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.