The two elderly men had been up since sparrowfart. From the upstairs windows of Number 16 they watched the early morning choreography on Cherry Tree Lane. It was like a ballet. Doors opened, vehicles passed, people stepped in and around. Each had a job and a purpose. The Sunday paper had been left at each door. Coal had been delivered to Miss Lark's. The family in Number 19 had left for church. Miss Banks had dropped by this morning to visit her brother. All these doings had been duly noted by Mr. Binnacle as he waited the proper time to take the Admiral outside. He did not want to be too early moving his patient out into the chilly morning air.

A bout of pneumonia over the winter had severely weakened the old seafarer and confined him to his suite of rooms on the upper floor. Now Mr. Binnacle was gravely concerned over his state of mind. The Admiral's spirits were very low. The death of young Mrs. Banks next door had been a blow. In just a few days it would be a year since her passing and the Admiral had confided in Mr. Binnacle that he couldn't understand why he had been spared when others so much younger with so much to look forward to had been taken. Clearly the Admiral needed something to interest him in the world of the living and take his mind off his isolation and illness, but what could it be?

To date Mr. Binnacles greatest success had been Big Ben. While the Admiral was recovering Mr. Binnacle had set his watch back by one minute each week. The resulting time discrepancy had enraged the Admiral and brought him out of the dangerous lethargy the doctor had been so concerned about. The Admiral had roused himself to get out of bed and go above deck every morning where he delivered blistering attacks on the Big Ben Buffoons who were ruining the country. He wrote angry letters to the papers which Mr. Binnacle prudently didn't mail, and threatened to call the mayor. Fortunately, the telephone was on the first floor and the Admiral confined to the upper deck until he could manage the stairs. It would be nice thought Mr. Binnacle if he could get the Admiral interested in a human problem for a change, but it was a challenge. Most of their old friends had already left this vale of tears and there were few young people that they knew. Mr. Binnacle's thoughts turned to the one young person he did know well.

Thank goodness for Jack. They would never have made it through the last winter without him. Jack had fetched medicine and picked up groceries. He had stayed with the Admiral when Mr. Binnacle needed time to rest. And he had helped with some of the daily chores and repairs that the old house needed. Bert and Jack were as close to family as you could get. Admiral Boom and Mr. Binnacle had known Jack since he was younger than Georgie Banks next door. They had helped Bert raise him during those early years when Bert had taken on the care of the young orphaned child. Both men had followed Jack's travels and adventures with avid interest. Now that Bert was traveling it was nice to have Jack back. Mr. Binnacle spotted him coming from the park on his bike. It was time to go out and ready the cannon.

From the roof of Number 16 Mr. Binnacle and the Admiral watched as the milk man greeted Jack and made his delivery. Jack balanced his ladder against the lamp post and started to climb. The Banks children must be watching this morning, because they saw Jack glance up and wave towards the nursery before he climbed to where he could reach the lantern. Jack ran through his morning routine of turning down the gas, polishing the glass and checking the mantle. Now, thought Mr. Binnacle, was the time to put his idea into action.

The seed of the idea had been planted this very morning when pretty Miss Banks had entered her brother's house. During the following hour it had taken root and blossomed in Mr. Binnacles mind. It might be just the ticket. Mr. Binnacle had reason to know that the Admiral's library contained many volumes that could only be described as romances. These were not the trashy modern novels so prevalent in bookstores. These were the classics of the genre. The Admiral was a great admirer of Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters. He had read Richardson's Pamela and wept over the tragedy of Clarissa. He had even dipped into the pages of Dangerous Liaisons. Perhaps a bit of real life romance would be just the thing to engage him back in the business of living.

"It's time he settled down," said Mr. Binnacle, looking at Jack who was blissfully unaware of Mr. Binnacle machinations. "He needs a family of his own now that all his friends are getting married and Bert is traveling."

"Says he's too busy and doesn't have enough money," grunted the Admiral. "Not even trying to look."

"True," agreed Mr. Binnacle. "There are only so many hours in a day and he's working so hard. Sometimes I fear we've taken too much of his time."

"Just a burden now," sighed the Admiral.

"Maybe we could help," suggested Mr. Binnacle.

"How? Won't take any money. Told him he could stay in the guest room for no charge, but he says he doesn't want to be a bother. Stubborn, just like Bert."

"I wasn't thinking about money or room and board," said Mr. Binnacle. "I was thinking more about his romantic life. Perhaps we should try to introduce him to someone."

The Admiral snorted, "There's no way he'll let us do that!"

"That is why we must be subtle," replied Mr. Binnacle. "We can't let him know what we're doing."

The Admiral was starting to be interested. "But who? We don't know any young women."

"Oh but we do," said Mr. Binnacle. "I was thinking that perhaps Miss Banks might be a suitable candidate."

"Jane Banks!" The Admiral was thunderstruck. "But she's not interested in men. Always gallivanting around like her mother, into one cause or another. Wears pants too."

"Miss Banks has not evinced any interest in men since her unhappy engagement ended so many years ago. He was not a worthy young man and I do not believe he treated her well. I believe her heart was broken and she has resigned herself to a life of loneliness." This was a masterstroke on Mr. Binnacle's part. The Admiral had very old fashioned ideas and didn't approve of young women who wore trousers and concerned themselves in other people's affairs. He had never pictured Miss Banks as the heroine of a broken romance. But now he was touched by the image of Miss Banks living in heartbroken solitude, devoting herself to endless causes to fill the time. The Admiral's heart stirred in sympathy. Noticing the softening expression on the Admiral's face Mr. Binnacle pushed his advantage.

"Miss Banks is a dutiful sister and is very fond of her niece and nephews. She has been frequently at the house helping her brother since Mrs. Bank's death. Surely this speaks of a loving and tender heart. And," he continued, "she is quite pretty. Jack is a young man, he may find pants on a woman attractive."

"But they're so different," murmured the Admiral.

"Yes, their backgrounds are very different, but Jack is a most superior young man and well read. I daresay he's equal in intelligence and knowledge to any gentleman of her acquaintance. And her background could be an asset to him in his chosen endeavors."

"Yes, yes, that's very true," said the Admiral thoughtfully. Mr. Binnacle was pleased. The Admiral's romantic sensibilities were being stirred. The narrative Mr. Binnacle had provided now held a brave, lonely heroine and a deserving hero bridging the chasm of birth and social class to unite in the bonds of love. The story only lacked a villain. It was too bad Miss Bank's father was no longer available to object to the match. Perhaps her brother might suffice. "Of course Michael Banks might not approve of such a match," said Mr. Binnacle softly.

"Michael Banks, damned, arrogant puppy!" growled the Admiral. "What business is it of his who his sister marries? No call to go objecting to Jack just because he doesn't make his living working in a bank!" Mr. Binnacle smiled. His fish had taken the bait.