"Damme!" cried the Admiral. "I must think that over. And as for you," he added, with humorous sternness, "you come and sit under the tree and I 'll talk to you like a Dutch uncle."
Marjolaine saw Mrs. Poskett at her window. It would not do for Sir Peter to talk to her like an uncle—Dutch or otherwise. "Sir Peter!" she cried, "Sempronius is going to jump!"
Sir Peter rushed to the cat again, and again found him sound asleep. He turned furiously towards Marjolaine, but Mrs. Poskett intercepted him. "Good morning, Sir Peter!"
Sir Peter looked up, where the widow was shaking the ribbons of her cap at him. "Morning, ma'am," he said, sulkily. "Your cat—"
"Hush!" interrupted Mrs. Poskett, craning forward to see her pet. "Dear Sempronius!—Don't disturb him! He's so happy!"
"But—!"
"I 'm sure it's going to rain," the widow explained. "He always sits there when he feels rain coming; because the fish rise, and he loves watching them."
"Confounded nonsense," growled Sir Peter.
Mrs. Poskett closed her window, and Sir Peter was on the point of returning to Marjolaine and having it out with her, when Madame Lachesnais came out of her house. Of course that made all conversation with the girl impossible, and as he did not feel he could meet the mother, knowing what he now knew, there was nothing left for him but to salute her and beat a hasty retreat into his own house and think things over.
CHAPTER VII