Two weeks later, with no explanation or excuse, a cable came from Wally to Miss Watts:
It was a blow to them both, they were having such a good time. But it was "theirs not to question why"--so they packed hastily, to catch the steamer leaving on the morrow.
It happened that hostilities were on at the moment, between Isabelle and the Captain. She did not want to leave him without a farewell, nor did she want to make overtures toward peace. He was off on Haven's yacht when the news of the approaching sudden departure spread about. It happened that on his return no one spoke to him about it. Isabelle saw him after dinner on the terrace. He lit a cigarette and strolled off alone toward the gardens. She followed him. He wandered into a sort of kiosk, where the view was fine, and she darted in after him, and straight into his arms.
"Good-bye," she said, "good-bye. I hope it isn't for ever."
He held her to him in complete surprise, and laid his cheek upon her hair.
"Cricket," he said softly, "little old crickety-Cricket! Good-bye for what?"
"You! You!" she cried. "Oh! But I thought you were----"
But she ran away fast, through the garden, and he heard her laughter.
This was the memory that Isabelle carried with her on the way home. It was sweet and warm. She was content with it for a while.
Wally met them at the pier. It was plain that he was excited. After hasty greetings, he turned to his daughter.
"Who in thunder is this Frenchman you're engaged to?"
"Jean Jacques Petard visits me; Jean Jacques Petard patrols our house; Jean Jacques Petard shadows your mother----"
"None of your tricks!" ordered Wally. "What we want to know is who is this Jean Jacques Petard, who demands your hand in marriage?"
On the way home from the pier Isabelle demanded explanations about the Frenchman, but Wally refused to talk.
"Your mother has something to say on the subject. Wait until we get home."
She and Miss Watts were summoned before the bar of judgment as soon as they reached the house. Max met them in the library and after a perfunctory greeting opened fire.
"I am sorry, Mrs. Bryce, but I must ask you to be more explicit."
"Explicit? I send my daughter away in your charge and you bring her back engaged to some unknown poilu. Then you ask me to be explicit!"