it ensured a meeting with Nance at least once each day.

And not with Nance only!

Madame Julie, very weary of herself, and Tom, and her surroundings, and
Sark, and life in general as understood in Sark, very soon became
conscious of the regular visits next door of the best-looking young man
she had yet seen in the Island, and was filled with curiosity concerning
him.

"He's after that slip of a Nance," she said to herself. "And he has his
own share of good looks, has that young man."--And then came the
inevitable, "Mon Dieu, but I wish Tom had been made like that!"

To get a better view of him--and perhaps not without a vague idea of
ulterior interest and amusement for herself--anything to add a dash of
colour to the prevailing greyness of her surroundings--she was leaning
on the gate next day when he came striding up to his dinner, and gave
him, "Bon jour, m'sieur!" with much heartiness and the full benefit of
her black eyes and white teeth.

"'Jour, madame!" and he whipped off his hat and passed on into the
house.

"That was Madame Tom, I suppose, who was leaning over the gate, as I
came in," he said, as they ate.

"I expect so," said Mrs. Hamon. "She generally seems to have time on her
hands."