Mrs. Poskett confided tearfully to her tea-cup. "The Walk is not the
Walk without him."
Sir Peter was genuinely astonished. "Why, he tried to drown your cat,
Ma'am!"
Madame playfully shook her finger at him, "Oh, Sir Peter! have you
driven the poor man away?"
The Walk eyed him severely, and all cried as with one voice, "For shame,
Sir Peter!" Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn went on booming, "Shame! Shame!" all by
himself, long after the others were silent.
The Admiral's patience was nearly exhausted. Here was Madame turning
against him now. The injustice of it infuriated him. He stamped with
rage. "But, hang it and dash it, I haven't seen him!" he roared. But
nobody believed him. All shook their heads gloomily, and said "Ah!"
*CHAPTER XII*
*IN WHICH THE OLD CONSPIRACY IS TRIUMPHANT
AND A NEW CONSPIRACY IS HATCHED*
[Illustration: Chapter XII headpiece]
Little Miss Barbara Pennymint came flying out of her house: a little
more and she would have flown over the railings. Her cheeks were glowing
with joy, her eyes glittering with excitement. She saw nothing of the
tea-party, but dashed headlong into the midst of it as a sea-mew dashes
at a lighthouse. "Marjory! Marjory!" she cried. Then she saw all the
people staring at her, and stopped, abashed. "Oh! I had forgotten!"
she exclaimed, and spread her wings to fly back again, but Madame
stopped her.
"A dish of tea, Miss Barbara?"
"No!" cried Barbara, violently, but remembering her manners she
corrected herself. "Oh, no, thank you!" She hopped and skipped to
Marjolaine, who had come half-way to meet her. "Marjory," she said,
overflowing with excitement, "can I speak to you?"
Before Marjolaine could answer, Sir Peter had borne down on them. Here,
at last, was somebody who had not snubbed him yet. "Ah, Miss Barbara,"
he bellowed, with clumsy playfulness, "I didn't see you in church
yesterday!"
As if Barbara wanted to be reminded of that!
"Wasn't I there?" she stammered, utterly taken aback. "I don't
remember." She tried to get away, but the Admiral was inexorable.
"Come, now! Come, now! What was the text?"
Unhappy little Barbara saw all the eyes of the Walk fixed on her. She
had to say something. "Oh! I know!" she cried at last, and proceeded
volubly, "'If any of you know of any cause or just impediment--'"
"Barbara!" screamed Miss Ruth, indignantly, while the others laughed at
her confusion. Basil heaved a great sigh. Still thinking of the lost
one! Marjolaine came to the rescue and drew Barbara away from her
tormentor. "Come away, Babs!" She turned severely on poor Sir Peter,
"Don't worry her, Sir Peter!"
"Try to put some sense in her, Miss Marjory," said Ruth, as the two
girls ran away, with their arms, as usual, round each others' waists.
The Admiral was crushed. "Even Missie!" he groaned. But he saw Mr.
Brooke-Hoskyn preparing to tell another anecdote. This gave him new
courage. Putting on his courtliest manner, he exclaimed, "Well, Ladies!
To-morrow is the Fourth of June!"
"As this is the Third," interrupted Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn, with fine
sarcasm, "you might safely have left us to infer that, sir!"
He was standing close to Mrs. Poskett, who had not moved from her seat
under the elm. Sir Peter came and faced him, so that the poor lady found
herself, as she afterwards described it, between the upper and the
nether millstone.
If Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn could wield sarcasm, so could Sir Peter when he was
put to it. He spoke with dangerous politeness. "But it seems necessary
to remind the bosom friend of H.R.H. the P. of W. that it is the
birthday of His Most Gracious Majesty King George the Third!--" The
shot told. For a moment Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn was silenced. Sir Peter went
on, conscious of victory, "Ladies, I warn you not to be alarmed when you
hear me fire the salute as usual!"
Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn leaped--positively leaped at his opportunity. "As
usual!--Ha! That brass popgun of yours--"
"Popgun!--" roared the Admiral, leaning across Mrs. Poskett.
"I said popgun, sir!--has never gone off, yet!"
Mrs. Poskett was in a dreadful flutter. She held up her cup and saucer
deprecatingly to each of the infuriated gentlemen in turn, and each
automatically seized them and rattled them in the other's face.
Jim--moved by his guilty conscience--was signalling frantically to Mr.
Brooke-Hoskyn not to betray him.
The Admiral was purple in the face. "Because some infernal scoundrel
has always tampered with the charge!" The accumulated grievances of the
evening welled up within him. "But to-night," he went on, thrusting the
cup and saucer roughly on Mrs. Poskett and spilling the tea over her
beautiful silk gown, "to-night, I'll load it myself! and, damme! I'll
take it to bed with me!" And with that he stumped off in a rage into
his house, thrusting the innocent Basil and the terrified Jim out of his
way with horrible objurgations.
"Now, Ladies!" said Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn, triumphantly, "you see the man's
real nature!"
Poor Mrs. Poskett's nerves were completely shattered, and she was trying
to drink tea out of her empty cup.
Ruth came and sat beside her. "We shall break the Admiral down, yet, my
dear. His temper is all due to conscience."
"Alderman Poskett was just like that whenever he had sanded the sugar,"
said Mrs. Poskett, tearfully.
Mr. Brooke-Hoskyn was devoting himself to Madame. Jim and Nanette were
removing the tea-things into Madame's house, and that rascally Jim, who
was old enough to know better--but is anybody ever old enough to know
better?--was making the most of his chances.
Marjolaine and Barbara had retired into the Gazebo. "Yes!" twittered
Barbara, continuing their conversation, "he's learnt it! He does
surround it with flowers of speech, but he says it quite clearly."
"Dear Doctor Johnson!" cried Marjolaine, laughing, and clapping her
hands.
Barbara shuddered reminiscently. "But I cannot bear his eye on me!
It's like Charles's. And he is moulting--which more than ever increases
the resemblance. Oh, Marjory, he looked at me so coldly all the time I
was teaching him!"
"Never mind how he looked, if he'll only talk!"