"Ma tante!" warned Miss Redmond, with a note of pain in her voice.
"Yes, yes," accepted the marquise, "I know, my dear, I know. But you can not escape from the yacht except in a lifeboat, and if you did it would be one of Robert's lifeboats! You must not be too formal with him." She tapped the nose of her Pekinese dog. "Be still, Mimi, that man is only a sailor! and if he were not here and at his duty you would be drowned, you little goose!"
The Pekinese dog was a new addition. Julia tried not to dislike her; for Julia, only Pitchouné existed. She could not touch Mimi without a sense of disloyalty.
The boat cut the azure water with its delicate white body, the decks glistened like glass. The sailor at whom Mimi had barked passed out of sight, and far up in the bow Tremont, in white flannels, stood smoking.
"I had to be very circumspect, my dear Julia, when I talked with Robert. You see you are not engaged to Monsieur de Sabron." The girl colored. "The sentimental woman in me," her aunt went on, "has responded to all your fantasies, but the practical woman in me calls me a romantic goose."
"Ah," breathed Miss Redmond, opening her book, "ma tante, let me read."
"Nonsense," said the marquise affectionately. "The most important part of the whole affair is that we are here—that we are en route to Algiers, is it not?"
The girl extended her hand gratefully.
"And thank you! Tell me, what did you say to him?"
The marquise hummed a little tune, and softly pulled Mimi's ears.