Stratton made no answer for a few moments. The difficulty was how to begin. It was not that he was strange with the admiral, for, consequent upon the friendship formerly existing between Miss Jerrold and his mother, Sir Mark’s house had been open to him times enough. Seeing his hesitation the old sailor smiled encouragement.
“Come, my lad,” he said, “out with it. Is something wrong? Want help?”
“Yes, sir, yours,” said Stratton, making his plunge, and now speaking quickly. “The fact is, Sir Mark, I have had news this morning—glorious news for me.”
“Glad of it, my dear boy. But you looked just now as if you were going to court-martial for running your ship aground.”
“I suppose it was natural, sir. Yesterday I was a poor struggling man, to-day I have had the letter announcing my appointment to the Headley Museum, and it is not only the stipend—a liberal one—but the position that is so valuable for one who is fighting to make his way in the scientific ranks.”
The admiral stretched out his hand, and shook Stratton’s warmly.
“Glad of it, my dear boy. My congratulations on your promotion. I shall see you an admiral among the scientific bigwigs yet. To be sure; of course. I have been so taken up with other things—being abroad—and so much worried and occupied since I came back, that I had forgotten all about it. But my sister told me she was moving heaven and earth, and going down on her knees to all kinds of great guns to beg them to salute you.”
“Then it has been her doing,” cried Stratton excitedly.
“Oh, yes; I think she has done something in it. Do the girls know?”
“No, sir; not yet,” said Stratton hastily. “I felt that it was my duty to come to you first.”