"Gobblessmysoul! I was startled! I thought—"
The Admiral must not be allowed to wander from the only topic that mattered. Marjolaine interrupted him. "Was he on your ship?"
"What, Jack Sayle? Ay, was he. And a fine young feller, too. Of course you was much too agitated to notice him last Saturday. Gad! I wonder he has n't been to see me all the week. Promised he would. Said he 'd come last Monday."
"Did he?" cried Marjory. So he had broken his word in two places!
"He did. There! He's only on leave, and he has heavy social duties. Only son of Lord Otford, y' know."
"Lord Otford!" Marjolaine repeated, amazed. The name and the title somehow impressed her with a sense of vague fear.
"Ay, ay," the unconscious Admiral proceeded garrulously. "My old friend. Otford's selfish about him. Ye see, the boy 'll come into a great estate. Half a county. And the old man's anxious about his marriage."
"Whose marriage?" asked Marjory, almost voicelessly.
"Why, Jack's, to be sure!—Lord!—they marry 'em now before they 're out of their swaddling clothes. Otford's in a hurry to secure the succession—" He stopped abruptly. This was really not a subject to discuss with a young girl. "Hum!—what I was about to say—er—the Honourable Caroline Thring—!"
"Caroline Thring"—Marjolaine repeated the name to herself. It was a name to remember.