again. By some legerdemain the Admiral found that he was clutching in
his right hand one of the obnoxious bills. He crumpled it up, and threw
it into the roadway.

"I'll be hanged if I go, Walker," said he, as he resumed his walk.
"I've never been hustled into doing a thing yet, whether by woman or
man."

"I am not a betting man," answered the Doctor, "but I rather think that
the odds are in favor of your going."

The Admiral had hardly got home, and had just seated himself in his
dining-room, when the attack upon him was renewed. He was slowly and
lovingly unfolding the Times preparatory to the long read which led up
to luncheon, and had even got so far as to fasten his golden pince-nez
on to his thin, high-bridged nose, when he heard a crunching of gravel,
and, looking over the top of his paper, saw Mrs. Westmacott coming up
the garden walk. She was still dressed in the singular costume which
offended the sailor's old-fashioned notions of propriety, but he could
not deny, as he looked at her, that she was a very fine woman. In many
climes he had looked upon women of all shades and ages, but never upon a
more clearcut, handsome face, nor a more erect, supple, and womanly
figure. He ceased to glower as he gazed upon her, and the frown
smoothed away from his rugged brow.

"May I come in?" said she, framing herself in the open window, with a
background of green sward and blue sky. "I feel like an invader deep in
an enemy's country."

"It is a very welcome invasion, ma'am," said he, clearing his throat and