"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]