'Oh, good morning, Captain Jackman,' he shouted, as if he were hailing the mast-head of a ship. 'Those Devil's Walks of ours seem to have exercised a pleasant fascination over your mind.'
'What do you think, father? Captain Jackman was actually passing this house not long ago without intending to call.'
'Captain Jackman's ideas of reserve may be different from yours,' said the commander.
'Yes,' she cried quickly; 'and after luncheon I am going to show him about the place.'
'The place' was to be viewed, every street and alley, in an hour, and Captain Jackman had now been some three or four days in these parts exploring. The commander stared at the cool turn his daughter gave to things, and muttering, 'Oh yes, sir; you'll stop to lunch, I hope, you'll stop to lunch,' he shuffled out on his slippered feet to put away his broom.
CHAPTER IV. THE PROPOSAL.
One afternoon, a week after Captain Jackman had lunched at Battle Lodge, as the commander had tremendously named his trifling villa, Miss Conway was pacing her bedroom with impatient feet, slanting an eye, eloquent of purpose that had waxed almost into temper, over the old-fashioned, puckered blinds which concealed the interior of the room from the roadway leading to the town.
At this same hour, the commander, who was red in the face from having sat beside the fire, was musing over a letter in his hand.