"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.