "It's a -confounded conspiracy," he growled. He thrust the tea under Mrs. -Poskett's nose. "Your tea, Ma'am!" - -"How sweet of you!" sobbed Mrs. Poskett. - -The Admiral danced with rage. "Dash it and hang it, Ma'am, you're -crying into it!" - -Marjolaine had taken Miss Ruth aside. "Where is Barbara?" she asked. - -"It's enough to make a saint swear," answered Ruth, snappishly. "She's -been locked in with Doctor Johnson since Saturday. Locked in! Only -comes out for meals." Marjolaine laughed quietly to herself. - -Sir Peter had been moving restlessly round the Walk. He now found -himself face to face with Basil. "Pringle," he said, "can you tell me -what's come over the Walk?" - -Basil drew himself up. "The Walk has lofty ideals, sir," he said -sternly. "Perhaps you have fallen short of them." He turned away and -stalked towards Barbara's house. - -The Admiral was left speechless. He--he! Admiral Sir Peter -Antrobus--had been snubbed by Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn, by Ruth, and now by -this--this fiddler-fellow! He could only mutter, "Well!--blister my -paint--!" - -He was aroused by the booming of Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn's voice. - -"Yes, Ladies," that great man was saying, "Sherry was in fine condition -on Saturday!" - -The Admiral was not going to hoist the white flag. Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn -must be put in his proper place. "And port, too, eh, Brooke, my boy?" - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn eyed him sternly and haughtily. "My name is -Brooke-Hoskyn, sir, and I was referring to my Right Honourable friend, -Richard Brinsley Sheridan!" - -"Why couldn't you say so?" grumbled Sir Peter. - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn continued. "As I was about to say when--" he looked -contemptuously at the Admiral--"when I was interrupted--What wit! What -brilliance!" - -"Oh, do tell us!" cried Ruth. The ladies all hung on his lips. He -tasted the full flavour of popularity. He let it linger on his palate. -He was in no hurry. "In order to appreciate the point, you must -remember how sultry the weather was on Saturday." - -"Gave you a headache, what?" put in the irrepressible Admiral. - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn did his best to wither him with a look. Then he -resumed. "Brooke, says he--Brooke, my boy"--just like that--all craned -forward: they must not miss the point--"it's a very warm night." His -audience waited. Yes? The rest of the story? He looked from one to -the other a little uncomfortably. When they found nothing more was -coming they turned to each other, puzzled. Could this be all? Was their -perspicacity at fault? or where was the joke? The Admiral, bolder than -the rest, gave voice to the general feeling. "H'm. I don't see much in -that." - -[Illustration: THEN HE RESUMED. "BROOKE," SAYS HE,--"BROOKE, MY -BOY,"--JUST LIKE THAT] - -"Nobody ever suspected you of having a sense of humour," said Mr. -Brooke-Hoskyn, severely. However, he felt that his first effort had not -been the success he had hoped for, and he tried again. "Ah!"--said he, -brightening up, "and my friend, H.R.H. the P. of W.!" He uttered the -cabalistic letters with a mixture of mystery and airy familiarity. -There was an awed "Oh-h!" from all his hearers except Sir Peter. The -latter exclaimed impatiently, "Your friend who?" - -The reply came with crushing weight. "His Royal Highness the Prince of -Wales, sir!" The Admiral reeled under the shock of this broadside. - -Mrs. Poskett leant forward eagerly. "What did the dear Prince say? My -poor husband knew him well," she explained. "When Mr. Alderman Poskett -was Sheriff, the dear Prince frequently dined with the Corporation, and -many 's the time he said to Poskett, 'Mr. Sheriff, you must be -knighted,' but Poskett went and died--" - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn was annoyed. He was being interrupted, which is a -thing intolerable, and his own anecdote was being supplanted. He held -up a deprecatory hand. "It was not so much what he said," he explained, -"as his manner of saying it. Just:--'Ah, Brooke!'--but oh! the -elegance! Oh, the condescension!" - -Sir Peter broke out with, "Well, of all the--!" - -But Madame stopped him with a touch on his arm. "Do you ever make -speeches, Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn?" she asked sweetly. - -The great man looked at her with something like suspicion. For a moment -he was undeniably flustered. But he mastered himself with an effort and -replied with a fair assumption of carelessness, "Short ones, Ma'am. -Frequent, but short. I have proposed the health of many gentlemen of -distinction." - -"How clever you must be!" cried Ruth, admiringly. - -"Oh--!" protested Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn, with exquisite modesty. - -Madame pointed to the river, now gleaming in the afterglow. "How -strangely empty the Walk looks without our fisherman!" - -"I was wondering what I missed," said Basil, "of course! The Eyesore!" - -"He leaves a blank," added Ruth. - -Marjolaine laughed. "He was a sort of statue." - -Mrs. Poskett confided tearfully to her tea-cup. "The Walk is not the -Walk without him." - -Sir Peter was genuinely astonished. "Why, he tried to drown your cat, -Ma'am!" - -Madame playfully shook her finger at him, "Oh, Sir Peter! have you -driven the poor man away?" - -The Walk eyed him severely, and all cried as with one voice, "For shame, -Sir Peter!" Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn went on booming, "Shame! Shame!" all by -himself, long after the others were silent. - -The Admiral's patience was nearly exhausted. Here was Madame turning -against him now. The injustice of it infuriated him. He stamped with -rage. "But, hang it and dash it, I haven't seen him!" he roared. But -nobody believed him. All shook their heads gloomily, and said "Ah!" - - - - - *CHAPTER XII* - - *IN WHICH THE OLD CONSPIRACY IS TRIUMPHANT - AND A NEW CONSPIRACY IS HATCHED* - - -[Illustration: Chapter XII headpiece] - - -Little Miss Barbara Pennymint came flying out of her house: a little -more and she would have flown over the railings. Her cheeks were glowing -with joy, her eyes glittering with excitement. She saw nothing of the -tea-party, but dashed headlong into the midst of it as a sea-mew dashes -at a lighthouse. "Marjory! Marjory!" she cried. Then she saw all the -people staring at her, and stopped, abashed. "Oh! I had forgotten!" -she exclaimed, and spread her wings to fly back again, but Madame -stopped her. - -"A dish of tea, Miss Barbara?" - -"No!" cried Barbara, violently, but remembering her manners she -corrected herself. "Oh, no, thank you!" She hopped and skipped to -Marjolaine, who had come half-way to meet her. "Marjory," she said, -overflowing with excitement, "can I speak to you?" - -Before Marjolaine could answer, Sir Peter had borne down on them. Here, -at last, was somebody who had not snubbed him yet. "Ah, Miss Barbara," -he bellowed, with clumsy playfulness, "I didn't see you in church -yesterday!" - -As if Barbara wanted to be reminded of that! - -"Wasn't I there?" she stammered, utterly taken aback. "I don't -remember." She tried to get away, but the Admiral was inexorable. -"Come, now! Come, now! What was the text?" - -Unhappy little Barbara saw all the eyes of the Walk fixed on her. She -had to say something. "Oh! I know!" she cried at last, and proceeded -volubly, "'If any of you know of any cause or just impediment--'" - -"Barbara!" screamed Miss Ruth, indignantly, while the others laughed at -her confusion. Basil heaved a great sigh. Still thinking of the lost -one! Marjolaine came to the rescue and drew Barbara away from her -tormentor. "Come away, Babs!" She turned severely on poor Sir Peter, -"Don't worry her, Sir Peter!" - -"Try to put some sense in her, Miss Marjory," said Ruth, as the two -girls ran away, with their arms, as usual, round each others' waists. - -The Admiral was crushed. "Even Missie!" he groaned. But he saw Mr. -Brooke-Hoskyn preparing to tell another anecdote. This gave him new -courage. Putting on his courtliest manner, he exclaimed, "Well, Ladies! -To-morrow is the Fourth of June!" - -"As this is the Third," interrupted Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn, with fine -sarcasm, "you might safely have left us to infer that, sir!" - -He was standing close to Mrs. Poskett, who had not moved from her seat -under the elm. Sir Peter came and faced him, so that the poor lady found -herself, as she afterwards described it, between the upper and the -nether millstone. - -If Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn could wield sarcasm, so could Sir Peter when he was -put to it. He spoke with dangerous politeness. "But it seems necessary -to remind the bosom friend of H.R.H. the P. of W. that it is the -birthday of His Most Gracious Majesty King George the Third!--" The -shot told. For a moment Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn was silenced. Sir Peter went -on, conscious of victory, "Ladies, I warn you not to be alarmed when you -hear me fire the salute as usual!" - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn leaped--positively leaped at his opportunity. "As -usual!--Ha! That brass popgun of yours--" - -"Popgun!--" roared the Admiral, leaning across Mrs. Poskett. - -"I said popgun, sir!--has never gone off, yet!" - -Mrs. Poskett was in a dreadful flutter. She held up her cup and saucer -deprecatingly to each of the infuriated gentlemen in turn, and each -automatically seized them and rattled them in the other's face. -Jim--moved by his guilty conscience--was signalling frantically to Mr. -Brooke-Hoskyn not to betray him. - -The Admiral was purple in the face. "Because some infernal scoundrel -has always tampered with the charge!" The accumulated grievances of the -evening welled up within him. "But to-night," he went on, thrusting the -cup and saucer roughly on Mrs. Poskett and spilling the tea over her -beautiful silk gown, "to-night, I'll load it myself! and, damme! I'll -take it to bed with me!" And with that he stumped off in a rage into -his house, thrusting the innocent Basil and the terrified Jim out of his -way with horrible objurgations. - -"Now, Ladies!" said Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn, triumphantly, "you see the man's -real nature!" - -Poor Mrs. Poskett's nerves were completely shattered, and she was trying -to drink tea out of her empty cup. - -Ruth came and sat beside her. "We shall break the Admiral down, yet, my -dear. His temper is all due to conscience." - -"Alderman Poskett was just like that whenever he had sanded the sugar," -said Mrs. Poskett, tearfully. - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn was devoting himself to Madame. Jim and Nanette were -removing the tea-things into Madame's house, and that rascally Jim, who -was old enough to know better--but is anybody ever old enough to know -better?--was making the most of his chances. - -Marjolaine and Barbara had retired into the Gazebo. "Yes!" twittered -Barbara, continuing their conversation, "he's learnt it! He does -surround it with flowers of speech, but he says it quite clearly." - -"Dear Doctor Johnson!" cried Marjolaine, laughing, and clapping her -hands. - -Barbara shuddered reminiscently. "But I cannot bear his eye on me! -It's like Charles's. And he is moulting--which more than ever increases -the resemblance. Oh, Marjory, he looked at me so coldly all the time I -was teaching him!" - -"Never mind how he looked, if he'll only talk!" - -Barbara embraced her frantically. "How can I ever thank you?" - -Basil was standing by the chains that separated the Walk from the river. -The melancholy of the evening had entered his soul. Ruth came up to -him. He was an idiot, to be sure, yet her heart went out to him in -sympathy. Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn and Mrs. Poskett were thanking Madame for -her hospitality. Jack could be seen peeping impatiently out of Doctor -Sternroyd's window, or striding to and fro in the room like a caged -tiger at feeding time. - -Marjolaine whispered to Barbara. "If you are really and truly grateful, -you may be able to help me! I'll tell you a great secret." She drew -Barbara close to her. "I am to be married to-morrow!" - -Barbara screamed aloud, and all the people in the Walk turned in alarm. - -"Is anything the matter?" enquired Miss Ruth, anxiously. - -"No, no!" said Marjolaine, laughing. "Yes," she went on, when the -others had resumed their conversation, "married secretly to-morrow. -Swear you won't tell anybody if you live to be ninety!" - -"Yes! oh, yes!" cried Barbara, hopping from twig to twig. (I cannot -help it: she really was exactly like a bird!) "I mean, No! oh, no!" - -"And you must be bridesmaid!" - -Barbara's face expressed rapture. "Marjory!" And then with eager -curiosity, "Who is it?" - -"Sh!" whispered Marjolaine. She pointed to Doctor Sternroyd's house. -"There!" - -Barbara was genuinely amazed. She had heard of May and December, but -this was May of this year and December of the year-before-last. "Not -Doctor Sternroyd?" she asked aghast. - -Marjolaine burst out laughing. "No, no!" She pointed again where Jack -was standing behind the curtain, the picture of misery. "There! At the -window!" - -Barbara gazed and understood. "Oh, how lovely!" she cried, alluding to -the romance and secrecy. - -But, of course Marjolaine accepted the epithet for Jack. "Yes, is n't -he?" She drew Barbara to the elm. "We are to be married by special -licence." - -"What's that?" asked Barbara. - -"I don't know. Doctor Sternroyd's getting it. It lets you go and be -married anywhere, whenever you like." - -"Heavenly!" cried Barbara. "If Doctor Johnson teaches Basil what I 've -taught Doctor Johnson, Doctor Sternroyd shall get me a licence, too." - -"Yes," said Marjolaine, "we'll keep him busy." Then she turned to where -Basil was gloomily watching them, and called, "Mr. Basil!" - -Basil hurried forward eagerly, "Yes, Miss Marjory?" - -"Barbara is not feeling very well," said Marjolaine, sympathetically; -and immediately Barbara looked languishing and pathetic. - -"Heavens!" cried Basil in genuine alarm, "Shall I play to her?" - -"Oh, no!" cried Marjolaine, innocently, "it's not so bad as that. But -it's her evening hour with Doctor Johnson, and she does n't feel quite -equal to it." - -Ruth had overheard this last statement. "Why, bless her heart!" she -interrupted tartly, "she 's been sitting with that bird all day!" - -Barbara lifted great reproachful eyes at her. "Unkind Ruth! The lonely -bird!" - -Marjolaine went on rapidly, addressing Basil, "So she wondered whether -you would take her place for once." - -"Why, of course!" cried Basil. "With the greatest pleasure in life!" - -Barbara glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and said very -demurely, "Oh, but you don't know what you may hear." - -"Yes," exclaimed Ruth, sharply, "he swears horribly." - -"I'll soothe his savage breast!" cried Basil, enthusiastically. "I 'll -be Orpheus with his Lute! I 'll play the Kreutzer Sonata to him!" - -Barbara turned anxiously to Marjolaine: this wouldn't do at all! - -"No! no!" cried the latter, "just let him talk! Just let him talk!" - -But Basil was already inside the house. Marjolaine and Barbara retired, -giggling, into the Gazebo, where they sat and twittered mutual -confidences. Ruth joined the other ladies, who were listening to Mr. -Brooke-Hoskyn. The Admiral was leaning out of his upstair window to -take in his thrush. - -"Indeed, yes," continued Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn, "I have collected the witty -sayings of my distinguished friends. I shall make a book of them. A -small quarto. I shall call it, 'Pearls'"--he caught sight of the -Admiral--"'Pearls before Swine.'" The Admiral disappeared. Mr. -Brooke-Hoskyn proceeded, "Did I tell you my friend Sherry's bonn mott -about the weather?" - -"Yes! Oh, yes!" cried all three ladies, with alacrity, and fled from -him, leaving him abashed and rather offended. He saw Barbara in the -Gazebo, and brightened up. "Ah! but Miss Barbara was not there!" He -crossed on tip-toe, and, much to her alarm, seized her by the arm and -dragged her to the elm. "Imagine, then," he boomed, condescendingly, -while Barbara signalled in vain to Marjolaine for help, "Imagine, then, -that you are standing--ah--just where you are standing; and I am -Sheridan." Barbara had no idea of what he was talking about. Had he -suddenly gone mad? If so, was he harmless? "You remember how we -perspired on Saturday evening?" "Oh!" cried Barbara, with disgust. "I -come up to you--so." He suited the action to the word. "I place my -hand familiarly on your shoulder--so--" - -"Really!" cried Barbara, indignantly. - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn explained. "You understand: you are Sheridan--no; I -am Sheridan and you are me. And I--that is Sheridan--say to you--I -mean, me--'Brooke, my boy--'" - -Jane, Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn's pretty maid, came rushing out of the house. -She was in a flutter of excitement; also she was in a dreadful -hurry--and here was her master, talking to a lady! - -"'Brooke, my boy'"--repeated Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn, leading up to his point. - -"Master--! Master--!" whispered Jane, hoarsely. - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn waved her away impatiently. - -"'Brooke, my boy--'" he repeated for the third time. But Jane was -tugging at his coat-tails. - -"What is it?" cried Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn, peevishly. "What the devil is -it? Go away!" - -Jane clung to him like a limpet. "Master!" she cried again; and then, -putting her lips close to his ear and covering them with one hand, while -with the other she pointed frantically to the upstairs window, she -whispered a piece of news which petrified him and made his eyes start -out of his head. Then she ran back into the house as quickly as she had -come. - -"Eh? What?" he cried, in great perturbation. "There, now!--So like -Selina! Spoilt the point of my story!" He turned to the utterly -bewildered Barbara, with half a mind to continue his anecdote, but -thought better of it, and with a brusque, "Excuse me!" dashed headlong -into the house. - -Madame, who had been quietly conversing with Mrs. Poskett and Ruth, came -to Marjolaine. "I think I shall go in. Will you come, Marjolaine?" - -"Oh, Maman," pleaded Marjolaine, "I have so much to say to Barbara!" -She accompanied her mother to their gate. - -"You are so feverish--so unlike yourself--! You are not going to be -indisposed?" - -Marjolaine caught sight of Jack in the Doctor's study. "Oh, Maman!" she -cried, throwing her arms round her mother's neck and kissing her with -quite unusual ardour, "I am so well, so well!--I never was so well!" - -Madame looked at her searchingly. Could her daughter be heartless? To -be sure, she herself had besought her to forget her girlish love, but -Marjolaine had forgotten it too quickly. Madame went into her house with -an uneasy mind and a troubled countenance. - -Miss Ruth had been arguing with Mrs. Poskett. "Well," she said, -evidently alluding to the Admiral, "That's what I should do! Bring him -to his knees." - -There was a dangerous glitter in Mrs. Poskett's eyes as she replied, "I -brought Poskett to his: why should n't I bring Peter?" - -"Strike while the iron's hot. He knows we're all disappointed with him, -and he's ashamed of himself. Now's the time, when he ain't sure of -himself. Come along in. Put on your prettiest cap. I'll help you." - -Just as they were at Mrs. Poskett's gate they saw Doctor Sternroyd come -shuffling round the corner. His manner was furtive, and he was burdened -with a variety of small parcels. - -"Dear me, Doctor! How you are loaded!" cried Miss Ruth. - -The antiquary had evidently hoped to get home unnoticed. "Good evening, -Ladies!" he stammered, in confusion. "Pray excuse me if I cannot remove -my hat." - -"And not books, this time?" said Mrs. Poskett. - -"No, no, no!" cried the antiquary, looking as guilty as if he had been -caught carrying stolen goods. "Not books. Not what you might call -books. Just parcels. Simple necessaries, I assure you." He made a -wide curve in order not to come into closer contact with Ruth and Mrs. -Poskett, and they went laughing into the latter's house. But the wide -curve brought him up against Marjolaine and Barbara, who had come out of -the Gazebo. "More women!" groaned the Doctor; and before either of them -had spoken he had added hastily, "Simple necessaries, I do assure you!" - -Barbara hopped up to him eagerly. She touched all the parcels, which he -vainly tried to keep out of her reach. "Doctor," she said, eagerly, -"which is the licence?" - -The Doctor was utterly taken aback. "Eh? Oh, dear! dear! Miss -Marjory, you told her!" - -"Of course," said Marjory. "She's my dearest friend!" - -"Tut, tut!--Dear, dear!--What says the Swan of Avon? 'Who was't -betrayed the Capitol?--A woman!'" - -Jack had opened the window and now leant out and said in a ghastly -whisper, "Doctor!--For Heaven's sake look sharp with the victuals!" - -"There, there!" cried the flustered Doctor, as he shuffled on into the -house, "the cuckoo in the nest!" - -At the same instant Mr. Basil Pringle came bounding out of the Misses -Pennymint's house, shouting, "Miss Barbara!" - -Barbara leant half-swooning against Marjolaine. "Oh!--he's coming!" - -"Oh, Miss Barbara!" repeated Basil, breathlessly. - -"Has Doctor Johnson bitten you?" asked Marjolaine, mischievously. - -"Oh, that gifted bird!" exclaimed Basil, rapturously. - -"Did he speak?" asked Marjolaine, while Barbara panted expectant. - -"Speak!--Ah!--" Basil had no words. - -Doctor Sternroyd's window was violently thrown open by Jack. It was -nearly dark in the Walk, and Jack was reckless. "Marjory!" he called. -Marjory was very much startled. Anybody might come out at any moment. - -"Oh! take care!" she cried, as she ran up to within whispering distance -of him. - -Barbara, with bent head and blushing cheeks was trying to keep Basil to -the point. "What did he say, Mr. Basil?" - -"Come closer!" whispered Jack to Marjolaine, and after assuring herself -that no one was looking, she crept inside the little garden. - -Basil came impulsively towards Barbara. "Shall I tell you? Dare I tell -you?" he asked passionately, yet shyly. - -"You know best," said Barbara, making an invisible pattern on the grass -with her dainty foot. - -Basil took his courage in both hands. "He said--it was all in one -breath--He said, 'O-burn-your-lungs-and-liver-you-lubberly-son-of-a- -lop-eared-weevil-tell-Barbara-you-love-her!'" - -"Oh, Mr. Basil!" sighed Barbara, and threw herself headlong into his -arms. - -"But it's true!--It's true!" he cried enthusiastically. "Come! let me -tell you my own way!" And without more ado, he picked her up and -carried her bodily into the Gazebo. - -"It's perfectly monstrous!" Jack was explaining angrily to Marjolaine, -who was now under his window. "The old fossil's brought two eggs, a red -herring, and a pot of currant jelly!" - -"Poor Jack!" exclaimed Marjolaine sympathetically, yet with a note of -laughter in her voice. - -"Is that rations for a grown man?" asked Jack pathetically. "Says he'll -make an omelette! Two eggs! An omelette! Ho!" - -Here the Eyesore crept cautiously back to his post. He had not dared -come in broad daylight, but now that it was nearly dark he hoped he -would be unobserved. - -From the Gazebo came the voices of the other lovers in long-drawn notes. - -"My own!" said Basil, in a stupendous bass. - -"My Basil!" echoed Barbara. - -Rapture. Oblivion. An endless embrace. - -"Can't you send that object for food?" said Jack, pointing to the -Eyesore. - -"I daren't speak to him," answered Marjolaine, with a little shiver of -dislike. "He always turns out to be somebody else. Jack! if you 'll be -good, I 'll get it myself!" - -"Angel! But make haste! I'm starving!" - -"If you hear me singing, look out of the window," whispered Marjolaine, -kissing her hand to him. And with that she ran lightly into her own -house, and Jack retired to wait with what patience he could muster. - -"And now, what is the next thing to do?" asked Basil, rising and leading -Barbara towards the house. - -"We must tell Ruth," said Barbara, with a sound practical idea of -clinching the matter. There should be no mistake this time. - -"Yes! at once!" cried Basil, nobly. "Oh!" he exclaimed, with a burst of -grateful sentiment, "I 'll buy Doctor Johnson a golden chain!" - -Barbara's pretty head was reposing affectionately on his shoulder. "And -I 'll wear it for him. The dear bird." - -"The dear, dear bird!" they repeated in melodious unison. - -Not otherwise did Romeo and Juliet breathe soft nothings in the gardens -of Verona. Not otherwise did Paolo and Francesca talk exquisite -nonsense when they had very injudiciously left off reading. Not -otherwise--but why pursue the subject? You and I have been just as -happy, and just as foolish. - -Ruth brought Mrs. Poskett, resplendent in a new cap and various other -seductive devices, out of the house. Barbara fluttered to her sister. -"Dear Ruth! Come in quickly! Basil and I have such news for you!" - -Ruth saw it at a glance. At last they had shed one form of idiocy to -take on another. Now, perhaps, she would enjoy a little peace. "Very -well," she said. Then she made a low curtsey to Mrs. Poskett, and said, -meaningly, "Courage--Lady Antrobus!" - -Alas, poor Admiral! The knell of thy freedom has sounded. Shut thyself -in thy house as thou wilt: close thy shutters; make fast thy doors; yea, -train the little brass cannon on the Walk: nothing will help. Thy fair -enemy is cruising at the harbour's mouth, with pennons flaunting to the -breeze, and all her deadly armoury of sighs, tears, threats, reproaches -and languishing glances made ready for action; and nothing thou canst do -will serve. Through long years thou hast sailed light-heartedly from -many ports, leaving broken, or, at any rate, damaged hearts behind thee. -Now the Hour of Retribution has struck, and the Avenger is here. Thy -day of conquests is past, and it is thou who wilt be led captive in -chains of roses. There is none to sympathise with thee. On the -contrary, it is my firm conviction that the whole Walk will hang out -banners to celebrate thy defeat. - - - - - *CHAPTER XIII* - - *IN WHICH ADMIRAL SIR PETER ANTROBUS IS MORE THAN - EVER DETERMINED TO FIRE THE LITTLE BRASS GUN* - - -[Illustration: Chapter XIII headpiece] - - -Mrs. Poskett found herself--if you did not count the Eyesore: and nobody -ever had counted him, yet--alone in the Walk. The sun had set, and the -evening twilight itself had almost merged into night. The river gleamed -a pale green, as if it were loath to surrender the last remnant of day. -It was a propitious hour for amorous dalliance, but Mrs. Poskett felt -she had much to do ere she could hope to be engaged in any such pleasant -pastime. She sat some moments under the elm considering her position. -She was face to face with a difficult problem. Here she was, under the -elm, and there was Sir Peter, safely barricaded in his own house. That -he was not in a good humour she knew. The house looked forbidding. The -door was tightly closed. The windows were shut, and the blinds drawn. -Somewhere behind those drawn blinds the Admiral was fuming. She yearned -to hold his hand and comfort him and soothe his feelings, wounded, as -well she knew, by the sneers and open mutiny of the Walk. But how to -get at him? She could not go to his house. She could not call him. -All the conventions and proprieties rose up like an impregnable wall -against either of those courses. And even if she called him, he would -not come. On the contrary, he would retire like Hamlet to some more -remote part of his ramparts, and pretend he had n't heard her. She must -employ some stratagem. But what stratagem? Pomander Walk was not a -good nursery for stratagems, she thought, little knowing how many plots -and schemes and conspiracies had been concocted and were still seething -all around her. - -She was on the point of giving up in despair when she caught sight of -the Eyesore. She looked at his back--which was all she could see of -him--and brooded a long time. At last she rose and stole over to him on -tip-toe. She felt for a coin in the little bead-embroidered bag that -hung from her wrist. Two or three times she opened her mouth as if -about to speak, but each time she closed it again upon the unspoken -word. Finally, however, she made up her mind. - -"My good man," she said, rather condescendingly. - -The Eyesore never stirred. She might as well have addressed one of the -chain-posts. She tried again: this time a trifle more urbanely. -"Mister!--" - -A sort of wave of acknowledgment ran down the back of the Eyesore's -coat, just as a horse shivers at the touch of a fly; but that was all. -She made one more effort: now with a courteous appeal. "Sir!--You threw -Sempronius into the river on Saturday--here's a crown for you." - -I cannot explain what connection there was in her mind between the crime -and the reward, except that in some confused way she considered the -former as a sort of introduction entitling her to address him. - -The Eyesore only put his hand behind his back with the open palm upward. -When Mrs. Poskett had dropped the huge coin into it, he brought it -slowly round, bit it, spat on it, and pocketed it. But he said no word. -Mrs. Poskett proceeded hastily, indicating the Admiral's house. "Now I -want you to knock at that door." - -The Eyesore followed the direction of her finger with a bleary eye. -What! He knock at the door of his enemy and persecutor! and be captured -by him! That was her little game, was it? And she thought to lure him -to his doom with a miserable bait of five shillings. But he'd show her! -To Mrs. Poskett's amazement, alarm, and admiration, he picked up a -stone, hurled it with unerring aim at the door, and incontinently bolted -round the corner. Mrs. Poskett fled behind the elm and awaited the -upshot with a beating heart. - -Jim appeared, red-faced, at the door. He looked up and down the Walk, -but seeing it empty, muttered, "Cuss them boys!" and was turning to go -in again, when Mrs. Poskett called him. - -"Good evening, Mr. Jim," she said, in her blandest tones. - -"'Evening, mum!" answered Jim, touching his forelock. "Them boys ought -to be drownded, is what I says; and I wish I had the doing of it." - -"You have a responsible post, Mr. Jim." - -"Ay, ay, mum. Bosun o' the Admiral's gig." - -"Oh, more than that, Mr. Jim. Chief officer, and cook, and -gardener--what lovely peas!" It was much too dark to see the peas, but -she knew they grew all around Jim's heart. - -"Ah," he assented, and added with meaning, "takes a oncommon lot o' -moistenin', though." - -"It is thirsty weather, Mr. Jim." Mrs. Poskett was searching in her bag -again. - -Jim's eyes gleamed. "And a truer word you never spoke, Lady." - -"Mr. Bosun," said Mrs. Poskett, insidiously, "I want to see the -Admiral." - -Jim shook his head gloomily. "Ah! 'tis dirty weather he's makin' of it, -sure 'nough. He've a-locked hisself in by hisself if you'll believe me; -an' he's a-swearin' somethin' 'orrible for to 'ear!" - -"Mr. Bosun," said Mrs. Poskett, holding up a beautiful, bright new -crown-piece between her finger and thumb, "would five shillings quench -your thirst?" - -Jim wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Well, Lady, I can't say -but 'twould take the edge off it." - -To his disgust, Mrs. Poskett retreated a step. "But I must see Sir -Peter." - -Jim scratched his head--which was his way of expressing deep reflection. -He caught sight of the Admiral's flag hanging motionless. "I've got -it!" he cried. "Sheer off a cable's length, Lady." - -Mrs. Poskett retired to the extreme end of the Walk. Jim made a -speaking-trumpet of both hands and bellowed, "Admiral, ahoy!" - -The Admiral's window went up so suddenly, the Admiral's head shot out so -abruptly, and his voice was so fierce, that Mrs. Poskett could not -suppress a little scream. - -"D'ye want to wake the dead?" roared the Admiral. - -"Axing your pardon, Admiral--sunset." - -"What of it, you lubber?" The Admiral was quite unaware of Mrs. -Poskett's presence, or I am sure he would not have used such an -expression. - -"Shall I haul the flag down, Admiral?" asked Jim, with well-feigned -astonishment. - -You may judge of what the Admiral had gone through from the fact that -this was the first time in recorded history he had neglected to perform -this ritual. - -"On your life!" he cried, in great agitation. "I've hoisted it and -struck it with my own hands, morning and night, any time these five -years. D' ye think I'll have a lubberly son of a sea-cook like you do -it now?" - -He vanished from his window as abruptly as he had appeared. Jim hobbled -towards Mrs. Poskett. "Got him, Lady!" he chuckled. - -Mrs. Poskett handed him the coin. "Here, and thank you." - -"Thank you, mum." - -Sir Peter appeared at the door. Unfortunately he caught sight of Mrs. -Poskett. He retreated, half-closed the door, and only showed his head -through the opening. - -"Jim!" he cried. - -"Ay, ay, sir!" - -"Haul it down yourself." - -Mrs. Poskett gave a cry of disappointment. Had she spent ten shillings -in vain? - -But Jim was equal to the occasion. His voice was a beautiful blend of -pathos and wounded dignity. "No, Admiral. Not after what passed your -lips." - -"Damme! I can't leave it hoisted all night!" roared the Admiral. - -"That's as mebbe," said Jim, beginning to stump off. "Even the lubberly -son of a sea-cook 'as 'is feelin's, same as them wot's 'igher placed." -And he stumped round the corner. - -"Here! Jim!" roared the Admiral, in distress and fury. "Come back! you -mutinous scoundrel!" But Jim was gone. - -What was the Admiral to do? Was he to leave the flag up, contrary to -all precedent? That was unthinkable. On the other hand was he to offer -himself as a target for Mrs. Poskett's sarcasms? Yet again, was he to -show the white feather in the presence of the enemy? No! He'd be hanged -if he would. He slapped himself on the chest to give himself courage, -and came down the steps. "Cheer up, my hearty!" he cried; and then he -hummed what he thought was the tune of "Oh! dear! what can the matter -be?" and began hauling down the flag. - -Meanwhile Mrs. Poskett had sidled casually along the railings, as if she -were going nowhere in particular and didn't mind when she got there. But -she timed herself carefully, so that she was close to Sir Peter just as -he was entangled in the lines. - -"Admiral!" she said, very gently. - -"Ma'am?" growled he, continuing to extricate himself. - -"Why do you force me to address you?" she asked reproachfully, and with -great dignity. - -Sir Peter was taken aback. "Me! Force you! Gobblessmysoul!" he -exclaimed, "Well, I'm--" - -"For your own good," said Mrs. Poskett, solemnly. "Oh, Sir Peter, you -was King of the Walk on Friday. Now Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn will usurp that -title." - -This fetched him. He left the flag lying at the foot of the mast, and -came out into the open. "Will he so, Ma'am!" he said, fiercely. - -"So he will!" Having enticed him from behind the security of his -railings, Mrs. Poskett knew he would follow wherever she led him. She -led him at once towards the elm. - -"The Walk says you have lowered the prestige of His Majesty's Navy." - -The Admiral had indeed turned to go back; but this brought him to her -side. "Dash it and hang it, Ma'am! what do you mean?" - -"Well, you know what I mean," said Mrs. Poskett, with pretty confusion. -"The entire Walk saw you press me to your heart!" - -The Admiral was helpless. His own recollections of what had happened on -Saturday were extremely vague. What with the rescue of the cat and the -sudden appearance of Caroline Thring, together with the subsequent -escape of Jack, he had lost all sense of actualities. Moreover, it was -impossible for him to accuse Mrs. Poskett of having embraced him. A -gentleman does not do such things. So he could only stammer weakly, "I -didn't, did I?" - -Mrs. Poskett flashed at him indignantly. "The entire Walk witnessed the -outrage, and the entire Walk is indignant that nothing has come of it." - -"Gobblessmysoul!" muttered the Admiral. - -Mrs. Poskett followed up her advantage. "'Oh, how unsailor-like!'"--that -is what the Walk says: "'How unsailor-like!'" - -Imagine the stab. He, Admiral Sir Peter Antrobus, with more than forty -years of service in His Majesty's Navy to his credit; the hero of -Copenhagen; the friend of Nelson; he, who had given an eye for his -country--unsailor-like! - -He pushed his wig back and mopped his brow. "It doesn't say that!" he -murmured, horrified. - -But Mrs. Poskett was mercilessly emphatic. "It says that." Then she -steered on another tack. "I 'm only a lone widow," she said, with an -air of martyrdom. "If Alderman Poskett were alive, he 'd see you did -the right thing by his wife. But I!--I must leave my once happy home!" - -"But--dash it and hang it--!" protested Sir Peter, struggling in the web -that was being woven around him. - -"You cannot alter facts by swearing," said the widow. "Can I bear the -sneers of a Pennymint? the arched eyebrows of a Brooke-Hoskyn? I cannot. -I must let my beautiful house," with a side glance at him and -considerable stress, "my freehold house. Let it to an undesirable -tenant: a person with a mangle." - -A mangle in Pomander Walk! "Gobblessmysoul!" said the Admiral. Also he -had been set thinking. Freehold, eh? - -"To be sure, the expense of moving is nothing," proceeded Mrs. Poskett, -airily, "when one has Four-hundred a year in the Funds. But oh! my -lovely furniture will be chipped! and, oh! how shall I part from my -friends?" - -The Admiral was moved. He was undeniably moved. A freehold house, -Four-hundred a year in the Funds, and lovely furniture.--And, mind you, -the widow was buxom; he himself had described her as a "Dam fine woman." -As she stood there in tearful confusion, she looked distinctly -agreeable; plump and comfortable. To be sure, the sun had gone down. - -"But it's not so bad as that?" said the Admiral, with something -approaching sympathy. - -"It's worse!" cried Mrs. Poskett. "And that innocent cat, -Sempronius!--What will he say? He took a chill on Saturday and he's -lying before the kitchen fire wrapped up in a piece of flannel. When I -move, the change will kill him. Oh, why did n't you leave him to -drown?" she sobbed aloud. - -The Admiral was much stirred. A woman's tears always bowled him over. -He could stand anything but that. - -"Dash it and hang it, Ma'am, don't cry!" - -"It is n't as if I was older," sobbed Mrs. Poskett. "I could be much -older! But I'm young enough to have a tender heart!" She mastered -herself with an heroic effort; swallowed her sobs; drove back her tears; -and stood before him, the picture of stoic calm, of noble resignation. -"But never mind! I will be brave! You--you--shall--not--see--me--weep!" -Then she howled. - -Sir Peter was indescribably distressed. "But--Gobblessmysoul!--" he -stammered--"what am I to do with Jim, and the flagstaff, and the brass -gun, and the thrush, and the sweet peas?" and, pointing to his house, -"What am I to do with Number One?" - -Mrs. Poskett raised one tear-bedewed eye from her handkerchief. "Knock -a door through and make one house of them!" she exclaimed, as if -sweeping away an absurdity. "Oh, these paltry details!" Then she -lifted her face to his with a smile. Thus does the sun look when it -emerges from behind a rain-cloud. "Sweet peas? What could be more -appropriate? Ain't I Pamela Poskett? and ain't you Peter?" - -The tearful smile, so winsome, so appealing, was irresistible. "Damme, -you 're right!" cried the Admiral, surrendering at discretion. "You've -swept me fore and aft! You've blown me out of the sea! By George, -Ma'am, I 'll marry you if you 'll have me!" - -Once more, as when he saved her cat, Mrs. Poskett threw her comfortable -arms round Sir Peter's neck. "I 'll have you, Peter," she cried -joyfully; and she added in a tone which clinched the matter, "I've got -you!" - -There was an eloquent silence. The old elm shook its leaves with a -ripple of laughter. It had seen many things in its long life, but never -anything so epically grand as the widow's victory and the Admiral's -surrender. Troy town was besieged in vain during ten long years, and -was then only conquered by a horse. Five years Mrs. Poskett had besieged -Sir Peter and her victory was due to a cat. You seize the analogy? -When you remember, further, that Basil had been inveigled by a parrot, -you will realise the danger--or utility, according to your point of -view--of keeping domestic pets: the undoubted risk of having any -commerce with other peoples' domestic pets--especially if they are -Greeks or widows. I mean, the people. - -The Admiral was conquered, and like a gentleman, he made the best of his -defeat. That is the way to turn it into a moral victory. "I 'll haul -out the brass gun and fire it to-night!" he cried, enthusiastically. -"That'll tell the Walk!" - -"I 'll tell the Walk!" said Mrs. Poskett, masking her quite legitimate -triumph under renewed endearments. - -They say drowning men see all their past lives in a flash. As the -Admiral felt Mrs. Poskett's arms tighten round his neck, he had a -similar experience. All the eyes he had ever looked into seemed to be -gazing reproachfully at him out of the darkness; all the names he had -ever whispered seemed now to be whispering in his ear. Dolores, Inez, -Mariette, Suzette, Paquita, Frederike, Jette, Karen--I know not how many -more--like a swarm of bees they buzzed around him. Then, too, he -suddenly remembered that upstairs in his old sailor's chest; the chest -that had accompanied him all over the world, there was a splendid and -varied assortment of locks of hair: black, brown, golden, auburn, -frankly red, straw-coloured, chestnut, and one off which the dye had -faded and shown it uncompromisingly grey. He must remember to destroy -them before--well, before the door was knocked through. - -What escapes he had had! What a mercy he had not married that fiery -Spaniard; that still more blazing Brazilian; that fickle Portuguese; -that frivolous Mam'selle; that straw-coloured Dane. He began to realise -that Mrs. Poskett was, like the Walk itself, a Harbour of Refuge. Here -was no rhapsodical nonsense, but safe comfort, with a freehold house, -solid furniture, and Four-hundred a year. Almost unconsciously his arms -closed round her. She gave a great, contented sigh, as her head sank on -his shoulder. To have drawn this response from him was, indeed, -victory! I wonder what she would have done if she could have read his -thoughts, if she could have seen the long procession of seductive -females that was passing across his mental vision. I am convinced that -the prospective title would have consoled her, and that she would have -accepted his past for the sake of her future. - -They were abruptly aroused from their happiness, however. Unperceived -by them, Lord Otford had entered the Walk. He had come slowly along the -crescent, examining each house in turn, evidently trying to make up his -mind to knock at one of them. He retraced his steps and had his hand on -the handle of the Admiral's gate, when his attention was attracted by -the sound of murmuring voices. Evidently the voices of lovers. Quickly -and angrily he came down, just in time to witness the Admiral implant a -chaste but conclusive salute on Mrs. Poskett's ample brow. - -"Peter!" he cried, scandalised. - -[Illustration: "PETER!" HE CRIED, SCANDALISED] - - - - - *CHAPTER XIV* - - *IN WHICH MISS BARBARA PENNYMINT HEARS THE - NIGHTINGALE, AND THE LAMPS ARE LIGHTED* - - -[Illustration: Chapter XIV headpiece] - - -The Admiral tried to start away from Mrs. Poskett, but though her hands -slipped from his neck they clung to his arm. "Gobblessmysoul! Lord -Otford!" he cried. - -Mrs. Poskett had a delicious foretaste of future greatness. Here, at -the very threshold of her betrothal, was a real, live lord. It was well -worth all she had been through. "Present me, Peter," she whispered, -"and tell him." - -It is not so easy to tell an old friend you are going to be married, -when you yourself are old enough to know better. The Admiral made a bad -job of it. "Um--my neighbour--Mrs. Poskett--" he mumbled, weakly. - -"Widow of Alderman Poskett," she broke in. "And if Poskett had n't died -when he did--" - -The Admiral cut her short. He presented his friend to her. "Um--Lord -Otford--" then he tried bravely to explain the equivocal attitude in -which they had been discovered. "Um--I am--she is--we are--" He broke -down under Otford's eye. - -For Otford was looking at him in a confounded quizzical way, as much as -to say "Do all the neighbours in Pomander Walk come out and kiss in the -dark?" So the Admiral turned crestfallen to Mrs. Poskett, "No, hang it! -You tell him!" - -Mrs. Poskett was quite equal to the occasion. She made Lord Otford a -magnificent curtsey, just as she had curtseyed to the Lord Mayor's Lady, -years ago. "Happy to meet any friend of my future husband," she said, -with charming condescension. - -Lord Otford responded to her curtsey with an equally elaborate bow. "Am -I to understand--?" - -"Yes, Jack," interposed Sir Peter, impatiently, "understand. Understand -without further palaver." - -Lord Otford bowed again. "My felicitations," said he. Mrs. Poskett had -expected more; but Lord Otford was evidently preoccupied, and abruptly -changed the subject. "Madam, can you spare him a little while?" - -Mrs. Poskett was much put out. Was she to be thrust aside so -unceremoniously in the first flush of her triumph? She bridled, and -answered with some asperity, "I am sure no real friend of Sir Peter's -would wish to tell him anything his future wife may not hear." - -Lord Otford recognised he had made a tactical mistake. He seized one of -her plump hands, kissed it, and explained with an air of the greatest -consideration, "I assure you, Ma'am, the matter is strictly personal to -myself." - -How could any lady resist such delightful manners? Mrs. Poskett melted -at once. She shook a playful finger at him. "Naughty Lord -Otford!"--she turned to the Admiral--"Well, Peter; I 'll wait at the -gate. But not more than five minutes, mind!" And with a roguish shake -of all her curls and all her ribbons she tripped up to the Admiral's -gate, where she stood planning how his house and hers were to be turned -into one, and how the sweet pea was to be trained over both, at the same -time striving to hear as much as possible of what the two friends were -saying. - -"Peter!" exclaimed Lord Otford, as soon as she was out of earshot, "Jack -'s disappeared!" - -The Admiral's conscience smote him uneasily. He knew the rascally Jack -was in Doctor Sternroyd's house; he himself had helped to get him there; -and here was the unfortunate father, his own bosom friend, in distress. -What was he to do? Betray Jack? Impossible. No. He would see the -matter through. At any rate, he would gain time. - -"Serves you right," he growled. - -Lord Otford was deeply hurt. "Did I say, 'Serves you right,' just now?" - -"Just now?" repeated Sir Peter, not grasping his friend's meaning. Lord -Otford pointed with his gold-headed cane to where the widow was -examining the houses. - -"Otford!" cried the Admiral, angrily; but his friend interrupted him -impatiently. "Peter! He 's run away with that gel!" - -"That he has n't!" replied Sir Peter, greatly relieved at being able to -speak the truth for once. "The gel's here." - -"Fact?" asked Lord Otford. - -"Solemn," affirmed the Admiral. - -Lord Otford strode up and down in deep thought. He brought himself up -in front of the Admiral. There was evidently something more on his -mind. "Peter," he said, "do you know who her mother is?" - -Sir Peter was getting impatient. He saw all the old, narrow-minded -prejudices being trotted out once more. "You're not going to begin that -again!" he cried, angrily. - -"She's Lucy Pryor," said Lord Otford quietly. - -The Admiral stared at him. For a moment the name conveyed no meaning. -"Lucy Pryor--?" Then the meaning suddenly flashed on him, and he -gasped, "Not Lucy Pryor!" - -"Lucy Pryor!" repeated Lord Otford. "Ha!" he cried, with bitter -self-mockery, "I was telling her how impossible the marriage was--" - -"And she turned out to be Lucy Pryor!" The Admiral was so hugely -delighted that for a moment he was unable to go on. "Jack, my boy," he -roared, doubled up with laughter, "you must have felt like six-pennorth -o' ha'-pence--what?" - -"I did," answered Lord Otford, grimly; and then he added shamefacedly, -"But now I--I want to see her again. I must see her again." - -"Never know when you 've had enough, eh?" chuckled Sir Peter, wiping the -tears from his streaming eyes. - -"Laugh, you brute!" cried Lord Otford. "Laugh! Well you may. She 'll -never allow me inside her house. She was magnificent! _Patuit dea_, -Peter! She came the Goddess!" - -"What did I tell you?" laughed Sir Peter, waving his handkerchief -triumphantly. "Didn't I say--?" - -"Can't you coax her out here?" interrupted his friend. - -"Me!" cried the Admiral. "No!--I've told you: I 'll have nothing to do -with it!" - -Try how she might, Mrs. Poskett had only been able to pick up fragments -of the conversation, but those had been enough to arouse her curiosity. -Also she felt she had been standing neglected much too long. "Now, you -two," she said, coming between them, "I'm sure you 've gossiped long -enough." - -Otford turned to her. "Madam," said he, in his most winning manner, -"will you do me a great favour?"-- - -"I'm sure your lordship wouldn't ask me anything unbecoming," she -replied, with pretty modesty. - -"Will you persuade Madame Lachesnais to come out and taste the evening -air, not telling her I am here?" - -Mrs. Poskett looked at him enquiringly, and with a woman's intuition -read an affirmation in his eyes. - -"Don't do anything of the sort, Pamela!" cried the Admiral, warningly. - -She turned sharply on him. How thick-headed men were, to be sure! -"Peter, I'm ashamed of you!" Then she addressed Lord Otford, "With -great pleasure, my Lord. Me and Peter 's that happy, we want to see -everybody ditto." - -The Admiral stared from one to the other in amazement. What did she -mean? What could she mean, but one thing? "Gobblessmysoul, Jack!" he -cried at last, in utter amazement, "Is that it?" - -"That's it!" said Mrs. Poskett, with a laugh. - -"That's it!" said Lord Otford, with a melancholy smile. - -Mrs. Poskett tripped joyously to Madame's house; knocked, and was -admitted. - -The Admiral seized his friend by both hands with enthusiasm. "Here! -Come in! Come in and have a glass of port-wine!" - -"But if Madame--" began Lord Otford. - -"Come in! She won't budge from the house if she sees you here. Pamela -will warn us, when she's got her, and," ruefully, "she'll get her, fast -enough." They turned to go towards Sir Peter's house; but Lord Otford -stopped short, in surprise. - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn had opened his upstairs window and was leaning out, -fanning himself with his handkerchief. - -"Hoskyn, by all that's wonderful!" said Lord Otford, eyeing unconscious -Brooke-Hoskyn through his lorgnette. - -Sir Peter corrected him. "Brooke-Hoskyn; with a hyphen. I said you -must know him." - -"Know him!" cried Lord Otford, laughing, "Know my old butler! I should -think so!" - -"What?" asked the Admiral, not believing his ears. - -"He married my cook, Mrs. Brooke! And now he 's City toast master." - -Sir Peter gave a low whistle. "That's it, is it?" What a triumph! -"When the Walk knows that--!" - -"That's your man of fashion, is it, Peter?" laughed Lord Otford. - -But the Admiral was thinking. "No!" he cried, suddenly, "Damme! No! -he's a good fellow, and I'm not a blackguard!--Jack, follow my lead." -He made a speaking-trumpet with his hands and roared, as if Mr. -Brooke-Hoskyn had been a mile away, "Ahoy! Brooky, my boy! Here 's your -old friend, Otford." - -Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn nearly fell out of the window. - -"Glad to see you, Hoskyn," said Lord Otford, cheerfully, with an amiable -wave of his hand. - -"Oh, don't!" groaned Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn, hoarsely. "Oh, my Lord!--Not at -this moment! I ain't equal to it, your Lordship! I reely ain't!" - -"Sorry you're ill," said Lord Otford, with a pleasant laugh. "Too much -to eat, and too little to do. What you want is a family to keep you -lively!" - -"A family!" almost shrieked Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn. "Oh, my Lord!" He -disappeared abruptly from the window, and Lord Otford and the Admiral -went arm-in-arm and laughing heartily into the latter's house. - -It was now quite dark in the Walk: the translucent darkness of a perfect -June night. The stillness was so great that you could hear the river -lapping against the bank as it flowed by. Behind the tower of Chiswick -Church the sky shone pale, but, above, it melted into purple in which -the stars seemed to hang loose. Even the leaves of the elm had ceased -to whisper together and had gone to sleep. Here and there in the Walk a -faint light appeared behind drawn blinds and closed curtains. Presently -the bow window of the Misses Pennymint's house was gently opened, and -Barbara and Basil appeared. Their arms were twined round each other, -and Barbara's pretty head reposed against her lover's shoulder. Framed -in the jasmine that encircled the window, they made as touching a -picture as you could wish to see. They stood quite still, inhaling the -fragrance of the slumbering elm, and thinking thoughts unutterable. - -As they opened their window Jack opened his. He was famished, and there -was no sign of Marjolaine. Could she have forgotten him? - -"'On such a night as this--'" began Basil, in his richest and deepest -notes. - -Jack whistled a flourish very softly. - -"Hark, Basil," whispered Barbara, looking up into his eyes. "Hark! The -nightingale!" - -Jack whistled a little louder. - -"Do you think that is the nightingale, dearest?" ventured Basil. - -Jack whistled loud and impatiently. - -"At least let us make believe it is," murmured Barbara. - -Jack's whistle rose to a screech. - -"My own one!" boomed Basil, in a voice like subdued but passionate -thunder. - -Jack was just on the point of a despairing effort, when Madame's door -opened. He craned forward in the hope of seeing Marjolaine emerge, but -had to withdraw swiftly, for Mrs. Poskett came down the steps, followed -by Madame. - -"The air is so balmy, it's a pity to stay indoors," Mrs. Poskett was -saying. - -"We were just coming out," answered Madame. "Marjolaine is strangely -restless." She had come down the steps and now saw Barbara and Basil in -the window. She stopped astonished. "Ah--?--Why!--Really?--" - -"Yes!" cried Barbara, joyfully, clinging closer to Basil. "We are to be -married at once! We are going to ask Doctor Sternroyd to get us a -licence." - -"My own one!" Basil's deep diapason reverberated through the night. - -"Oh! I am so very glad!" said Madame, in her most charming manner. - -But to Basil even this gentle congratulation seemed almost like a -desecration. "Come in, my own," he throbbed, "lest the winds of heaven -visit your face too roughly." - -"Ah!" sighed Barbara. What beautiful language he used, to be sure, and -how different from Charles's. Closely linked they sank back into the -darkness of the room. - -"Well, I never!" said Mrs. Poskett, alluding to them. "I wonder who'll -be getting married next!" She and Madame came and sat under the elm. - -Marjolaine crept very cautiously down the steps. She was elaborately -concealing something in the folds of her dress. She stole along the -railings, watching her mother and Mrs. Poskett, till she got to Doctor -Sternroyd's gate. There she swiftly deposited two packages just inside -the railing. Then she joined the others, looking as innocent as a lamb. - -Mrs. Poskett said simperingly, "I wanted you to be the first to hear of -my betrothal." - -"I hope he'll make you very happy," said Madame, cordially. - -"I 'll see to that!" answered Mrs. Poskett; and her manner showed she -meant it. - -"Isn't it wonderful, Maman!" exclaimed Marjolaine. "An angel's wing has -touched Pomander Walk, and everybody's going to be married!" - -"Yes, my poor child," said Madame, and held out her hand sympathetically -to draw her daughter to her heart. But Marjolaine had turned away, and -was singing! Actually singing! - -"In Scarlet Town--" she had begun. - -"Surely, you are not going to sing!" said Madame, almost reproachfully. - -"Let her, Ma'am," said Mrs. Poskett, "'t will keep her quiet." - -So Marjolaine stood between her mother and Doctor Sternroyd's house, and -sang. - - "In Scarlet Town, where I was born - There was a fair Maid dwellin'--" - - -"Ah! these pathetic old ballads!" sighed Madame, turning to Mrs. -Poskett. - -At the first note of Marjolaine's song Jack had appeared at the window. -Marjolaine now half turned to him, and went on:-- - - "A pigeon-pie and a loaf of bread - Are just behind the railin'!" - - -The lamplighter, a wizened little man with a face like a ferret's, came -running round the corner with his short ladder over his shoulder. He put -it against the lamp-post opposite the Admiral's house, swarmed up it -like a squirrel, lighted the lamp, slid down the ladder, and ran quickly -to the lamp at Doctor Sternroyd's. - -Jack had the door ajar, and was eagerly peeping out; but in the darkness -he could see nothing. - -"The lamplighter!" exclaimed Madame Lachesnais, with some surprise. "I -thought there was a moon to-night." - -"Perhaps he's forgotten," answered Mrs. Poskett. "Anyhow, he 'll come -and put out the lights as soon as the moon rises." - -Marjolaine saw Jack's dilemma and began singing again:-- - - "All in the merry month of May - When green buds they were swellin'!" - - -The lamplighter was on his ladder lighting the Doctor's lamp. - -"I should like to congratulate the Admiral," said Madame. - -"I 'll send him out to you," answered Mrs. Poskett, eagerly. She saw -her chance of obliging Lord Otford. Madame rose with her and -accompanied her towards Sir Peter's house. Marjolaine turned towards -Jack, pointing with violent gesticulations to where the victuals lay:-- - - "You'll find the parcels where I say - By lookin' or by smellin'!" - -Then she ran into the summer-house. - -Jack caught sight of the food, and with a delighted "Ha!" crept down the -steps. Unfortunately, however, the lamplighter had heard Marjolaine's -words and followed the direction in which she had pointed. His little -ferret eyes gleamed greedily. - -Madame left Mrs. Poskett to go into the house, and turned to where she -had left her daughter, but no Marjolaine was to be seen. "Marjolaine!" -she called, anxiously. - -Marjolaine came slowly out of the Gazebo. Her hands were folded in front -of her and her eyes were cast down. She looked altogether as subdued as -a Saint in a stained-glass window. - -"Me voila, Maman," she said, demurely. - -Madame sat under the elm, a little to the right of the trunk. - -Marjolaine came and knelt at her feet and seized both her hands so that -she held the poor, deluded lady with her back to the houses, while she -herself could watch Jack in his quest of the pigeon-pie. - -Madame was glad of this opportunity of saying a few well-chosen words to -her daughter. - -She began very gravely:--"Marjolaine, you are putting on this gaiety to -please me--" - -"No, Maman," said Marjolaine; but at that moment the lamplighter slid -down his ladder, and, creeping on all fours, began stalking the -pigeon-pie. She saw it was going to be a race between the lamplighter -and Jack for the coveted prize, and she could not suppress a little -startled "Oh!" - -"Why do you cry out like that?" asked Madame, with deep concern. - -Marjolaine had the greatest difficulty in the world to keep from -laughing. "Nothing, Maman!" she said, volubly. "You are not to be -anxious about me. I am quite, quite happy." - -The race was continuing. Although Jack saw the lamplighter's manoeuvre, -he could not move quickly, for fear of making a noise and being heard by -Madame. - -"I saw Lord Otford yesterday," Madame continued. - -Marjolaine's entire attention was absorbed by the rivals. "You saw--?" -she repeated, vaguely. But at that moment the lamplighter was -perceptibly gaining on Jack. "Oh! Oh!" she cried, with a stifled -laugh. - -Madame was shocked. "Marjolaine, you are laughing!" - -"No, no!" cried Marjolaine, "it was--it was surprise." - -"He was very stern, very indignant," her mother proceeded; "but I did -not flinch. I told him you--" - -The lamplighter snatched the pigeon-pie and fled. Jack, speechless with -rage and disappointment, was on the point of rushing after him, but, to -his horror, he caught sight of his father coming out of the Admiral's -house, and only just had time to bolt back into the Antiquary's. - -Marjolaine gave up. In an uncontrollable fit of hysterical laughter she -dashed into her own house, almost knocking Lord Otford over on her way, -and leaving her poor mother utterly dumbfounded on the seat. Had grief -affected the poor child's brain? Madame rose hurriedly to follow her -daughter--and there stood Lord Otford. - - - - - *CHAPTER XV* - - *SHOWING HOW THE ROUNDABOUT ROAD LEADS BACK - TO THE STARTING POINT* - - -[Illustration: Chapter XV headpiece] - - -"Lord Otford!" cried Madame. - -"Forgive me," he said, very gently. - -"Pray allow me to pass!" for he was standing right in her road. "I am -very anxious about my child." - -"If I am any judge," said he, with a smile, "that young lady is in the -best of health and spirits." - -Madame was indignant. "You are mistaken. She is--" but this would never -do; she was just going to let out that Marjolaine was heart-broken -because of Jack Sayle's desertion: the very last thing Lord Otford must -know. "Yes, of course," she corrected herself. "She is well and happy, -but--" - -"Then," said Lord Otford, "will you favour me with a few moments?" - -She could not help noticing with some satisfaction how different his -manner was from when they had last met. Then he had tried to bluster -and bully; now he was all deference. But she would not yield a jot. She -drew herself up proudly. - -"I can see no use in renewing our painful--" - -He interrupted her deprecatingly. "I am in a grave perplexity. My son -has disappeared--" - -Madame took him up quickly. "And you suspect us of harbouring him!" she -cried, with genuine anger. - -"No, no!" he protested. "On my honour, no!" - -"Then--?" - -"Ah, do be patient," he continued, almost humbly. "I am here on an -errand of conciliation." - -"Conciliation!" echoed Madame, with a touch of scorn. - -"Jack," Lord Otford began explaining, "is very dear to me." - -"Marjolaine is very dear to me," said Madame, defiantly. - -Lord Otford bowed. "Precisely. I have been considering. Are we -justified in keeping these two young people apart?" - -Madame looked at him in amazement. "Do you say that?" - -"I do," he smilingly affirmed. "Marjolaine, being her mother's -daughter, must be a charming gel." - -Madame waved the compliment aside. He went on. - -"And although Jack is my son, he is a thoroughly good fellow." - -"But he is contracted to marry--" Madame interrupted. - -"That is all upset," said Lord Otford; and the curious thing was that he -did not seem at all put out. "Carrie Thring has taken the bit between -her teeth and eloped with the curate." - -Madame looked at him sharply. "And your hopes being dashed in that -quarter, you come--" - -"No, you are not fair!" protested Lord Otford. "I think I should have -come in any case. Seeing you on Saturday has revived many memories--" - -"It needed some such shock." - -Lord Otford winced; but he continued bravely. "I made up my mind not to -act my own father over again. If Jack loved your daughter, he was to -marry her." - -"That is no longer the question," said Madame with emphasis. "My -daughter refuses to marry your son." - -"Why? Because she does not love him?" His voice was very grave and -very searching. Madame tried to answer. She would have given worlds to -have been able to say "Yes." But she could not say it, and she was -silent. Lord Otford was watching her keenly. - -"No!" he said, almost severely. "No; but only because you tell her to -refuse. She simply obeys out of habit. You are undertaking a heavy -responsibility. Ah! Why punish these children because I behaved like a -fool years ago, when I knew no better?" - -Madame sank on the seat under the elm. Was he right? Had she acted in -mere selfishness? Was she breaking Marjolaine's heart only to gratify -something very like spite? - -Lord Otford leant over her, and now there was a ring of passion in his -voice. "And why punish me now, so late? Is it not possible for me to -atone--Lucy?" - -"Lord Otford!" she cried, trying to rise. - -"Don't stop me now! Don't go away!" he entreated, motioning her back. -"Ah! we are poor creatures at best! We go blindly past our happiness. -Let us hark back, Lucy, and try to find the trail we missed!" - -"We!" cried Madame. - -"I." - -Madame was profoundly stirred. His voice had not changed at all in all -those years: just so had he murmured passionate words in the old -vicarage garden. She must take care, or she would fall under the spell -of it again--and that must not be. She must take care; harden her -heart; put on a panoply of steel. - -"I have been quite happy," she said at last, very defiantly. - -"I know it," he answered, "and I am glad to know it." - -"But I purchased my happiness dearly." She turned on him with bitter -resentment. "You have never realised the suffering you inflicted on -me!" - -"I can imagine it," he answered, almost voicelessly. - -"No, you cannot," she retorted. "Only those who have gone through it -can imagine it. Ah! think of pride insulted; ideals smirched; faith -trampled on; tenderness turned back on itself!" - -"I know it all," he murmured. - -Madame went on, more as if she were communing with herself. "Nature is -very strong, very merciful. I had not forgotten! Never, for one -moment! But life covered the memory." She paused a moment, sunk in -thought. When she spoke again it was in a gentler voice. "Then Jules -came, and offered me his companionship. I gave him all I could, and he -was content. Oh! the good, true, generous man!" - -Once more Lord Otford winced; but he contrived to say with genuine -feeling, "I honour him." After all, Jules was dead. - -"And I honour his memory," said Madame, gravely. - -Lord Otford spoke very earnestly. "We are quite frank, Lucy: you loved -your husband; I loved my wife--" - -"And there is no more to be said," concluded Madame, rising, with a -little sigh. - -"Ah! but there is!" he exclaimed, standing and facing her. "Face your -own soul, Lucy, and tell me: did the thought of the old vicarage garden -at Otford never haunt you?" - -She looked straight into his eyes. "Never with any suggestion of -disloyalty to Jules," she said firmly. - -"That I am sure of. But it came. I know." He dropped his voice, came -closer, and spoke with deep feeling. "Lucy, Lucy, it was always there! -It never left you, as it never left me! It was the fragrant refuge, into -which we crept in our solitary moments--never with disloyalty on your -side or mine--but for consolation, for rest. Is that true?" - -"It was merely the echo of an old song--" she murmured, under her -breath. - -"But how sweet! How tender!" - -"And how sad!" Her strength was going. Every word he said seemed to -draw the strength out of her. Her heart yearned to him; her whole soul -cried out for him; and only her will resisted. She made one more -effort. "No! No!" she cried, "I banished the memories! I banish them -now!" - -"You could not! You cannot!" he whispered, passionately. "No one -can!--Think of these two children: Marjolaine and Jack. Suppose we part -them now: suppose they go their different ways: do you think either of -them will forget the flowing river, the sheltering elm, or the words -they have whispered under it? Never!--Lucy, Lucy--" he was bending over -her where she sat, and his voice had all the old thrill--"though we go -astray from first love; though we undervalue it; yes! though we -desecrate it, it never dies!--On revient toujours a ses premiers -amours!" - -But the years that had flown! the unrelenting years! what of them? - -"We cannot retrace our steps," she said, sadly, "we cannot undo -suffering; we cannot win back innocence." - -"We can!" he cried. "We started from the garden; we have been a long -journey with all its chances and adventures; and now we are at the -garden gate again: the flowers we loved are beckoning to us; the birds -we loved are calling us; we have but to lift the latch--Lucy, shall we -not open the gate and enter the garden?" - -"We cannot recall the sunrise--" - -"But the sunset can be as beautiful!" - -"We are old," she said; but her voice had no conviction. As a matter of -fact, at that particular moment she felt she was eighteen. - -"I deny it!" he laughed. He felt assured of victory. "Do I feel old? -Do you look old?--I can't vault a five-barred gate, but I can open it -and get on the other side just as quickly!" - -She looked up at him with a wistful smile. "But--but there are other -things--" - -"There is, above all, happiness! If we have no children of our own, -Lucy, we shall have our grandchildren." - -"No!" she cried, rising, and shaking her head. "I have been too -persuasive. Marjolaine's love has been nipped in the bud. And besides, -Jack has run away from her." - -"Not he, if I know the young rascal!" He took both her hands in his. -"You tell me Marjolaine is well and happy?" - -"Yes; but hysterical. You saw for yourself, just now." - -"Is she a flighty coquette?" - -"Certainly not!" - -"Then I 'll bet you a new hat--No! a diamond tiara!--she knows where -Jack is, and there 's an understanding between them!" - -"Oh!" exclaimed Madame, as the possibility of this idea struck her. - -"Lucy!" cried Lord Otford, drawing her to him, "both couples shall be -married on the same day!" - -You have no idea how pretty Madame looked in her confusion and -happiness. You have no idea how young and handsome Lord Otford looked -in his victory. Love had set the clock back for both of them--and they -were young man and young maid again. - -What had become of Madame's resentment? What had become of all the -arguments she had thought of when he first began to speak? His voice -had effaced them all. It was so natural to be loved by him and to love -him, that no other thing seemed possible. She had nothing to say. She -could only breathe a great sigh of contentment as he touched her: she -felt as if she had parted with him in the garden only last night; and -to-night he had come again; and all was as it should be; and all was -well. - -But suddenly she started away from him. - -"Jack!" she cried, with horror, "we shall have to tell them!" - -"Oh, Lord!" exclaimed Otford with comic dismay. - -"I can't face Marjolaine!" said Madame, with a pretty blush, which, -however, was wasted in the darkness. - -"Jack'll roast me properly!" groaned Lord Otford. - -"You see it's hopeless! We've been telling them how utterly impossible -their marriage is, and now we propose to get married ourselves! How they -'ll laugh at us!" - -"Let 'em!" cried Lord Otford. "By Gad, it shall be happy laughter!" -And therewith he drew Madame into his arms and kissed her; and I cannot -honestly say she resisted. - -But they were interrupted by Doctor Sternroyd, who at that very moment -came stumbling out of his house. Also the Eyesore and Jim came round -the corner together, with their arms affectionately round each other's -necks and every symptom of having spent the larger part of Mrs. -Poskett's bribes. The Eyesore found his box with difficulty and sank on -it with relief. It was with a shaky hand he took up his rod and fell to -fishing again. Jim meandered deviously into the Admiral's house. - -"Sh!" whispered Madame, warningly, as she saw the antiquary. She turned -to him with that preternatural calmness which ladies know so well how to -assume under such circumstances, and said, alluding to something he was -carrying in his hand, "Why, Doctor, are you fetching milk so late? I -can give you some." - -"No, Ma'am," said the Doctor, with suppressed rage. "I am not seeking -the lacteal fluid. As you see me, I, the Reverend Jacob Sternroyd, -Doctor of Divinity and Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries, am on my -way to procure Ale!--" And with a face expressive of the utmost disgust -he held out a very diminutive white milk-jug. - -"Oh!" said Madame, with a tinge of astonishment. Then, in order to -account for the presence of a stranger, she added, "This is Lord -Otford." - -With a cry of "Good Heavens!" the conscience-stricken Doctor let the jug -fall. Happily it fell on the lawn and was not damaged. - -With native courtesy Lord Otford picked it up and handed it to its -owner. "Allow me: your jug, I think." Then, as a sudden idea occurred -to him, "By the way, Doctor--" he cast a meaning glance at Madame--"can -you tell me anything about a marriage-licence?" - -Madame looked down, with another very becoming blush: but the Doctor's -behaviour was quite extraordinary. He threw up his hands in guilty -despair. "I said so! I knew it would come out!--" He appealed to -Madame. "Miss Barbara told you!" - -"Yes--but--" answered Madame, puzzled and astonished. - -The Doctor continued rapidly, while the couple could only stare at him -in mute amazement. - -"I wash my hands of it! Two whole days, one of which was the blessed -Sabbath, I have been up to my neck in cabals and intrigues! I have -done!--" He fumbled in his pockets and ultimately produced a -legal-looking document. "My Lord, it was very kind of you to approach -the subject so considerately, but here is what you ask for. His Grace -was very reluctant, but the pipe, which I now fear was not genuine, did -it." Then, as if he had unburdened himself of some oppressive load of -guilt, he cried, "Hah! My conscience is white again! I will tell the -young fire-brand!" And with that he hurried back into the house, -calling, "Jack! Jack!" - -"But what is all this?" cried Lord Otford. He unfolded the paper and -took it under the lamp. As soon as he had read the first lines, he gave -a cry of amused surprise. "What do you say now, Lucy?"--Then he read -aloud, "John Sayle, of Pomander Walk, in the Parish of Chiswick, -bachelor, and Marjolaine Lachesnais, also of Pomander Walk, spinster--" - -"Under our very noses!" exclaimed Madame, half vexed and half amused. - -"And old Dryasdust has been harbouring Jack! And now he 's gone to tell -him!--Lucy, let's see what desperate thing they 'll do next. Come!" He -drew her gently into the Gazebo, and for a moment there was complete -silence in the Walk. - -But suddenly this was shattered by a fierce outcry in Doctor Sternroyd's -passage. The door was flung open and the Doctor appeared, vainly trying -to bar Jack's way. - -"But, my dear young friend--" the Doctor was protesting. - -"Let me pass!" shouted Jack, livid, and thrusting his host aside. "For -five years I 've been a sailor, and I can't think of the words I want!" - -"Dear, dear! Tut, tut!" said the Doctor; but he did not wait. The -conspiracy at any rate was off his mind. He retired into his house, and -carefully locked the door. - -Jack rushed to Marjolaine's house and boldly performed a long rat-tat -with the brass knocker, muttering to himself all the time, "The old -fool! Oh, my stars! the silly old fool!" - -Nanette appeared. - -"Tell Miss Marjory that--" began Jack, violently. - -"Plait-il?" said Nanette, impassively. - -"Oh, hang!--Er--deet ah Madermerzell--" - -But Marjolaine ran into the passage. "Jack!" she cried, much alarmed. -"Oh! What is it?" - -"Come out! Come out!" cried Jack, seizing her hand and dragging her -hastily down the steps, to Nanette's horror and indignation. - -"Ah, mais!" the latter exclaimed, "Ou est donc Madame?" and went in to -look for her. - -Jack was incoherent. "Sternroyd!" he gasped. "He had the licence! Had -it! We were to be married to-morrow! And he 's gone and given it--to -whom do you think?--to my father!" - -"Oh!" exclaimed poor Marjolaine, "then all is over!" - -"No!" he cried, with magnificent determination. "All 's to begin again! -Take me to your mother. Then I 'll take you to my father." - -Lord Otford and Madame Lachesnais had come out of the summer-house. - -"That is what you should have done at first, sir!" said Lord Otford. - -"Father!" cried Jack, amazed. - -With a half-frightened cry of "Maman!" Marjolaine threw herself in her -mother's arms. - -But Jack was not to be trifled with. He faced his father heroically. -"It's no use, sir! You can cut me off with a shilling, but I mean to -marry Marjory!" - -Marjolaine was not to be outdone in courage. "Maman!" she said, with a -radiant face, "he came back; and I 'm going to marry him." - -Lord Otford turned gravely to Madame. "What do you say?" - -"I say, God bless them." - -"Maman!" cried Marjolaine, hugging her. - -"And I, too, say God bless them!" cried Lord Otford, heartily. - -"Marjory!" shouted Jack; and in a moment the lovers were in each other's -arms. - -"H'm," suggested Lord Otford, drily, "I believe this is a public -thoroughfare!" - -The lovers separated abashed. "Oh, sir!" said Jack, "please give me -back that document." - -"Why, no, Jack," answered his father, "I want that." And he and Madame -glanced at each other guiltily. - -"But, sir!" protested Jack. - -"Um--the fact is--" Lord Otford had never felt so shy in his life. In -vain he appealed to Madame for support; she was much too busy examining -the very pretty point of her very pretty shoe. "I say, the fact -is--with slight alterations--it may come in useful. Er--I, too, am John -Sayle--and--um--I, too, am going to get married." - -"Marjory," said Jack, very gravely, "my father's trying to be funny." - -But Marjolaine's attention was divided between her mother and Lord -Otford. The clumsy shyness of the one and the pretty confusion of the -other gave her, as she would have said in French, furiously to think. -Besides which, we must not forget she was in her Mother's confidence. - -"Maman," she said, roguishly, "I believe!--Lord Otford! I believe--!" - -"Believe, my child, believe!" cried Lord Otford, glad not to have to -enter into further explanations. He took her pretty head between his -hands, and kissed her. "Here 's the document, Jack; and--ah--there is a -pleasant seat under the elm; and agreeable retirement in -the--ah--Gazebo." - -So he and Madame sat in the arbour, and Jack and Marjolaine sat under -the elm, and the leaves of that wise old tree having been awakened by -Jack, asked each other with a pleasant rustle which couple was the -happier of the two. - -There was a great to-do at the Admiral's. I think Mrs. Poskett had been -watching the lovers; for now the door burst open, and the Admiral and -Jim hauled out the little brass cannon, followed by Mrs. Poskett, all in -a flutter with pleasant alarm. While they were planting the gun close -behind the unconscious Eyesore's back, the lamplighter came running -in--he always ran--and put out the first lamp. Barbara and Basil came -slowly out of their house, and leant over the railings in a close -embrace, while Ruth stood watching them from the upper window. Basil, -indeed, had brought his fiddle. - -"Haul her out!" roared Sir Peter, alluding to the gun. - -Mrs. Poskett uttered a little scream. "Oh, Peter! I 'm frightened!" - -Jim reassured her in a hoarse grunt. "It 's all right, Mum, I 've -emptied her." - -The lamplighter put out the lower lamp. - -"What are you doing that for?" cried Jack. - -The lamplighter pointing over his shoulder, replied laconically, "Moon!" -and ran off. - -Sir Peter was just about to apply a lighted candle to the touch-hole of -the gun, when Mr. Jerome Brooke-Hoskyn, much dishevelled, threw open his -window, and cried in a horrified whisper, "Sir Peter! Sir Peter!--For -Heaven's sake, don't fire that gun!" - -"Why the devil not, sir?" roared Sir Peter, angrily. - -"Sh!" cried Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn, waving a frantic hand. "_It's a boy!_" - -"Gobblessmysoul!" cried Sir Peter, "I'll be godfather!" - -And all the Walk was delighted, and the leaves of the elm clapped their -hands together in the evening breeze. - -Basil gently disengaged his arm from Barbara's waist and began playing -the slow movement of the Kreutzer Sonata very, very softly. - -Suddenly, behind the tower of Chiswick Church, up leapt the great full -moon, turning the river to molten light, and flooding the Walk with -gold. - -The Admiral and Mrs. Poskett hurried to the Gazebo--but that was full. -They turned to the seat under the elm--but that was occupied. -"Gobblessmysoul!" said the Admiral. - -So they had to be content to stand very close together, watching the -river. And Sempronius came and rubbed his arched back against the -Admiral's legs. Jim and Nanette looked on from their door-steps in -amazement. - -In his bow-window Doctor Sternroyd was gazing fondly at a faded -miniature, while with his other hand he raised a glass of punch on high. -"Araminta!" he sighed, and drank to her memory. - -"Oh, Selina!" exclaimed Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn. - -In the Gazebo there was a very tender whisper:--"Lucy!" - -Marjolaine's head sank on her lover's shoulder with a happy, "Oh, Jack!" - -Ruth was showering blossoms of jasmine on Barbara and Basil. - -There was a great silence, emphasized by the yearning notes of Basil's -fiddle. And through the silence came Ruth's voice, tender and -wistful:-- - -"Ah, well!--I'm sure we all hope they'll live happily ever after!"-- - -And, for the first time in his life, the Eyesore caught a fish. - - -[Illustration: Chapter XV tailpiece] - - - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POMANDER WALK *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/47925 - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so -the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. -Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this -license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg(tm) -electronic works to protect the Project Gutenberg(tm) concept and -trademark. 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