“But you have n't answered my question, Julia,” said he, tremulously.
“And what was your question?”
“I asked you if the past—if all that had taken place between us—was to be now forgotten?”
“I declare here is George,” said she, bounding towards the window and opening it. “What a splendid fish, George! Did you take it yourself?”
“Yes, and he cost me the top joint of my rod; and I'd have lost him after all if Lafferty had not waded out and landed him. I 'm between two minds, Julia, whether I 'll send him up to the Bramleighs.”
She put her finger to her lip to impose caution, and said, “The admiral,”—the nickname by which Jack was known—“is here.”
“All right,” replied L'Estrange. “We'll try and keep him for dinner, and eat the fish at home.” He entered as he spoke. “Where 's Jack. Did n't you say he was here?”
“So he was when I spoke. He must have slipped away without my seeing it. He is really gone.”
“I hear he is gazetted; appointed to some ship on a foreign station. Did he tell you of it?”
“Not a word. Indeed, he had little time, for we did nothing but squabble since he came in.”