"What now?" cried Jack.
"Maman and Nanette!"
Yes. As ill-luck would have it Madame Lachesnais and her old servant turned the corner at this moment, and with a friendly word to each of her neighbours Madame was coming slowly towards the Gazebo.
"They must not come here!" cried Marjolaine in distress. "I cannot explain you before the whole Walk!—Is my hair straight?"
"Lovely!—Monday?"
"Oh, I don't know. I'm frightened."
"Monday?" insisted Jack.
"Yes! Yes!"
But meanwhile Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn had come out of his house, and taking advantage of the hubbub in the Walk had crossed—shall I say like a sleuth-hound?—more like a sleuth-cat, if there be such an animal—to the Gazebo. So that when Marjolaine came forward to intercept her mother, she ran straight into his arms.
"All right, Miss Marjory," he whispered, with something very like a wink, "I'll fetch the things for you."