"What a wonderful man you are, Sir Peter!"
When they had all recovered, Basil came to Marjolaine and eagerly reminded her it was high time for her singing-lesson.
Marjolaine appealed to Barbara: "Maman told me to ask you to come with me."
Barbara gave a little hop of delight, but Ruth exclaimed, "Shall I take your place, dear?"
"No, no," cried Barbara, almost as if she were in a fright, "I love to hear her." Barbara, Marjolaine, and Basil moved slowly towards Number Three, while Ruth approached Mrs. Poskett. "Will you come in and take a dish of tea?"
"No," replied Mrs. Poskett, "no, thank you," and then, with a giggle, "I'm going—you'll never guess!—I 'm going to comb my wig."
Seeing the ladies all strolling towards their houses the Admiral once more challenged Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn to play off the rubber at quoits. But he declined. "I think not, Sir Peter. Selina will be expecting me."
Mrs. Poskett stopped. "I wonder you can bear to leave her so much alone."
Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn felt the implied reproach. With a countenance full of woe, he replied, "It tears my heart-strings, ma'am; but she will have it so. 'Brooke,' she says—or 'Jerome,' as the case may be—'your place is in the fashionable world, among the hote tonn.' So I sacrifice my inclination to her pleasure."
"How unselfish of you!" said Ruth.