The Admiral turned a Gorgon stare upon her, but made no answer.
Under its petrifying influence she backed out without another word,
to communicate with the girls upon the portent.

This mood of the Admiral's lasted all day. Next morning, at
breakfast, he looked up from his bacon, and observed, with the air of
a man whose mind is made up--

"Emily, see that the girls have on their best gowns by eleven o'clock
sharp. I am going to pay a call."

Consternation sat on every face. Sam Buzza paused in the act of
breaking an egg.

"At 'The Bower'?" he asked.

"At 'The Bower.'"

Mrs. Buzza clasped her hands nervously. The girls turned pale.

"Oh, very well," said Sam, tapping his egg. "I shouldn't wonder if I
turned up while you were there."

He was a light-haired, ungainly youth, of about twenty, with a
reputation for singing a comic song. It was understood that the
Admiral designed him for College and Holy Orders, but meanwhile time
was passing, and Sam sat "with idle hands at home," or more
frequently, in the bar of the "Man-o'-War."

"You!" exclaimed his father.