Marjolaine waited for him under the elm, and pondered how she was to lead the conversation round to what she wanted to hear.
The Admiral burst out of his house. For once he took no notice of the Eyesore. The cat, however, did arrest his attention. Sempronius, scenting an enemy, was blinking at him out of one eye. Sempronius' attitude towards the Admiral was one of armed neutrality. He knew Sir Peter bore him no good-will, but he also knew Sir Peter dare not touch him. Wherefore, although he kept a wary look-out, even the Admiral's threatening gesture was not enough to make him stir from his sunny corner.
Sir Peter came to Marjolaine.
"He's sitting there, watching the Eyesore like a tiger. Shows cats have no sense. 'Pears to think the Eyesore's going to catch a fish! Ha! Never caught a fish in his born days!" He took both Marjolaine's hands in his. "Well, Missie; what can I do for you?"
"Talk to me," said Marjolaine.
Sir Peter was flattered and delighted. Their little Missie was coming to life again. "Ah!—tell ye what," he said, swinging her hands, "If we had that fiddler here, we might practise the hornpipe!" He whistled gaily and tried to force her into the step.
"No, no!" she cried, breaking away from him; and then, more gently, "No: not to-day!"
The Admiral looked at her anxiously out of his one eye. "Oh?" said he, sympathetically, "In the doldrums?"
"Sir Peter," she cried, impulsively, "was you ever broken-hearted?"
"Lord bless your pretty eyes, yes! Every time I left port."