Marjolaine came close to her mother. "Oh, let me laugh, Maman!" She
proceeded in a whisper, "They are so droll! Sir Peter is afraid of Mrs.
Poskett; Mrs. Poskett is almost in tears; Mr. Basil is gloomy; Ruth is
in a bad temper; and Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn has n't got over Saturday's
banquet."
"But you, Marjolaine--!" exclaimed Madame with quiet reproof.
"You told me to fight it, Maman," said Marjolaine, with a shy laugh.
Then she ran across to Basil, who was watching the door through which
Barbara might still come. He was wondering what demon had persuaded him
to accept this invitation, which had brought him out of doors, when he
might have stayed indoors where he would at least have been under the
same roof as Barbara.
The Admiral had bravely recovered from his rebuff. He came up to
Brooke-Hoskyn. "Well, Brooke, my boy! Did n't see you in church
yesterday. Too much turtle on Saturday--what?" and down came the flat
of his hand with a round thwack on Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn's broad back.
To be accused of having overeaten yourself when you are suffering from a
bad headache is extremely annoying; to be slapped on the back when you
are swallowing hot tea is infuriating. Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn turned on Sir
Peter. "Nothing of the sort, sir!--I deprecate these unseemly
familiarities. I was detained from divine service because I chose to
sit at home and hold my dear Selina's hand!" And he turned his back on
Sir Peter.
"Um," said the latter. His playful banter was certainly not being well
received.
Mrs. Poskett looked up at Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn with melancholy eyes. "How
is your wife?" she said, "that dear, innocent lamb."
"Gambolling, Ma'am," he answered, airily. "Figuratively speaking, Selina
is gambolling."
"How wonderful!" exclaimed Mrs. Poskett, sympathetically.
Basil Pringle felt that something drastic must be done if they were to
live through the evening. He addressed Marjolaine. "Miss Marjory,
won't you cheer us with a song?"
Madame Lachesnais interposed quickly: this was putting her poor child's
courage to too severe a test. "I am sure she would prefer not to sing
this evening."
But Marjolaine exclaimed merrily, "Oh, yes, Maman, if they would like
it!"
Madame could only admire her indomitable pluck. "Brave child!" she
murmured.
"Sing that pretty little thing about the blue ribbon," cried the
Admiral, and hummed the first bar.
"Ha!" mockingly cried Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn.