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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2c255b2 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #60776 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60776) diff --git a/old/60776-8.txt b/old/60776-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 4e9e7ee..0000000 --- a/old/60776-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8337 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Transformation of Philip Jettan, by -Georgette Heyer and Stella Martin - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: The Transformation of Philip Jettan - -Author: Georgette Heyer - Stella Martin - -Illustrator: J.C. Leyendecker - -Release Date: November 25, 2019 [EBook #60776] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRANSFORMATION OF PHILIP JETTAN *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - THE TRANSFORMATION OF - PHILIP JETTAN - - GEORGETTE HEYER - - _Bibliographical Note_ - - First publication: Mills & Boon, London, 1923 - - The original edition was published with the subtitle - _A Comedy of Manners_, - and the author used the pseudonym Stella Martin. - The book was later published as _Powder and Patch_, - with Chapter Twenty deleted. - - - - - One - - The House of Jettan - - -If you searched among the Downs in Sussex, somewhere between Midhurst -and Brighthelmstone, inland a little, and nestling in modest seclusion -between two waves of hills, you would find Little Fittledean, a village -round which three gentlemen had built their homes. One chose the north -side, half a mile away, and on the slope of the Downs. He was Mr. -Winton, a dull man with no wife, but two children, James and Jennifer. -The second built his house west of the village, not far from the London -Road and Great Fittledean. He was one Sir Thomas Jettan. He chose his -site carefully, beside a wood, and laid out gardens after the Dutch -style. That was way back in the last century when Charles the Second -was King, and what had then been a glaring white erection, stark-naked -and blatant in its sylvan setting, was now, some seventy years later, a -fair place, creeper-hung, and made kindly by the passing of the years. -The Jettan who built it became inordinately proud of the house. Never -a day passed but he would strut round the grounds, looking at the nude -structure from a hundred different points of vantage. It was to be the -country seat of the Jettans in their old age; they were to think of it -almost as they would think of their children. It was never to be sold; -it was to pass from father to son and from son to grandson through -countless ages. Nor must it accrue to a female heir, be she never so -direct, for old Tom determined that the name of Jettan should always -be associated with the house. - -Old Tom propounded these notions to the whole countryside. All his -friends and his acquaintances were shown the white house and told -the tale of its owner's past misdemeanours and his present virtue--a -virtue due, he assured them, to the possession of so fair an estate. -No more would he pursue the butterfly existence that all his ancestors -had pursued before him. This house was his anchor and his interest; he -would rear his two sons to reverence it, and it might even be that the -tradition which held every Jettan to be a wild fellow at heart should -be broken at last. - -The neighbours laughed behind their hands at old Tom's childishness. -They dubbed the hitherto unnamed house "Tom's Pride," in good-humoured -raillery. - -Tom Jettan was busy thinking out a suitable name for his home when the -countryside's nickname came to his ears. He was not without humour in -spite of his vanity, and when the sobriquet had sunk into his brain, he -chuckled deep in his chest, and slapped his knee in appreciation. Not a -month later the neighbours were horrified to find, cunningly inserted -in the wrought-iron gates of the white house, a gilded scroll bearing -the legend, "Jettan's Pride." No little apprehension was felt amongst -them at having their secret joke thus discovered and utilised, and -those who next waited on Tom did so with an air of ashamed nervousness. -But Tom soon made it clear that, far from being offended, he was -grateful to them for finding an appropriate name for his home. - -His hopeful prophecy concerning the breaking of tradition was not -realised in either of his sons. The elder, Maurice, sowed all the wild -oats of which he was capable before taking up his abode at the Pride; -the other, Thomas, never ceased sowing wild oats, and showed no love -for the house whatsoever. - -When old Tom died he left a will which gave Maurice to understand that -if, by the time he was fifty years of age, he still refused to settle -down at the Pride, it was to pass to his brother and his brother's -heirs. - -Thomas counselled Maurice to marry and produce some children. - -"For damme if I do, my boy! The old man must have lost his faculties -to expect a Jettan to live in this hole! I tell ye flat, Maurice, I'll -not have the place. 'Tis you who are the elder, and you must assume -the--the responsibilities!" At that he fell a-chuckling, for he was an -irrepressible scamp. - -"Certainly I shall live here," answered Maurice. "Three months here, -and nine months--not here. What's to stop me?" - -"Does the will allow it?" asked Tom doubtfully. - -"It does not forbid it. And I shall get me a wife." - -At that Tom burst out laughing, but checked himself hurriedly as he met -his brother's reproving eye. - -"God save us, and the old gentleman but three days dead! Not that I -meant any disrespect, y'know. Faith, the old man 'ud be the first to -laugh with me, stap me if he wouldn't!" He stifled another laugh, and -shrugged his shoulders. "Or he would before he went crazy-pious over -this devilish great barn of a house. You'll never have the money to -keep it, Maurry," he added cheerfully, "let alone a wife." - -Maurice twirled his eyeglass, frowning. - -"My father has left even more than I expected," he said. - -"Oh ay! But it'll be gone after a week's play! God ha' mercy, Maurry, -do ye hope to husband it?" - -"Nay, I hope to husband a wife. The rest I'll leave to her." - -Tom came heavily to his feet. He stared at his brother, round-eyed. - -"Blister me, but I believe the place is turning you like the old -gentleman! Now, Maurry, Maurry, stiffen your back, man!" - -Maurice smiled. - -"It'll take more than the Pride to reform me, Tom. I'm thinking that -the place is too good to sell or throw away." - -"If I could lay my hand on two thousand guineas," said Tom, "anyone -could have the Pride for me!" - -Maurice looked up quickly. - -"Why, Tom, all I've got's yours, you know very well! Take what you -want--two thousand or twenty." - -"Devilish good of you, Maurry, but I'll not sponge on you yet. No, -don't start to argue with me, for my head's not strong enough what -with one thing and another. Tell me more of this wife of yours. Who is -it to be?" - -"I haven't decided," replied Maurice. He yawned slightly. "There are so -many to choose from." - -"Ay--you're an attractive devil--'pon my word you are! What d'ye say to -Lucy Farmer?" - -Maurice shuddered. - -"Spare me. I had thought of Marianne Tempest." - -"What, old Castlehill's daughter? She'd kill you in a month, lad." - -"But she is not--dowerless." - -"No. But think of it, Maurry! Think of it! A shrew at twenty!" - -"Then what do you think of Jane Butterfield?" - -Thomas pulled at his lip, irresolute. - -"I'm not decrying the girl, Maurice, but Lord! could you live with her?" - -"I've not essayed it," answered Maurice. - -"No, and marriage is so damned final! 'Tisn't as though ye could live -together for a month or so before ye made up your minds. I doubt the -girl would not consent to that." - -"And if she did consent, one would not desire to wed her," remarked -Maurice. "A pity. No, I believe I could not live with Jane." - -Thomas sat down again. - -"The truth of it is, Maurry, we Jettans must marry for love. There's -not one of us ever married without it, whether for money or no." - -"'Tis so unfashionable," objected Maurice. "One marries for -convenience. One may have fifty different loves." - -"What! All at once? I think you'd find that a trifle inconvenient, -Maurry! Lord! just fancy fifty loves, oh, the devil! And three's enough -to drive one crazed, bruise me if 'tis not." - -Maurice's thin lips twitched responsively. - -"Gad no! Fifty loves spread over a lifetime, and you're not bound to -one of them. There's bliss, Tom, you rogue!" - -Thomas shook a wise finger at him, his plump, good-humoured face solemn -all at once. - -"And not one of them's the true love, Maurry. For if she were, faith, -she'd not be one of fifty! Now, you take my advice, lad, and wait. -Damme, we'll not spoil the family record! - - - "A rakish youth, says the Jettan adage, - Marriage for love, and a staid old age. - -"I don't know that it's true about the staid old age, though. Maybe -'tis only those who wed for love who acquire virtue. Anyway, you'll not -break the second maxim, Maurry." - -"Oh?" smiled Maurice. "What's to prevent me?" - -Thomas had risen again. Now he slipped his arm in his brother's. - -"If it comes to prevention, old sobersides, I'm game. I'll make an -uproar in the church and carry off the bride. Gad, but 'twould be -amusing! Carry off one's brother's bride, under his stern nose. Devil -take it, Maurry, that's just what your nose is! I never thought on't -before--stern, grim, old--now, steady, Tom, my boy, or you'll be -laughing again with the old gentleman not yet underground!" - -Maurice waited for his brother's mirth to abate. - -"But, Tom, 'tis very well for you to counsel me not to wed without -love! I must marry, for 'tis certain you'll not, and we must have -heirs. What's to be done, I'd like to know?" - -"Wait, lad, wait! You're not so old that you can't afford to hold back -yet awhile." - -"I'm thirty-five, Tom." - -"Then you have fifteen years to run before you need settle down. Take -my advice, and wait!" - -The end of it was that Maurice did wait. For four years he continued -to rove through Europe, amusing himself in the usual way of gentlemen -of his day, but in 1729 he wrote a long letter from Paris to his -brother in London, declaring himself in love, and the lady an angel -of goodness, sweetness, amiability, and affection. He said much more -in this vein, all of which Tom had to read, yawning and chuckling by -turns. The lady was one Maria Marchant. She brought with her a fair -dowry and a placid disposition. So Tom wrote off to Maurice at once, -congratulating him, and bestowing his blessing on the alliance. He -desired his dear old Maurry to quit travelling, and to come home to his -affectionate brother Tom. - -In a postscript he added that he dropped five hundred guineas at -Newmarket, only to win fifteen hundred at dice the very next week, so -that had it not been for his plaguey ill-luck in the matter of a small -wager with Harry Besham, he would to-day be the most care-free of -mortals, instead of a jaded creature, creeping about in terror of the -bailiffs from hour to hour. - -After that there was no more correspondence. Neither brother felt that -there was anything further to be said, and they were not men to waste -their time writing to one another for no urgent matter. Thomas thought -very little more about Maurice's marriage. He supposed that the wedding -would take place in England before many months had gone by; possibly -Maurice would see fit to return at once, as he, Tom, had suggested. -In the meantime, there was nothing to be done. Tom laid his brother's -letter aside, and went on with his ordinary occupations. - -He lived in Half-Moon Street. His house was ruled by his cook, the wife -of Moggat, his valet-footman. She also ruled the hapless Moggat. Moggat -retaliated by ruling his jovial master as far as he was able, so one -might really say Mrs. Moggat ruled them all. As Tom was quite unaware -of this fact, it troubled him not a whit. - -A month after he had answered his brother's letter, Tom was disturbed -one morning while he sipped his chocolate with the news that a -gentleman wished to speak to him. Tom was in his bed-chamber, his round -person swathed in a silken wrapper of astonishing brightness. He had -not yet doffed his nightcap, and his wig lay on the dressing-table. - -The lean, long Moggat crept in at the door, which he seemed hardly to -open, and ahem'd directly behind his master. - -Tom was in the act of swallowing his chocolate, and as he had not heard -Moggat's slithering approach, the violent clearing of that worthy's -throat startled him not a little, and he choked. - -Tenderly solicitous, Moggat patted him on the back until the coughs and -splutters had abated. Tom bounced round in his chair to face the man. - -"Damn and curse it, Moggat! What d'ye mean by it? What d'ye mean by it, -I say? Crawling into a room to make a noise at me just as I'm drinking! -Yes, sir! Just as I'm drinking! Devil take you! D'ye hear me? Devil -take you!" - -Moggat listened in mournful silence. When Tom ceased for want -of breath, he bowed, and continued as though there had been no -interruption. - -"There is a gentleman below, sir, as desires to have speech with you." - -"A gentleman? Don't you know that gentlemen don't come calling at this -hour, ye ninny-pated jackass? Bring me some more chocolate!" - -"Yes, sir, a gentleman." - -"I tell you no gentleman would disturb another at this hour! Have done -now, Moggat!" - -"And although I told the gentleman, sir, as how my master was not yet -robed and accordingly could not see any visitors, he said it was of no -consequence to him whatsoever, and he would be obliged to you to ask -him upstairs at once, sir. So I--" - -"Confound his impudence!" growled Tom. "What's his name?" - -"The gentleman, sir, on my asking what name I was to tell you, gave me -to understand that it was of no matter." - -"Devil take him! Show him out, Moggat! Like as not 'tis one of these -cursed bailiffs. Why, you fool, what d'ye mean by letting him in?" - -Moggat sighed in patient resignation. - -"If you will allow me to say so, sir, this gentleman is not a bailiff." - -"Well, who is he?" - -"I regret, sir, I do not know." - -"You're a fool! What's this fellow like?" - -"The gentleman"--Moggat laid ever so little stress on the word--"is -tall, sir, and--er--slim. He is somewhat dark as regards eyes and -brows, and he is dressed, if I may say so, exceedingly modishly, with -a point-edged hat, and very full-skirted puce coat, laced, French -fashion, with--" - -Tom snatched his nightcap off and threw it at Moggat. - -"Numskull! D'ye think I want a list of his clothes? Show him out, the -swarthy rogue! Show him out!" - -Moggat picked up the nightcap, and smoothed it sadly. - -"The gentleman seems anxious to see you, sir." - -"Ay! Trying to dun me, the rascal! Don't I know it! Blustering and--" - -"No, sir," said Moggat firmly. "I could not truthfully say that the -gentleman blustered. Indeed, sir, if I may say so, I think him a -singularly quiet, cool gentleman. Very soft-spoken, sir--oh, very -soft-spoken!" - -"Take him away!" shouted Tom. "I tell you I'll not be pestered at this -hour! I might be asleep, damme! Tell the fellow to come again at a -godly time--not at dawn! Now, don't try to argue, Moggat! I tell you, -if it were my brother himself, I'd not see him!" - -Moggat bowed again. - -"I will hinform the gentleman, sir." - -When the door closed behind Moggat, Tom leaned back in his chair and -picked up one of his letters. Not five minutes later the door creaked -again. Tom turned, to find Moggat at his elbow. - -"Eh? What d'ye want?" - -"Hif you please, sir, the gentleman says as how he is your brother," -said Moggat gently. - -Tom jumped as though he had been shot. - -"What? My brother? What d'ye mean? My brother?" - -"Sir Maurice, sir." - -Up flew Tom, catching at his wig and cramming it on his head all awry. - -"Thunder an' turf! Maurry! Here, you raving wooden-pate! How dare you -leave my brother downstairs? How dare you, I say?" He wrapped himself -more tightly in his robe than ever, and dashed headlong out of the -room, down the stairs to where Maurice awaited him. - -Sir Maurice was standing by the window in the library, drumming his -fingers on the sill. At his brother's tempestuous entrance he turned -and bowed. - -"A nice welcome you give me, Tom! 'Tell him to come again at a godly -time--I'd not see him if 'twere my brother himself,' forsooth!" - -Thomas hopped across the room and seized both Maurice's long, thin -hands in his plump, chubby ones. - -"My dear Maurry! My dear old fellow! I'd no notion 'twas you! My dolt -of a lackey--but there! When did you arrive in England?" - -"A week ago. I have been at the Pride." - -"A week? What a plague d'ye mean by not coming to me till now, ye -rogue?" As he spoke, Tom thrust Maurice into a chair, and himself sat -down opposite him, beaming with pleasure. - -Maurice leaned back, crossing his legs. A little smile flickered across -his mouth, but his eyes were solemn as he answered. - -"I had first to see my wife installed in her new home," he said. - -For a moment Tom stared at him. - -"Wife? Tare an' 'ouns, ye don't waste your time! Where and when did you -marry the lady?" - -"Three weeks ago, at Paris. Now I have come home to fulfil the last -part of the Jettan adage." - -"God ha' mercy!" ejaculated Thomas. "Not a staid old age, lad! Not you?" - -"Something like it," nodded Maurice. "Wait till you have seen my wife!" - -"Ay, I'm waiting," said Tom. "What's to do now, then? The country -squire, and half a dozen children?" - -The grey eyes twinkled. - -"Tom, I'll thank you not to be so coarse." - -"Coarse? _Coarse?_ Gad, Maurice, what's come over you?" - -"I am a married man," replied Maurice. "As such I have--er--learned to -guard my tongue. My wife--" - -"Maurry, couldn't ye call the lady by her name?" begged Tom. "Faith, I -can't bear those two words so often, proud though ye may be of them." - -Maurice flushed slightly and smiled. - -"Maria, then. She is a very--sweet, delicate lady." - -"Lord! I'd made up my mind you'd wed a bold, strapping wench with a -saucy smile, Maurry!" - -"I? Good God, no! My w--Maria is gentle, and meek, and--" - -"Ay, ay, Maurry, I know!" hastily interrupted Thomas. "I must see her -for myself, so don't spoil the surprise for me, there's a good fellow! -Now have you breakfasted? No? Then come upstairs with me. Where's -that rascal Moggat? Moggat! Moggat! Ah, there you are! Go and prepare -breakfast at once, man! And bring some more chocolate to my room." -He wrapped the voluminous robe about him once more, and, seizing his -brother by the arm, led him forth to the staircase. - - * * * * * - -Thus it was that Maurice Jettan brought home his bride. She was a -gentle lady, with a sweet disposition; she adored her handsome husband, -and duly presented him with a son, Philip. When the babe was shown -to him, Tom discovered that he was a true Jettan, with all their -characteristics. His father confessed that he saw no resemblance -either to himself or to anyone, but he was nevertheless gratified by -his brother's remarks. Tom chuckled mightily and prophesied that young -Philip would prove himself a Jettan in more ways than one. He hinted at -a youth which should surpass his father's in brilliancy, and Maurice -smiled, looking proudly down at the red, crumpled face. - -"And," concluded Tom, "he'll have a papa who can advise him in all -matters of fashion better than any man I know. Why, Maurice, you will -show him the fashionable world! You must take care you do not stagnate -here. You must not fall out of Society." - -Maurice was still smiling down at his offspring. - -"No. I must not fall out, Tom. The youngster will need me later on." - - * * * * * - -For five years he continued to take his place in London Society, but -he found that the desire for excitement and gaiety was growing less -and less within him. The death of Maria gave this desire the _coup de -grâce_. Maurice took his small son down to the Pride as soon as he had -recovered from the first shock of bereavement, and after that for some -years he rarely visited London, except sometimes to see his brother or -his tailor. Then he seemed to grow restless again, and started to spend -more time with Tom. Bit by bit he re-entered the world he had quitted, -yet never did he give himself up to it as once he had done. The Pride -seemed to call him, and little Philip held his heart with both hands. -Thereafter he spent his time between London and the Pride. When he felt -restless, he packed his bags and flitted either to London or to Paris; -when the restlessness had passed, back he came to the Pride, there to -spend two or three peaceful months. - -When Philip was eighteen, he took him to London. Philip was very -thoroughly bored. Sir Maurice concluded that he was too young to be -introduced into Society, and he sent him back to the country, thinking -that in two or three years' time the lad would be only too anxious to -leave it. - -But the years slipped by, and Philip showed no desire to follow in -his father's footsteps. He refused to go on the Grand Tour; he cared -nothing for Dress or Fashionable Manners; he despised the life of -Courts; he preferred to remain in the country, usurping, to a great -extent, his father's position as squire. He was now some twenty-three -years old, tall and handsome, but, as his father told his uncle, "an -unpolished cub." - - - - - Two - - In Which Is Presented Mistress Cleone Charteris - - -A while back I spoke of three gentlemen who built their homes round -Little Fittledean. Of one I said but little, of the second I spoke -at length and to the tune of one whole chapter. It now behoves me to -mention the third gentleman, who chose his site on the outskirts of -the village, some two miles from Jettan's Pride, and to the east. To -reach it you must walk along the main street until the cottages grow -sparse and yet more sparse, and the cobblestones and pavement cease -altogether. The street turns then into a lane with trees flanking -it and grass growing to the sides. A few steps further, and the -moss-covered roof of Sharley House peeps above a high holly hedge which -screens the place from the passer-by. - -There lived Mr. Charteris, and his father and grandfather before him. -Mr. Charteris was the happy possessor of a wife and a daughter. It is -with the daughter that I am most concerned. - -Her name was Cleone, and she was very lovely. She had thick gold curls, -eyes of cornflower blue, and a pair of red lips that pouted or smiled -in equal fascination. She was just eighteen, and the joy and despair of -all the young men of the countryside. Particularly was she the despair -of Mr. Philip Jettan. - -Philip was head over ears in love with Cleone. He had been so ever -since she returned from the convent where she had received a slight -education. Before her departure for this convent, she and Philip, James -and Jennifer Winton, had played together and quarrelled together since -any of them could walk. Then Cleone went away to acquire polish, and -the two boys thought very little more about her, until she returned, -and then they thought of nothing else but her. The romping playfellow -was gone for ever, but in her place was a Vision. Philip and James -began to eye one another askance. - -Delighted by the new state of affairs, Cleone queened it right royally, -and played one young man against the other. But it was not long before -she found herself thinking far more about Mr. Jettan than was seemly. -He began to haunt her dreams, and when he came to visit the house her -heart fluttered a little and showed a tendency to jump into her throat. - -Cleone was stern with her heart, for there was much in Mr. Jettan that -did not meet with her approval. However masterful and handsome he might -be--and Philip was both--he was distressingly boorish in many ways. -Before her return to Sharley House Cleone had spent a few months with -her aunt, who lived in Town. Several men had made very elegant love to -her and showered compliments about her golden head. She had not cared -the snap of her fingers for any one of them, but their graceful homage -was very gratifying. Philip's speech was direct and purposeful, and his -compliments were never neat. His clothes also left much to be desired. -Cleone had an eye for colour and style; she liked her cavaliers to be -_à la mode_. Sir Matthew Trelawney, for instance, had affected the most -wonderful stockings, clocked with butterflies; Frederick King wore -so excellently fitting a coat that, it was said, he required three -men to ease him into it. Philip's coat was made for comfort; he would -have scorned the stockings of Matthew Trelawney. He even refused to -buy a wig, but wore his own brown hair brushed back from his face and -tied loosely at his neck with a piece of black ribbon. No powder, no -curls, unpolished nails, and an unpainted face--guiltless, too, of even -the smallest patch--it was, thought Cleone, enough to make one weep. -Nevertheless, she did not weep, because, for one thing, it would have -made her eyes red, and another, it would be of very little use. Philip -must be reformed, since she--well, since she did not dislike him. - -At the present time Philip had just returned from Town, whither he -had been sent by his father, ostensibly to transact some business -concerning the estate, but really that his unfashionable soul might -succumb to the delights of Town. Philip was not aware of this secret -purpose, but Cleone knew all about it. She was very fond of Sir -Maurice, and he of her. When Sir Maurice saw which way Philip looked -for a wife, he was pleased enough, although a Jettan might have cast -his eyes much higher. But Sir Maurice, mindful of the old adage, was -content to let things run their course. All that worried him was the -apparent obduracy of his son in the matter of the first prophecy. He -loved Philip, he did not wish to lose him, he liked his companionship, -but--"By God, sir, you are a damned dull dog!" - -At that young Philip's straight brows drew close over the bridge of his -nose, only to relax again as he smiled. - -"Well, sir, I hold two gay dogs in the family to be enough." - -Sir Maurice's mouth quivered responsively. - -"What's that, Philip? Do you seek to reprove me?" - -"Not a whit, sir. You are you, but I--am I." - -"So it seems," said his father. "And you being yourself have fallen in -love with a mighty pretty child; still being yourself, you are like to -be left disconsolate." - -Philip had flushed slightly at the reference to Cleone. The end of the -sentence left him frowning. - -"What mean you, sir?" - -The shrewd grey eyes, so like his own, regarded him pityingly. - -"Little Mistress Cleone will have none of you an you fail to mend your -ways, my son. Do you not know it? What has that dainty piece to do with -a raw clodhopper like yourself?" - -Philip answered low. - -"If Mistress Cleone gives me her love it will be for me as I am. She is -worthy a man, not a powdered, ruffled beau." - -"A man! _Sacré tonnerre_, 'tis what you are, _hein_? Philip, child, get -you to Town to your uncle and buy a wig." - -"No, sir, I thank you. I shall do very well without a wig." - -Sir Maurice drove his cane downwards at the floor in exasperation. - -"_Mille diables!_ You'll to Town as I say, defiant boy! You may finish -the business with that scoundrel Jenkins while you are about it!" - -Philip nodded. - -"That I will do, sir, since you wish it." - -"Bah!" retorted his father. - - * * * * * - -He had gone; now he had come back, the business details settled to -his satisfaction, but with no wig. Sir Maurice was pleased to see -him again, more pleased than he appeared, as Philip was well aware. -He listened to what his son had to tell him of Tom Jettan, failed to -glean any of the latest society gossip, and dismissed Philip from his -presence. - -Half an hour later Philip rode in at the gates of Sharley House, -sitting straight in his saddle, a pulse in his throat throbbing in -anticipation. - -Cleone saw him coming. She was seated in the parlour window, -embroidering in a languid fashion. Truth to tell, she was tired of her -own company and not at all averse from seeing Philip. As he passed the -window she bent forward a little, smiling down at him. Philip saw her -at once; indeed, he had been eyeing every window of the warm, red house -in the hope that she might be sitting in one. He reined in his horse -and bowed to her, hat in hand. - -Cleone opened the casement wider, leaning over the sill, her golden -curls falling forward under the strings of her cap. - -"Why, sir, are you back already?" she asked, dimpling. - -"Already!" he echoed. "It has been years! Ten years, Cleone!" - -"Pooh!" she said. "Ten days--not a moment more!" - -"Is that all it has seemed to you?" he said. - -Cleone's cheek became faintly tinged with pink. - -"What more?" she retorted. "'Tis all it is!" - -Into Philip's eyes came a gleam of triumph. - -"Aha! You've counted, then! Oh, Cleone!" - -The roguish look fled. - -"Oh!" cried Cleone, pouting. "How--how--monstrous--" - -"Monstrous what, dear Cleone?" - -"Impudent!" she ended. "I declare I won't see you!" As if to add weight -to this statement, she shut the casement and moved away into the room. - -Presently, however, she relented, and tripped downstairs to the -withdrawing-room, where she found Mr. Jettan paying his respects to her -mamma. She curtseyed very demurely, allowed him to kiss the tips of her -fingers, and seated herself beside Madam Charteris. - -Madam patted her hand. - -"Well, child, here is Philip returned from Town with not a word to tell -us of his gaiety!" - -Cleone raised her eyes to survey Philip. - -"Mamma, there is naught to tell. Philip is such a staid, sober person." - -"Tut-tut!" said her mother. "Now, Philip, tell us all! Did you not meet -_one_ beauty to whom you lost your heart?" - -"No, madam," answered Philip. "The painted society dames attract me not -at all." His eyes rested on Cleone as he spoke. - -"I dare say you've not yet heard the news?" Cleone said, after a slight -pause. "Or did Sir Maurice tell you?" - -"No--that is, I do not know. What is it? Good news?" - -"It remains to be seen," she replied. "'Tis that Mr. Bancroft is to -return! What think you of that?" - -Philip stiffened. - -"Bancroft? Sir Harold's son?" - -"Yes, Henry Bancroft. Is it not exciting? Only think--he has been away -nigh on eight years! Why, he must be--" she began to count on her -rosy-tipped fingers "--twenty-six, or twenty-seven. Oh, a man! I do so -wonder what he is like now!" - -"H'm!" remarked Philip. His voice held no enthusiasm. "What does he -want here?" - -Cleone's long lashes fluttered down to hide the laugh in her eyes. - -"To see his papa, of course. After so many years!" - -Philip gave vent to a sound very like a snort. - -"I'll wager there's a more potent reason! Else had he come home ere -now." - -"Well, I will tell you. Papa rode over to Great Fittledean two days -ago, and he found Sir Harold mightily amused, did he not, Mamma?" - -Madam Charteris assented vaguely. She was stitching at a length of -satin, content to drop out of the conversation. - -"Yes. It seems that Henry--" - -"Who?" Philip straightened in his chair. - -"Mr. Bancroft," said Cleone. A smile trembled on her lips. "It seems -that Mr. Bancroft has had occasion to fight a duel. Is it not too -dreadful?" - -Philip agreed with more heartiness than he had yet shown. - -"I am sure I do not know why gentlemen must fight. 'Tis very terrible, -I think. But, of course, 'tis monstrous gallant and exciting. And poor -Mr. Bancroft has been advised to leave London for a while, because some -great personage is angered. Papa did not say who was the gentleman he -fought, but Sir Harold was vastly amused." She glanced up at Philip, in -time to catch sight of the scornful frown on his face. "Oh, Philip, do -_you_ know? Have you perhaps heard?" - -"No one who has been in Town this last week could fail to have heard," -said Philip shortly. Then, very abruptly, he changed the subject. - - * * * * * - -When Philip came back to the Pride it was close on the dinner hour. He -walked slowly upstairs to change his clothes, for on that point Sir -Maurice was obdurate. He would not allow buckskins or riding-boots at -his table. He himself was fastidious to a fault. Every evening he -donned stiff satins and velvets; his thin face was painted, powdered -and patched; his wig tied with great precision in the nape of his neck. -He walked now with a stick, but his carriage was still fairly upright. -The stick was, as Philip told him, a mere affectation. - -Philip was rather silent during the first part of the meal, but when -the lackeys left the room, and Sir Maurice pushed the port towards him, -he spoke suddenly, as if the words had hovered on his tongue for some -time. - -"Father, do you hear that Bancroft is to return?" - -Sir Maurice selected a nut from the dish before him, cracking it -between his long, white fingers. - -"I believe someone told me. What of it?" - -"You said nothing of it to me." - -The grey eyes lifted. - -"Is he a friend of yours? I did not know." - -"A friend!" Philip set his glass down with a snap. "Hardly, sir!" - -"Now what's to do?" asked his father. "Why the scorn?" - -"Sir, if you could but hear the gossip about him!" - -"I have no doubt I should be vastly entertained," said Sir Maurice. -"What's the tale?" - -"The fellow is for ever embroiling himself in some low quarrel. This -time it is Lady Marchand. Faugh!" - -"Lady Marchand? Not Dolly Marchand?" - -"I believe so. Why, sir, do you know her?" - -"I--er--knew her mother. Tell me, is she as charming?" - -"As I know neither her mother, nor Lady Marchand--" - -Sir Maurice sighed. - -"No. Of course not. Go on." - -"It's a damned sordid tale, sir, and I'll spare you the details. Lord -Marchand and Bancroft fought out at Ipswich. Bancroft wounded him in -the lung, and 'tis said he'll not recover." - -"Clumsy," remarked Sir Maurice. "So Bancroft retires?" - -"The Prince of Wales is furious, as well he might be. And Bancroft -brings himself and his morals here." - -A faint smile hovered on Sir Maurice's lips. - -"And Mr. Jettan is righteously indignant. From which I gather that -Mistress Cleone is prepared to welcome this slayer of hearts. You'd -best have bought a wig, Philip." - -In spite of himself, Philip laughed. - -"Sir, you are incorrigible!" - -"_Faute de mieux._ And whence, if I may ask, did you glean all -this--sordid information, oh my righteous son?" - -"From Tom, of course. He could talk of nothing else." - -"Alack! The saint is still upon his pedestal. In fact, the story was -forced upon you. Philip, you enrage me." He looked up and met his son's -amused glance. "Yes, child, I am enraged. Pass the wine." - -Philip pushed the decanter towards him. His rather stern eyes were -twinkling. - -"I'll swear no one ever before possessed so outrageous a sire," -he said. "I've heard of some who disinherited their sons for -disreputable behaviour, but it seems you are like to disinherit me for -irreproachable conduct." - -"It's a _piquante_ situation," agreed Sir Maurice. "But I shan't -disinherit you." - -"No?" - -"Where's the use? With no money you could not hope to--ah--follow in my -footsteps. I've a mind to turn you out of the house, though." - -"Half a mind," corrected Philip. "The other half, sir, rejoices in my -unblemished reputation." - -"Does it?" Sir Maurice was mildly interested. "Faith, I did not know -that." - -"Sir, were I to break away and become as flighty as you wish, no one -would be more aghast than yourself." - -"You infer, my son, that I desire you to follow not in my footsteps, -but in--let us say, Bancroft's. Nothing could more thoroughly disgust -me." - -"Ah!" Philip leaned forward eagerly. "You admit that?" - -Sir Maurice sipped his wine. - -"Certainly. I abhor clumsiness in an _affaire_." He watched Philip -draw back. "An _affaire_ of the heart should be daintily conducted. A -Jettan should bear in mind that for him there can be only one love; -the others," he waved his hand, "should be treated with the delicacy -that they deserve. Above all, they should end lightly. I would have no -woman the worse for you, child, but I would have you know women and the -world. I would have you experience the pleasures and the displeasures -of Polite Society; I would have you taste the joys of Hazard, and the -exhilaration of your sword against another's; I would have you take -pains in the selection of a cravat, or the designing of a vest; I would -have you learn the way to turn a neat compliment and a pretty phrase; -above all, I would have you know yourself, your fellow-men, and the -world." He paused, studying his son. Then he smiled. "Well? What have -you to say to my peroration?" - -Philip answered simply, and in admiration. - -"Why, sir, that I am spellbound by your fluency. In truth, Father, you -have a remarkably beautiful voice." - -"Bah!" snapped Sir Maurice. - - - - - Three - - Mr. Bancroft Brings Trouble into Little Fittledean - - -On a particularly sunny morning, some five or six days after Mr. -Jettan's return from London town, the main street of Little Fittledean -was made brighter still by the passage of an Apparition. - -The Apparition wore a coat of palest apricot cloth, with a flowered -vest of fine brocade, and startling white small-clothes. Red-heeled -shoes were on his feet, and his stockings were adorned by sprawling -golden clocks. He carried an amber-clouded cane and a jewelled -snuff-box, while ever and anon he raised a cobwebby handkerchief to his -aristocratic nose. He minced down the street towards the market-place, -followed by the awe-stricken glances of an amazed population. The -inhabitants of the village had never seen anything so wonderful or so -remarkable as this gorgeous gentleman. They watched the high red heels -click along the road, and admired the beautiful set of the Apparition's -coat. A group of children stopped playing to stare, open-mouthed. The -Apparition heeded them not. It may have been that he was oblivious of -their existence. Not even when a piping treble requested "John" to -"look'ee now at them shoes!" did he show that he realised the presence -of anyone but himself in the village. He minced on, very languid, and -suitably bored. - -Further down the street a gentleman had reined in his horse to speak to -a curtseying dame, who plucked shyly at her apron, smiling up at him. -Presently he, too, became aware of the sound of clicking heels. Even as -the buxom dame gazed past him with wide eyes, he looked up and saw the -Apparition. - -I would not have you think that the Apparition noticed him. On he went, -swinging his cane and yawning. - -Sir Maurice turned in his saddle the better to see those pearly -small-clothes. His horse cocked both ears inquiringly and blew down his -nostrils. - -"Well, I'm damned!" said Sir Maurice beneath his breath. "Puppy!" - -Mr. Bancroft proceeded leisurely towards the market-place. He was very, -very bored, and he had walked over from Great Fittledean in search -of possible amusement. He almost despaired of finding it, but Fate -favoured him. - -Crossing the market-place, a basket on her arm and a very becoming hat -tied over her curls, was Mistress Cleone. She was tripping along quite -unconcernedly, her cheeks just tinged with colour, and her big eyes -bluer than ever. Mr. Bancroft lost a little of his languor. It might -almost be said that his eye brightened. - -Cleone was coming towards him, and it was markedly evident that Mr. -Bancroft made no attempt to step aside. On the contrary, he appeared -to be engrossed in the contemplation of a cat right away on his left. -Cleone was peeping inside her basket; she did not perceive Mr. Bancroft -until she had walked into him. Then she gave a startled cry, fell back, -and stared. - -Mr. Bancroft was profuse in his apologies. He swept off his hat and -made her a low bow, sinking back and back on his bent left leg. - -"Oh!" gasped Cleone, becomingly flustered. "Gracious! Is it you, Mr. -Bancroft?" - -Mr. Bancroft said that it was. He was very modest about it, and he -dubbed himself a clodhopping oaf so to have discommoded Cleone. - -Cleone dimpled, curtseyed, and prepared to go on her way. This, -however, Mr. Bancroft would not allow. He insisted on taking her -basket, which, he protested, was monstrous heavy for her fair hands to -support. - -Cleone looked up at him provocatively. - -"Sir, I fear I am a stranger to you!" - -"A stranger! Why, madam, is it likely that once I had seen I could ever -forget your sweet face?" cried Mr. Bancroft. "Those blue eyes, madam, -left a deep imprint on my soul; those soft lips--" - -"But," interrupted Cleone, blushing, "my name escaped your memory. -Confess, Mr. Bancroft, it is indeed so?" - -Mr. Bancroft waved his handkerchief with a superb gesture. - -"A name--bah! What is it? 'Tis the face that remains with me. Names do, -indeed, escape me. How could a mere name conjure up this fair image?" -He bowed slightly. "Your name should be Venus, madam." - -"Sir!" Cleone was shocked. "I am Cleone Charteris, Mr. Bancroft," she -said primly. - -Mr. Bancroft was quite equal to the occasion. - -"My dear," he said fondly, "do you think I did not know it?" - -Cleone shook her head. - -"You did not know it. And, indeed, I am prodigiously hurt and offended -that you should have forgot me." - -"Forgot you?" Mr. Bancroft was derisive. "Forget the little nymph who -so tormented me in my youth? Fie on you, madam!" - -"Oh, I did not! How can you say so, sir? 'Twas you who were always so -provoking! Do you remember how we played? You and Jennifer and I and -Philip--oh, and James." - -"The games I remember," he answered. "But Jennifer, no. And who are -Philip and James?" - -"You've a monstrous short memory," reproved Cleone. "Of course you -remember Philip Jettan?" - -"How could I hope to remember anyone but your fair self?" he protested. -"Could I be sensible of another's presence when you were there?" - -Cleone giggled. She found Mr. Bancroft's compliments very entertaining -and novel. - -"You are quite ridiculous, sir. And this is my home." - -"Alas!" sighed Mr. Bancroft. "I would it were a mile away." He opened -the gate and held it for her, bowing. "May I pay my respects to Madam -Charteris?" he begged. - -"If you please, sir," said Cleone, eyes cast down. - -They found madam in the hall, speaking to one of the servants. When she -saw the resplendent Mr. Bancroft she gasped, and fell back a pace. - -Bancroft stepped forward, hat in hand. - -"I dare not hope for recognition, madam," he bowed. "Henry Bancroft -begs you will allow him to kiss your hand." - -Madam Charteris extended it weakly. - -"Henry Bancroft? Gracious heaven, is it indeed you?" - -Bancroft kissed the tips of her fingers, holding them lightly to his -mouth with two fingers and a thumb. - -"I met Mistress Cleone in the market-place," he told her. "Conceive my -surprise, madam, my joyful ecstasy!" - -"Indeed!" stammered madam. "In the market-place--to be sure." - -"Mr. Bancroft was so kind as to relieve me of my basket," explained her -daughter. "He pretends that he had not forgot me, Mamma! But he cannot -deceive me." - -"He never sought to deceive you, Mistress Cleone. He spoke sooth when -he said your image had remained with him throughout." - -"Take him into the garden, Cleone," begged madam. "He will wish to see -your papa." - -It had not occurred to Mr. Bancroft, but he swallowed it with a good -grace. - -"Will you conduct me thither, Mistress Cleone?" He bowed, one arm -extended. - -Cleone laid the tips of her fingers on the arm. - -"Certainly, sir. We shall find Papa among the roses." They walked to -the door. - -"The roses!" sighed Mr. Bancroft. "A fit setting for your beauty, dear -Cleone." - -Cleone gave a little gurgle of laughter. - -"'Tis Papa's beauty they frame, sir, not mine," she replied. - -Twenty minutes later Sir Maurice walked into the rose-garden to find -Bancroft and Cleone seated in an arbour engaged in close converse, -while Mr. Charteris nipped off the dead flowers nearby. - -Mr. Charteris welcomed his visitor with a wave of his large scissors. - -"Good day, Sir Maurice! What a very pleasant, warm day it is, to be -sure! Did you ride over to see us?" - -Sir Maurice drew him apart. - -"I met that--that rainbow in the village. What a plague is it? What -does he do here?" - -Mr. Charteris' chubby countenance was wreathed in a great, sly smile, -suspiciously like a grin. - -"Have you ever seen aught to equal it?" he chuckled. "'Tis young -Bancroft--in seclusion." - -"I guessed as much. In seclusion, is he? Puppy!" - -Mr. Charteris held up his hands. - -"Oh, but Sir Maurice! A mighty soft-spoken youth--a polished gentleman, -I assure you." - -"Polished coxcomb!" snapped Sir Maurice. "Confound his impudence!" He -turned and walked towards the arbour. - -Cleone rose and came forward. - -"Why, Sir Maurice! I did not see you!" - -Sir Maurice raised both her hands to his lips. - -"You were otherwise engaged, my dear. Will you present your cavalier?" - -Cleone frowned upon him. - -"Sir Maurice--! This is Mr. Bancroft, sir. Mr. Bancroft, Sir Maurice -Jettan." - -Mr. Bancroft's hat swept the ground. His powdered head was bent. - -"I am delighted to renew my acquaintance with you, sir." - -Sir Maurice inclined his head. - -"I hear you intend to honour Fittledean for some few weeks?" he said. -An inward laugh seemed to shake him. "You must meet my son, Philip." - -"Nothing could give me more pleasure," Bancroft assured him. "I shall -hope to do so at once. I am transported to meet such old friends, and -to find that one"--he bowed to Cleone--"had not forgot me." - -"H'm!" said Sir Maurice cryptically. Suddenly he smiled upon the -younger man. "I have ridden over to beg Mr. Charteris to honour me at -dinner on Wednesday--" - -"Delighted, delighted!" nodded Charteris, who had joined them. - -"--with madam and Cleone. You'll come, my dear? I have already spoken -to your mamma." - -Cleone slipped her hand in his arm. - -"Why, it's very kind of you, Sir Maurice. Thank you very much." - -He patted the little hand. Then he again transferred his attention to -Mr. Bancroft. - -"I trust you too will honour us, sir?" - -"It is prodigious amiable of you, sir. I hasten to accept. On -Wednesday, I think you said? With all the pleasure on earth!" - -"Cleone, my dear, give me your arm as far as that rose-bush. You shall -choose me a button-hole, if you will. No, no, Charteris, with her own -fair fingers!" He bore Cleone away to the other end of the garden, -leaving Mr. Bancroft disconsolate. When they were out of hearing Sir -Maurice looked down into the roguish blue eyes. "My dear, you are a -minx." - -Cleone dimpled charmingly. - -"I don't know why you should say so, sir." - -"Of course not," agreed Sir Maurice. "Now what is the game? It's to -make Philip jealous, eh?" - -"Sir! How can you?" - -"My love, I know all about you, for I am an old man. Make Philip -jealous by all means." - -"I'm sure I never--" - -"Of course not. But I think, with you, that it would be a very good -plan. The boy is too stolid and cock-sure." - -"Cock--Oh, indeed!" - -"So if you shake Philip up from his toes to his head--you'll earn a -father's blessing." - -Cleone controlled a trembling lip. - -"Sir--you are--a very naughty--conspirator." - -"We'll leave it at that," said Sir Maurice. "Now choose me a rose, -little witch. Gad, if I were ten years younger I'd make Philip jealous -myself!" - -Cleone tip-toed, her hands on his shoulders. - -"You are very, very wicked," she told him gravely. - -Sir Maurice kissed her. - -"So are you, minx, and I want you for my daughter. We are so well -suited." - -Cleone blushed fiery red and hid her face in his coat. - - * * * * * - -Sir Maurice rode home wrapped in thought. Now and again he chuckled -softly to himself, but when later he met his son he was as solemn as -ever. - -Philip came into the library, riding-whip in hand. He had been on the -fields all the morning, and Sir Maurice eyed his boots with disfavour. -Philip sank into a chair. - -"Two of the big meadows are cut, sir. We should finish by next week." -He glanced anxiously out of the window. "I hope the rain holds off." - -"Oh, it will," replied his father placidly. - -"I am not so sure. Last summer the hay was black. Did you--er--did you -ride into the village?" - -"I did." - -"And--and did you go to--Sharley House?" - -"Ay." - -"Are they--did they accept?" Philip played with his whip, feigning -unconcern. - -"They did. I met that fellow Bancroft." - -"Oh!" said Philip. "Where?" - -"In the rose-garden," yawned Sir Maurice. - -The whip fell to the ground. - -"What? In the rose-garden? Whose rose-garden?" - -"At Sharley House, of course." - -"Where--was--What was he doing there?" - -"He was sitting in the arbour, talking to Cleone." - -"Confound him!" growled Philip, as if his worst fears were realised. -"What's he like?" - -Sir Maurice glanced across at him. - -"He is about your height--perhaps a little taller. He--ah--seems to -have a soft tongue and an engaging manner." - -"Oh, has he?" Philip's voice was startlingly grim. - -"He and Cleone were renewing their old friendship." - -"Oh, were they? What old friendship? He was never our friend!" - -"No, I suppose not," said Sir Maurice innocently. "He is some six or -seven years older than you, is he not?" - -"Five!" said Philip emphatically. - -"Only five? Of course, he looks and seems older, but he has seen more -of the world, which accounts for it." - -To this Philip vouchsafed no answer at all, but he looked at his father -with some suspicion. Sir Maurice allowed two or three minutes to elapse -before he spoke again. - -"By the way, Philip, Bancroft dines with us on Wednesday." - -Up sprang Philip in great annoyance. - -"What's that, sir? Dines here, and on Wednesday? Surely you did not -invite the fellow?" - -"But I did," answered Sir Maurice blandly. "Why not?" - -"Why not? What do we want with him?" - -"It remains to be seen." Sir Maurice hid a smile. "Bancroft is most -desirous of meeting you." - -Philip made a sound betwixt a grunt and a snort. - -"More like he wishes to pursue his acquaintance with Cl--Mistress -Cleone," he retorted. - -"Well, she's a pretty piece," said his father. - -Philip glared at him. - -"If I find him annoying Cleone with his damned officious attentions, -I'll--I'll--" - -"Oh, I do not think she is annoyed," replied Sir Maurice. - -At that Philip stalked out of the room, leaving his father a prey to -indecent mirth. - - - - - Four - - The Trouble Comes to a Head - - -At half-past five on Wednesday Mr. Henry Bancroft was ushered into the -withdrawing-room at the Pride. He was, as he had intended he should be, -the last to arrive. - -Sir Maurice stood in front of the empty grate, talking to Mr. -Charteris; madam sat on a couch, her daughter beside her, and Philip -nearby. They all looked up as Mr. Bancroft was announced, and -Philip rose, for the first time in his life acutely conscious of an -ill-fitting coat and unpowdered hair. - -Mr. Bancroft was a dream of lilac and rose. He might have been dressed -for a ball, thought Cleone. Diamonds and rubies flashed from his -buckles, and from his cravat; a diamond clasp was above the riband that -tied his wig. He minced forward daintily and bowed, one be-ringed hand -over his heart. - -Sir Maurice came forward, very stately in black with touches of purple. - -"Ah, Mr. Bancroft! I need not present you to the ladies, I know." -He paused to allow Bancroft to throw a languishing glance towards -the couch. "I think you and my son are not altogether unknown to one -another?" - -Bancroft turned on his heel to face Philip. He bowed again, slightly -flourishing his handkerchief. - -"My playmate of long ago," he murmured. "Your very obedient, Mr. -Jettan." - -Philip returned the bow awkwardly. - -"I am very pleased to meet you again, sir," he said, determined to be -polite to this most obnoxious guest. "Do you--er--intend to make a long -stay?" - -Bancroft raised his shoulders and spread out his hands. - -"I had thought not, sir, but now"--another glance was cast at -Cleone--"I think--perhaps--!" He smiled, running quick, appraising eyes -over Philip's person. "Do you know, sir, I swear I'd not have known -you. You have grown prodigiously." - -Cleone broke into the conversation. - -"You were so much older than Philip or James or me, Mr. Bancroft!" - -Instantly he swept round. - -"I thank you for the past tense, Mistress Cleone! At least, I am no -longer so aged." - -"Why, sir, have you lost your years?" she asked. - -"In your company, yes, madam. Can you wonder?" - -"Oh, I am monstrous flattered, sir!" Cleone spread out her fan and held -it before her face. - -"Not flattered, Mistress Cleone; justly appreciated." - -"La!" said Madam Charteris. "How can you say such things, Mr. Bancroft? -I declare you will make my daughter vain!" - -"Vanity, madam, mates not with such beauty as that of your daughter," -he retaliated. To the right he could see Philip, glowering, and his -mischievous soul laughed. Then Sir Maurice claimed his attention, and -he turned away. - -Philip walked to the couch and stood behind it, resting his arm on the -back. He leaned over Cleone with an air of possession. - -"Pranked out mummer!" he muttered in her ear. - -Cleone smiled up at him. - -"Why, sir, are you at variance with him in the matter of my looks?" she -asked, and thereby bereft him of speech. Her smile turned to a look of -reproach. "'Tis your cue, sir; am I to be slighted?" - -A dull red crept to the roots of Philip's hair. He spoke lower still. - -"You know--what I think of you, Cleone. I cannot--mouth what I feel--in -pretty phrases." - -A strangely tender light came into her eyes. - -"You might try, Philip," she said. - -"What, here? Not I! I am not one to sing your charms in public." He -laughed shortly. "So that is what you desire?" - -The tender light died. - -"No, sir. I desire you will not lean so close. You inconvenience me." - -Philip straightened at once, but he still stood behind her. Bancroft -met his eyes and was quick to read the challenge they held. He smiled, -twirling his eyeglass. - -When dinner was announced, Cleone was talking to Bancroft. It was but -natural that he should offer her his arm, but to Philip it seemed a -most officious, impudent action. Sir Maurice led Madam Charteris into -the dining-room; Mr. Charteris and Philip brought up the rear. - -From Philip's point of view the meal was not a success. Seated side by -side, Cleone and Bancroft exchanged a flood of conversation. Philip, at -the foot of the table, had on his right Mr. Bancroft, and on his left -Mr. Charteris. To the latter he made grave conversation. Occasionally -Bancroft dragged him into a discussion; once or twice Madam Charteris -and Sir Maurice appealed to him. But Cleone seemed unaware of his -existence. She was very gay, too; her eyes sparkled and shone, her -cheeks were faintly flushed. She answered Mr. Bancroft's sallies with -delightful little laughs and applause. - -As the dinner proceeded, Philip was made to feel more than ever his own -shortcomings. When he looked at Mr. Bancroft's white hands with their -highly polished nails, and many rings, he compared them with his strong -brown ones, tanned and--coarse? Covertly he inspected them; no, they -were better hands than that nincompoop's, but his nails ... bah! only -fops such as this puppy polished their nails!... - -The lilac satin of Mr. Bancroft's coat shimmered in the light of the -candles. How tightly it fitted him across the shoulders! How heavily it -was laced, and how full were its skirts! A coat for a drawing-room! -Unconsciously Philip squared his shoulders. All that foaming lace ... -more suited to a woman than to a man. The quizzing-glass ... abominable -affectation! The jewels ... flaunting them in the country! Patched and -painted, mincing, prattling puppy-dog! How could Cleone bear him so -near, with his fat, soft hands, and his person reeking of some sickly -scent?... - -Now he was talking of town and its allure, toying with the names of -first one celebrity and then another. And Cleone drinking in the silly, -smug talk!... Now hints at conquests made--veiled allusions to his own -charms. Ape!--truckling, overdressed ape! Suddenly Philip wanted to -throw his glass at Bancroft. He choked down the mad impulse, and strove -to listen to Mr. Charteris. - -Back in the withdrawing-room again it was worse. Sir Maurice asked -Cleone to sing, and she went to the spinet. Bancroft followed, -to choose her music, to turn the pages, to gaze at her in frank -admiration. Damn him, damn him, damn him! - - * * * * * - -The party came to an end at last; Philip was alone with his father. Sir -Maurice leaned his chin in his hand, watching him amusedly. For a long -while Philip said nothing, but presently he brought his eyes away from -the window and looked at his father. - -"And that," he said bitingly, "is what you would have me. A conceited, -painted puppy, fawning and leering on every woman that crosses his -path!" - -"Not at all." Sir Maurice took out his snuff-box and opened it. "'Tis -the last thing in the world I would have you." - -"You said--" - -"I said I would have you a very perfect gentleman, knowing the world -and its ways." - -"Well?--" - -"You perhaps conceive Mr. Bancroft a perfect gentleman?" - -"Not I! 'Tis you who--" - -Sir Maurice raised one delicate hand. - -"Pardon me! You choose to assume that I thought it. Mr. Bancroft is, -as you so truly remark, a conceited, painted puppet. But he apes, so -far as he is able, the thing that I am; that I wish you to become. You -are a country-bumpkin, my dear; he is a coddled doll. Strive to become -something betwixt the two." - -"I had sooner be what I am!" - -"Which is a conceited oaf." - -"Sir!" - -Sir Maurice rose, leaning on his cane. - -"Remain what you are, my son, but bethink you--which will Cleone -prefer? Him who gives her graceful homage, and charms her ears with -honeyed words, or him who is tongue-tied before her, who is careless of -his appearance, and who treats her, not as a young and beautiful girl, -but as his inevitable possession?" - -Philip answered quickly. - -"Cleone, sir, will--give herself where she pleases, but she is not one -to over-rate the tricks of such as Bancroft." - -"Or to under-rate the discomforts of tying herself to one who is tied -to the soil and his own pleasure," said Sir Maurice softly. - -The grey eyes met his, a trifle hurt. - -"I am selfish, Father? Because I will not become the thing I despise?" - -"And narrow, Philip, to despise what you do not know." - -"Thank you!" The young voice was exceedingly bitter. "I am to be a -painted popinjay! I tell you, sir, Cleone must take me as I am." - -"Or leave you as you are," said Sir Maurice gently. - -"A warning, sir?" - -"That's for you to judge, child. And now I'll to bed." He paused, -looking at his son. - -Philip went to him. - -"Good night, sir." - -Sir Maurice smiled, holding out his hand. - -"Good night, my son." - -Philip kissed his fingers. - -Followed a week of disturbing trivialities. Mr. Bancroft was more often -in Little Fittledean than at home, and most often at Sharley House. -He there met Philip, not once, but many times, hostile and possessive. -He laughed softly, and sought to engage Philip in a war of wits, but -Philip's tongue was stiff and reluctant. So Mr. Bancroft made covert -sport of him and renewed his attentions to Cleone. - -Cleone herself was living in a strange whirl. There was much in Mr. -Bancroft that displeased her; I do not think she ever had it in her -mind to wed him, which was perhaps fortunate, as Mr. Bancroft certainly -had it not in his. But homage is grateful to women, and ardent yet -dainty love-making fascinating to the young. She played with Mr. -Bancroft, but thought no less of Philip. Yet Philip contrived to -irritate her. His air of ownership, his angry, reproachful looks, fired -the spirit of coquetry within her. Mastery thrilled her, but a mastery -that offered to take all, giving nothing, annoyed her. That Philip -loved her to distraction, she knew; also she knew that Philip would -expect her to bend before his will. He would not change, it would be -she who must conform to his pleasure. Philip was determined to remain -as he was, faithful but dull. She wanted all that he despised: life, -gaiety, society, and frivolity. She weighed the question carefully, a -little too carefully for a maid in love. She wanted Philip and she did -not want him. As he was, she would have none of him; as she wished him -to be, he might have her. But for the present she was no man's, and no -man had the right to chide her. Philip had made a mistake in his wooing -in showing her how much his own he thought her. All unwitting, he was -paving the way to his own downfall. - -Despite the lisping conceit of Mr. Bancroft, his polished phrases and -his elegancy when compared with Philip's brusqueness threw Philip -in the shade. Mr. Bancroft could taunt and gibe at Philip, sure of -triumph; Philip tied his tongue in knots and relapsed into silence, -leaving Mr. Bancroft to shine in his victory. The man Cleone chose to -wed must be a match for all, with words or swords. Cleone continued to -smile upon Mr. Bancroft. - -At the end of the week the trouble came to a head. In the garden of -Sharley House, before Cleone, Mr. Bancroft threw veiled taunts at -Philip, and very thinly veiled sneers. He continued to hold the younger -man's lack of polish up to scorn, always smiling and urbane. - -Cleone recognised the gleam in Philip's eye. She was a little -frightened and sought to smooth over the breach. But when she presently -retired to the house, Philip arrested Mr. Bancroft, who was following. - -"A word with you, sir." - -Bancroft turned, brows raised, lips curled almost sneeringly. - -Philip stood very straight, shoulders squared. - -"You have seen fit to mock at me, sir--" - -"I?" interpolated Bancroft languidly. "My dear sir!" - -"--and I resent it. There is that in your manner to which I object." - -Bancroft's brows rose higher. - -"To--which--you--object...." he echoed softly. - -"I trust I make myself clear?" snapped Philip. - -Bancroft raised his eyeglass. Through it he studied Philip from his -toes to his head. - -"Is it possible that you want satisfaction?" he drawled. - -"More than that," retorted Philip. "It is certain." - -Once again he was scrutinised. Mr. Bancroft's smile grew. - -"I do not fight with schoolboys," he said. - -The colour flooded Philip's face. - -"Perhaps because you are afraid," he said quickly, guarding his temper. - -"Perhaps," nodded Bancroft. "Yet I have not the reputation of a coward." - -Swift as a hawk Philip pounced. - -"You have, sir, as I well know, the reputation of a libertine!" - -It was Bancroft's turn to flush. - -"I--beg--your--pardon?" - -"It is necessary," bowed Philip, enjoying himself now for the first -time in many days. - -"You--impudent boy!" gasped Bancroft. - -"I would sooner be that, sir, than an impudent, painted puppy." - -Under his powder Bancroft was fiery red. - -"I see you will have it, Mr. Jettan. I will meet you when and where you -will." - -Philip patted his sword-hilt, and Bancroft observed for the first time -that he was wearing a sword. - -"I have noticed, Mr. Bancroft, that you habitually don your sword. So -I took the precaution of wearing mine. 'When' is now, and 'where' is -yonder!" He pointed above the hedge that encircled the garden to the -copse beyond. It was a very fine theatrical effect, and he was pleased -with it. - -Bancroft sneered at him. - -"A trifle countrified, Mr. Jettan. Do you propose to dispense with such -needless formalities as seconds?" - -"I think we can trust each other," said Philip grandly. - -"Then pray lead the way," bowed Bancroft. - -What followed was not so fine. Bancroft was proficient in the art of -the duello; Philip had never fought in his life. Fencing had never -interested him, and Sir Maurice had long since despaired of teaching -him anything more than the rudiments. However, he was very angry and -very reckless, while Bancroft thought to play with him. He thrust so -wildly and so insanely that Bancroft was taken unawares and received a -fine slash across the arm. After that he fenced more carefully, and in -a very short time pinked Philip neatly and artistically above the elbow -of his sword arm. As Philip's blade wavered and fell, he wiped his own -on his handkerchief, sheathed it, and bowed. - -"Let this be a lesson to you, sir," he said, and walked away before -Philip could pick up his sword. - -Twenty minutes later Philip walked into the hall of Sharley House, a -handkerchief tied tightly round his arm, and asked for Mistress Cleone. -On being told that she was in the parlour, he stalked in upon her. - -Cleone's eyes flew to his crooked arm. - -"Oh!" she cried, and half rose. "What--what have you done? You are -hurt!" - -"It is less than nothing, I thank you," replied Philip. "I want you to -answer me plainly, Cleone. What is that fellow to you?" - -Cleone sat down again. Her eyes flashed; Philip was nearer than ever to -his downfall. - -"I entirely fail to understand you, sir," she answered. - -"Do you love that--that prancing ninny?" asked Philip. - -"I consider such a question an--an impertinence!" cried Cleone. "What -right have you to ask me such a thing?" - -Philip's brows met across the bridge of his nose. - -"You do love him?" - -"No, I don't! I mean--Oh, how dare you?" - -Philip came closer. The frown faded. - -"Cleone--do you--could you--love me?" - -Cleone was silent. - -Closer still came Philip, and spoke rather huskily. - -"Will you--marry me, Cleone?" - -Still silence, but the blue eyes were downcast. - -"Cleone," blundered Philip, "you--don't want a--mincing, -powdered--beau." - -"I do not want a--a--raw--country-bumpkin," she said cruelly. - -Philip drew himself up. - -"That is what you think me, Cleone?" - -Something in his voice brought tears to her eyes. - -"I--no--I--oh, Philip, I _could_ not marry you as you are!" - -"No?" Philip spoke very evenly. "But if I became--your ideal--you could -marry me?" - -"I--oh, you should not--ask such questions!" - -"As I am--you'll none of me. You do not want--an honest man's love. -You want the pretty compliments of a doll. If I will learn to be--a -doll--you'll wed me. Well, I will learn. You shall not be--annoyed--by -an honest man's love--any longer. I will go to London--and one day I'll -return. Farewell, Cleone." - -"Oh--goodness--are you--going to town?" she gasped. - -"Since that is your desire, yes," he answered. - -She held out her hand, and when he kissed it her fingers clung for an -instant. - -"Come back to me, Philip," she whispered. - -He bowed, still holding her hand, and then, without a word, released -it, and marched out, very dignified. It was another fine tragic effect, -but Cleone, when the door closed behind him, broke into an hysterical -laugh. She was rather amazed, and a little apprehensive. - - - - - Five - - In Which Philip Finds That His Uncle - Is More Sympathetic Than His Father - - -Home went Philip, a prey to conflicting emotions. He was angry with -Cleone, and hurt at what he termed her fickleness, but she was very -lovely, and still wholly desirable. Never until now had he realised -how necessary she was to his happiness. She would not marry him unless -he reformed, learned to behave like Bancroft--that was what she meant. -She did not love him as he was; she wanted polish, and frills and -furbelows. Philip's lips tightened. She should have them--but he was -very, very angry. Then he thought of his father, and the anger grew. -What right had these two to seek to change him into something that was -utterly insincere, trifling, and unmanly? His father would be rejoiced -to hear that he was going "to become a gentleman." Even he had no use -for Philip as he was. Well, they should have what they wanted--and then -perhaps they would be sorry. In a wave of self-pity he considered how -dearly he loved these two people. He wanted neither to change, he loved -them for what they were; but they.... He felt very sore and ill-used. -Something else there was that troubled him. He had set about the task -of punishing Mr. Bancroft, and Mr. Bancroft had ended by punishing -him. No pleasant thought, that. Bancroft was master not only of words -but of swords; he, Philip, was master of neither. He brooded over the -question, chafed and irritable. And so came home to Sir Maurice. - -He found him seated on the terrace, reading Juvenal. Sir Maurice, -glancing up, observed Philip's sling. He said nothing, but his eyes -gleamed an instant. - -Philip threw himself down upon a bench. - -"Well, sir, Bancroft and I have met." - -"I thought it would come," nodded his father. - -"I'm no match for him. He--pinked me with some ease." - -Again Sir Maurice nodded. - -"Also"--Philip spoke with difficulty--"Cleone--will have none of me--as -I am." He looked across at his father with some bitterness. "As you -prophesied, sir, she prefers the attentions of such as Bancroft." - -"And so--?" - -Philip was silent. - -"And so Mr. Jettan withdraws from the lists. Very fine," added Sir -Maurice. - -"Have I said so, sir?" Philip spoke sharply. "Cleone desires a -beau--she shall have one! I have told her that I shall not come to her -until I am what--she thinks--is her desire! I will show her and you -that I am not the dull-witted bumpkin you think me, fit for nothing -better than"--he mimicked his father's tone--"to till the earth! I'll -learn to be the painted fop you'd like to see me! Neither you nor she -shall be offended longer by the sight of me as I am!" - -"Now, here's a heat!" remarked Sir Maurice. "So you'll to London, boy? -To your uncle?" - -Philip shrugged. - -"As well to him as any other. I care not." - -"That's the wrong spirit for your emprise," said Sir Maurice, a laugh -in his eyes. "You must enter into your venture heart and soul." - -Philip flung out his arm. - -"My heart's here, sir, at home!" - -"It's also at Sharley House," said his father dryly, "or why do you go -to London?" - -"Ay, it's there! And I have the felicity of knowing that Cleone cares -not one snap of her fingers for me! She trifles with me, and makes -sport of me for her amusement!" - -"Tra-la-la-la!" said Sir Maurice. "Then why go to London?" - -"To show her that I am not the brainless oaf she thinks me!" answered -Philip, and marched off. - -Sir Maurice returned to Juvenal. - -Not until his arm was healed did Philip set forth to London town. He -parted amicably enough from his father, who gave him much advice, many -introductions, and his blessing. Cleone he did not see at all, but -when he had gone she went up to the Pride and held Sir Maurice's hand -very tightly. She shed a few tears; also she laughed a little. As for -Sir Maurice--well, he chided himself for a sentimental old fool, but -with Philip's departure had come a void which could only be filled by -Philip's return. - - * * * * * - -Tom was breakfasting when his nephew was announced. It was noon, but -Tom had spent a strenuous night. Philip walked into the room, under the -gloomy eye of Moggat, travel-stained and stiff from the saddle. He was -quite unexpected, but his uncle showed no surprise at seeing him. - -"Well met, Philip, my boy! What's to do now?" - -Philip sank into a chair. - -"I'll tell you when I'm fed," he grinned. "That sirloin pleases my eye." - -"Not an artistic colour," said Tom, studying it, "but appetising, I -grant you." - -"Artistic be damned!" said Philip, attacking it. Then he frowned. "H'm! -No, Tom, 'tis a displeasing blend--red and brown." - -Tom looked at him in surprise. - -"What's colour to you, Philip?" - -"Naught, God help me," answered Philip, and fell to with a will. - -"I echo that sentiment," said Tom. "How does your father?" - -"Well enough; he sends you his love." - -Tom thereupon buried himself in the mass of correspondence that lay by -his plate. When he came to the end, Philip had finished his repast. Tom -pushed back his chair. - -"Well, Philip, what brings you here? Moggat, you rascal, away with you!" - -Philip waited until the door had closed upon Moggat's reluctant back. - -"I've--to learn to be--a gentleman," he said. - -Tom stared at him. Then he burst out laughing. - -"God ha' mercy, Philip, has it come to that?" - -"I do not take your meaning," said Philip crossly. - -"What! It's not a petticoat?" - -"Tom, I'll thank you to--to--be quiet!" - -Tom choked his laughter. - -"Oh, I'm dumb! How do you propose to set about the task?" - -"'Tis what I want to know, Tom." - -"And I'm to teach you?" - -Philip hesitated. - -"Is it perhaps--a thing I can best learn alone?" he asked, surprisingly -diffident. - -"What is it exactly you want to learn?" - -"To become a gentleman. Have I not said it?" - -"Odd rot, what are ye now?" - -Philip's lips curled. - -"I have it on the best authority, Tom, that I am a clumsy, witless -clodhopper." - -His uncle regarded him with some kindliness. - -"Little vixen," he remarked sapiently. - -"I beg your pardon?" Philip was cold. - -"Not at all," said Tom hastily. "So Maurice has been at you again, eh? -Now, Philip, lad, come off your pinnacle and be sensible, for God's -sake! What do ye want?" - -"I want, or rather, they--he--wants me to learn how to dress, how to -walk across a room, how to play with words, how to make love to women, -how to bow, how to--" - -"Oh, stop, stop!" cried Tom. "I have the whole picture! And it's no -easy task, my boy. It will take you years to learn." - -"Why, I trust you're pessimistic, sir," said Philip, "for I intend to -acquire all these arts--within a year." - -"Well, I like your spirit," acknowledged Tom. "Take some more ale, lad, -and let me have the whole story." - -This advice Philip saw fit to follow. In a very short time he found -that he had unburdened his sore heart to an astonishingly sympathetic -uncle. Tom forbore to laugh--although now and then he was seized by an -inward paroxysm which he had much ado to choke down. When Philip came -to the end of his recital and stared gloomily across at him, he tapped -his teeth with one polished finger-nail and looked exceeding wise. - -"My opinion is, Philip, that you are the best of all us Jettans, but -that's neither here nor there. Now it seems to me that the folk at home -don't appreciate your sterling qualities--" - -"Oh, 'tis not my qualities they object to! 'Tis my lack of vice." - -"Don't interrupt my peroration, lad. They think you a noble--what was -the word you used?--clodhopper. 'Tis marvellously apt. They doubt your -ability to shine in society. 'Tis for us to prove them to be mistaken. -You must surprise them." - -"I doubt I shall," said Philip, with the glimmering of a smile. - -Tom was wrapped in thought; his eyes ran over his nephew's form -appraisingly. - -"Ye've a fine figure, and good legs. Your hands?" - -Philip extended them, laughing. - -"Um! a little attention, and I'd not wish to see better. Like all the -Jettans, you are passable of countenance, not to say handsome." - -"Am I?" Philip was startled. "I never knew that before!" - -"Then ye know it now. You're the spit of your father in his young days. -Gad, what days they were! Before I grew fat," he added sadly. "But I -wander, I wander. Maurice and the petticoat--what's the girl's name?" - -"I don't see why you should assu--" - -"Don't be a fool, lad! It's that fair chit, eh? Charlotte--no, damn it, -some heathenish name!" - -"Cleone," supplied Philip, submitting. - -"Ay, that's it--Cleone. Well, Maurice and Cleone think that ye'll gain -a little polish and some style. What you must do is excel. Excel!" - -"I doubt I could not," said Philip. "And, indeed, I've no mind to." - -"Then I've done with you." Tom leaned back in his chair with an air of -finality. - -"No, no, Tom! You must help me!" - -A stern eye was fixed on him. - -"Ye must put yourself in my hands, then." - -"Ay, but--" - -"Completely," said Tom inexorably. - -Philip collapsed. - -"Oh, very well!" - -The round, good-tempered face lost its unaccustomed severity. Tom was -again wrapped in thought. - -"Paris," he said at length, to the bewilderment of his nephew. "You -must go there," he explained. - -Philip was horrified. - -"What! I? To Paris? Never!" - -"Then I wash my--" - -"But, Tom, consider! I know so little French!" - -"The more reason." - -"But--but--damn it, I say I will not!" - -Tom yawned. - -"As ye will." - -Philip became more and more unhappy. - -"Why should I go to Paris?" he growled. - -"You're like a surly bear," reproved Tom. "Where else would you go?" - -"Can't I--surely I can learn all I want here?" - -"Ay, and have all your friends nudging each other as you transform from -what you are to what you are to become!" - -Philip had not thought of that. He relapsed into sulky silence. - -"To Paris," resumed Tom, "within the week. Luckily, you've more money -than is good for you. You've no need to pinch and scrape. I'll take -you, clothe you, and introduce you." - -Philip brightened. - -"Will you? That's devilish good of you, Tom!" - -"It is," agreed Tom. "But I dare swear I'll find entertainment there." -He chuckled. "And not a word to your father or to anyone. You'll -vanish, and when you reappear no one will know you." - -This dazzling prospect did not appear to allure Philip. He sighed -heavily. - -"I suppose I must do it. But--" He rose and walked to the window. -"It's all that I despise and that I detest. Mere love--does not -suffice. Well, we shall see." He thrust his hands deep in his pockets. -"The thing they want me to be is neither noble nor estimable. -They--he--they--don't care what may be a man's reputation or his -character! He must speak them softly, and charm their ears with silly -compliments, and their eyes with pretty silks and satins. Naught else -is of consequence. Faugh!" - -"Ay, you're taking it hard," nodded his uncle. "But they're all the -same, lad--bless 'em!" - -"I thought--this one--was different." - -"More fool you," said Tom cynically. - - - - - Six - - The Beginning of the Transformation - - -Philip stood in the middle of the floor, expostulating. A sleek valet -was kneeling before him, coaxing his gold-clocked stockings over the -knee of his small-clothes, and a middle-aged exquisite was arranging -his Mechlin cravat for the seventh time, a frown crinkling his -forehead, and French oaths proceeding from his tinted lips. Mr. Thomas -Jettan was giving the nails of Philip's right hand a last, lingering -polish. And Philip, supremely miserable, expostulated in vain. - -François sat back on his heels and eyed Philip's legs adoringly. - -"But of an excellence, m'sieur! So perfect a calf, m'sieur! So vairy -fine a laig," he explained in English. - -Philip tried to squint down at them, and was rewarded by an impatient -exclamation from the gentleman who was wrestling with his cravat. - -"_Tais--toi, imbécile!_ 'Ow is it zat I shall arrange your cravat if -you tweest and turn like zis? Lift your chin, Philippe!" - -"_Mais, monsieur, je--je--cela me donne--mal au cou._" - -"_Il faut souffrir pour être bel_," replied the Marquis severely. - -"So it seems," said Philip irritably. "Tom, for God's sake, have done!" - -His uncle chuckled. - -"I've finished, never fear. Jean, that is wonderful!" - -Le Marquis de Château-Banvau stepped back to view his handiwork. - -"I am not altogether satisfied," he said musingly. - -Philip warded him off. - -"No, no, m'sieur! I am sure it is perfection!" - -The Marquis disregarded him. Once more his nimble fingers busied -themselves amongst the folds of soft lace. His eyes gleamed suddenly. - -"It is well! François, the sapphire pin! Quickly!" - -The valet held it out. He and Tom watched anxiously as the Marquis' -hand hovered, uncertain. Philip felt that this was a supreme moment; he -held his breath. Then the pin was fixed with one unerring movement, and -the two onlookers drew deep breaths of relief. - -The Marquis nodded. - -"Yes, Tom, you are right. It is a triumph. Sit down, Philippe." - -Philip sank into a chair by the dressing-table. - -"What now? Have you nearly finished?" - -"Now the rouge. François, haste!" - -Philip tried to rebel. - -"I will not be painted and powdered!" - -The Marquis fixed him with a cold eye. - -"_Plaît--il?_" - -"M'sieur--I--I will not!" - -"Philippe--if it were not for the love I bear your papa, I would leave -you zis minute. You will do as I say, _hein_?" - -"But, m'sieur, can I not go without paint?" - -"You can not." - -Philip smiled ruefully. - -"Then do your worst!" - -"It is not my worst, _ingrat_. It is my best!" - -"Your best, then. I am really very grateful, sir." - -The Marquis' lips twitched. He signed to François. - -Under his deft hands Philip squirmed and screwed up his face. He -complained that the haresfoot tickled him, and he winced when the -Marquis pressed two patches on his face. When François dusted his -cheeks with powder he sneezed, and when a single sapphire ear-ring was -placed in his left ear he scowled and muttered direfully. - -But the supreme torture was to come. He discovered that it required the -united energies of the three men to coax him into his coat. When at -last it was on he assured them it would split across the shoulders if -he so much as moved a finger. - -The Marquis found him _fort amusant_, but troublesome. - -"Forget it, little fool!" - -"Forget it?" cried Philip. "How can I forget it when it prevents my -moving?" - -"_Quelle absurdité!_ The sword, Tom!" - -"How can I dance in a sword?" protested Philip. - -"It is _de rigueur_," said the Marquis. - -Philip fingered the jewelled hilt. - -"A pretty plaything," he said. "I have never spent so much money on -fripperies before." - -François arranged the full skirts of his coat about the sword, and Tom -slipped rings on to Philip's fingers. A point-edged hat was put into -his hand, an enamelled snuff-box, and a handkerchief. - -Thomas looked at the Marquis, the Marquis nodded complacently. He led -Philip to a long glass. - -"Well, my friend?" - -But Philip said never a word. He stared and stared again at his -reflection. He could not believe that it was himself. He saw a -tall, slight figure dressed in a pale blue satin coat, and white -small-clothes, flowered waistcoat, and gold-clocked stockings. High -red-heeled shoes, diamond-buckled, were on his feet, lace foamed over -his hands and at his neck, while a white wig, marvellously curled and -powdered, replaced his shorn locks. Unconsciously he drew himself up, -tilting his chin a little, and shook out his handkerchief. - -"Well!" The Marquis grew impatient. "You have nothing to say?" - -Philip turned. - -"_C'est merveilleux!_" he breathed. - -The Marquis beamed, but he shook his head. - -"In time, yes. At present, a thousand times no! _C'est gauche, c'est -impossible!_" - -Unwontedly humble, Philip begged to be made less _gauche_. - -"It is my intention," said the Marquis. "A month or so and I shall be -proud of my pupil." - -"Faith, I'm proud of ye now!" cried Tom. "Why, lad, you'll be more -modish than ever Maurice was!" - -Philip flushed beneath his powder. A ruby on his finger caught his eye. -He regarded it for a moment, frowning, then he took it off. - -"Oh?" queried the Marquis. "Why?" - -"I don't like it." - -"You don't like it? Why not?" - -"I don't know. I'll only wear sapphires and diamonds." - -"By heaven, the boy's right!" exclaimed Tom. "He should be all blue!" - -"In a month--two months--I shall present you at Versailles," decided -the Marquis. "François, remove that abominable ruby. And now--_en -avant_!" - -And so went Philip to his first ball. - - * * * * * - -At the end of the month Tom went home to London, having set his -nephew's feet on the path he was to tread. He left him in charge of M. -de Château-Banvau, who had by now developed a lively interest in him. - -After that first ball Philip threw off the last shreds of rebellion; he -played his part well, and he became very busy. Every morning he fenced -with an expert until he had acquired some skill with a small-sword; -he spoke nothing but French from morn to night; he permitted the -Marquis to introduce him into society; he strove to loosen his tongue, -and he paid flippant court to several damsels who ogled him for his -fine appearance, until his light conversation grew less forced and -uncomfortable. For a while he took no interest in his tailoring, -allowing Tom or François to garb him as they pleased. But one day, when -François extended a pair of cream stockings to his gaze, he eyed them -through his quizzing-glass for a long moment. Then he waved them aside. - -François was hurt; he liked those stockings. Would not M'sieur consider -them? M'sieur most emphatically would not. If François admired pink -clocks on a cream ground, let him take the stockings. M'sieur would not -wear them; they offended him. - -Before very long "le jeune Anglais" was looked for and welcomed. Ladies -liked him for his firm chin, and his palpable manliness; men liked -him for his modesty and his money. He was invited to routs and _bals -masqués_, and to card-parties and _soirées_. Philip began to enjoy -himself; he was tasting the delights of popularity. Bit by bit he grew -to expect invitations from these new acquaintances. But still M. le -Marquis was dissatisfied. It was all very well, but not well enough for -him. - -However, it was quite well enough for Thomas, and he departed, -chuckling and elated. He left Philip debating over two wigs and the -arrangement of his jewels. - - * * * * * - -Hardly a fortnight later Philip made secure his position in Polite -Society by fighting a duel with a jealous husband. Lest you should be -shocked at this sudden depravity, I will tell you that there was little -enough cause for fighting, as Philip considered the lady as he might -consider an aunt. Happily she was unaware of this. Philip's friends -did not hold back; he had no difficulty in finding seconds, and the -_affaire_ ended in a neat thrust which pinked the husband, and a fresh -wave of popularity for Philip. - -The Marquis told his pupil that he was a gay dog, and was met by a -chilling stare. - -"I--beg--your pardon?" said Philip stiffly. - -"But what a modesty!" cried the Marquis, much amused. - -"Is it conceivable that you think me attracted by the smiles of Madame -de Foli-Martin?" - -"But yes! Of course I think it!" - -"Permit me to enlighten you," said Philip. "My affections are with a -lady--at home." - -"Oh, la, la!" deplored the Marquis. "A lady of the country? A simple -country wench?" - -"I thank God, yes," said Philip. He depressed his friend, who had hoped -for better things of him. But he thought it wiser to change the subject. - -"Philip, I will take you to Court." - -Philip crossed one elegantly breeched leg over the other. He was, if -anything, a little bored. - -"Yes? Next week, perhaps? I am very much engaged until then." - -The shrewd eyes twinkled. - -"The manner is excellent, my friend. You will like to make your bow to -the King." - -Philip shrugged. - -"Certainly. I trust the King will consider himself sufficiently -honoured." - -"_Sans doute_," bowed the Marquis. "But I counsel you, slayer of -hearts, to cast your eyes away from la Pompadour." - -"M'sieur, I have already told you--" - -"Oh, yes. But you have now the name for--slaying of hearts." - -Philip dropped his affectation. - -"Good gad! Do you say so, sir? I?" - -"It is very fashionable," said the Marquis mischievously. "You become a -figure." - -"But I--" He checked himself, and relapsed into languor. "They fatigue -me." And he yawned. - -"What! Even la Salévier?" - -"The woman with the enormous wig--oh--ah! She is well enough, but -_passée, mon cher Marquis, passée_!" - -"_Sangdieu_, you are fastidious of a sudden! Is the little country chit -so lovely?" - -"Your pardon, Marquis, but I prefer to leave that lady's name out of -this or any discussion." - -"Or I shall have a small-sword through my heart, _hein_?" - -Philip smiled. - -"That is absurd, sir." - - * * * * * - -That night he gave a card-party. The play was high and the bottles -numerous. He lost some money, won a little, and was put to bed by his -valet long after dawn. He awoke later with a splitting headache, but he -considered himself a man. That was in September. - - - - - Seven - - Mr. Bancroft Comes to Paris and Is Annoyed - - -In February came Mr. Bancroft to Paris. Philip's departure from Little -Fittledean had been closely followed by his own, for he found that -Cleone no longer smiled. Also, the spice of wooing her was gone when -there was no jealous lover to flout. He waited until his _affaire_ had -blown over, and then he went back to London. Now, very blasé, he came -to Paris in search of new pastimes. - -It was not long before he met Philip. And the manner of the meeting -was delightfully sensational. Under the auspices of his friend, M. de -Chambert, he attended a rout at the hotel of the Duchesse de Maugry. -He was presented to one Mademoiselle de Chaucheron, a sprightly little -lady, with roguish black eyes. Mr. Bancroft was content to form one of -the small court she held. Several old acquaintances he met, for he was -not unknown in Paris. - -Conversation flourished for some time. But suddenly Mademoiselle cried -out, clapping her hands: - -"_Le voilà, notre petit Philippe! Eh bien, petit Anglais?_" - -A slight gentleman in peach-coloured satin, powdered, painted, -perfumed, came quickly through the group and went down on one knee -before her. - -"At thy most exquisite feet, my lady!" - -Delighted, she gave him her hand to kiss. - -"And where have you been this long while, _vaurien_?" - -Philip kissed the tips of her fingers, one by one. - -"Languishing in outer darkness, _chérie_." - -"The darkness of the Court!" laughed the Comte de Saint-Dantin. -"Philippe, I know you for a rogue and a trifler!" - -Philip looked up, still holding Mademoiselle's hand. - -"Someone has maligned me. Of what am I accused?" - -Mademoiselle rapped his knuckles with her fan. - -"_Voyons!_ Have you finished with my hand?" - -Instantly he turned back to her. - -"I have lost count! Now I must begin again. One moment, Comte, I am -much occupied!" Gravely he kissed each rosy finger a second time. "And -one for the lovely whole. _Voilà!_" - -"You are indeed a rogue," she told him. "For you care--not one jot!" - -"If that were true I were a rogue beyond reprieve," he answered gaily. - -"You don't deceive me, _le petit Philippe_!... So sweet, so amiable, so -great a flatterer--with no heart to lose!" - -"Rumour hath it that 'tis already lost," smiled De Bergeret. "Eh, -Philippe?" - -"Lost an hundred times," mourned Philip, "and retrieved never!" - -"Oh!" Mademoiselle started back in mock-anger. "Wretch that thou art, -and so fickle! Rise! I'll no more of you!" - -"Alack!" Philip came to his feet, and dusted his knee with his -handkerchief. "I give you thanks, _mignonne_, 'twas very hard." - -"But you do not say! How is she, la Pompadour?" cried De Salmy. - -Philip pressed a hand to his forehead. - -"La Pompadour? I do not know; I have forgotten. She has blue eyes, not -black." - -Mademoiselle promptly hid behind her fan. - -Mr. Bancroft was staring at Philip as one in a trance. At that moment -Philip looked his way. The grey eyes held no recognition and passed on. - -"Good heavens!" exclaimed Bancroft. '"Tis never Mr. Jettan?" - -"_Que lui dit-il?_" asked Mademoiselle, for Bancroft had spoken in -English. - -Philip bowed distantly. - -"M'sieur?" - -"You've not forgotten me? Bancroft?" - -"Ah--Mr. Bancroft! I remember. Your servant, sir." He bowed again. - -"Gad, I could scarce credit mine eyes! _Nom de Dieu!_" - -"Aha, that I understand!" said Mademoiselle relievedly. "It is one of -your friends, Philippe?" She smiled upon Mr. Bancroft with more warmth, -and extended her hand. "_L'ami de Philippe_--ah, but you should have -said!" - -Mr. Bancroft was not elated at being classed as Philip's friend, but he -bowed over Mademoiselle's hand with a good grace. - -"I had no notion of finding him here, mademoiselle. The last time we -met was--in a wood." - -"Tell!" besought the lady. - -Philip threw out his hands. - -"Ah, no, _chérie_! That meeting was so disastrous to my vanity!" - -"_Raison de plus_," decided Mademoiselle. "Tell me about it!" - -"Mr. Bancroft and I had some slight difference in opinion which we -settled in a wood. I was very easily worsted." - -"_You?_" cried Mademoiselle. "Impossible!" - -"On the contrary, _bien aimée_; I was, in those days, a very sorry -spectacle, was I not, sir?" - -"Not so long since," said Mr. Bancroft. - -"Six months," nodded Philip, and turned to speak to the Comte de -Saint-Dantin. - -Mademoiselle was still incredulous. - -"A sorry spectacle? Philippe?" - -"I scent an intrigue," said a little Vicomte. "Clothilde, make him -tell!" - -"Of course," she said. "Philippe!" - -Philip swung neatly round to face her. - -"_Chère Clothilde?_" - -"Come here! I want you to tell me what you mean by a sorry spectacle. -If you refuse--_bien_! I shall ask Mr. Bancroft!" - -"Oh, I'll give away no man's secrets!" simpered Bancroft. - -Philip raised his eyeglass. He observed Mr. Bancroft dispassionately. -Then he shrugged, and turned back to Clothilde. - -"_Petite ange_, it's a sad tale. Six months ago I lived in the country, -and I was a very churlish bumpkin. Then I was made to see the folly of -my ways, and now--_me voici_!" - -"I said that I scented an intrigue," said the Vicomte tranquilly. - -"But wait, wait! _You_ in the country, Philippe? You jest!" - -"On my honour, no, _chérie_! I came to Paris to learn the ways of -Polite Society." - -"Six months ago?" De Bergeret was astonished. "It is your first visit? -You learned all this in so short a time?" - -"I have a natural aptitude," smiled Philip. "Now are you satisfied?" - -"_Je n'en reviendrai jamais!_" Mademoiselle spoke emphatically. -"_Jamais, jamais, jamais!_" - -"I am not at all satisfied." - -Philip cocked one eyebrow at the dainty Vicomte. - -"What more would you have?" - -"I would know of what like she is." - -"She?" - -"The lady to whom your heart is lost." - -"That's an hundred she's," replied Philip airily. "And they are all -different!" - -"I dare swear I could enlighten M. de Ravel," drawled Bancroft. - -All eyes turned his way. Philip seated himself beside Mademoiselle. He -was smiling faintly. - -"Proceed, _mon ami_. Who is this lady that I have forgotten?" - -"Forgotten? Oh, come now, Jettan!" - -Philip played with Clothilde's fan; he was still smiling, but the -bright grey eyes that met Bancroft's held a challenge. - -"If it transpired, m'sieur, that I had not forgotten it is possible -that I might resent any liberties you or others thought to take with -that lady's name," he said softly. - -There was a sudden silence. No one could mistake the menacing note in -Philip's smooth voice. Saint-Dantin made haste to fill the breach. - -"The little Philippe is ready to fight us all, but it cannot be -permitted. We'll not plague him, for he is very devilish when he is -roused, I assure you!" He laughed easily and offered Bancroft snuff. - -"He is very fastidious," sneered Bancroft. - -M. le Comte closed his snuff-box and stepped back. He became politely -bored. - -"The subject grows somewhat tedious, I think. Mademoiselle, will you -dance?" - -Bancroft flushed. Mademoiselle sprang up. - -"I am promised to Jules!" She nodded, smiling, to De Bergeret. Together -they walked away from the little group. - -Saint-Dantin linked arms with Philip. - -"Come with me to the card-room, Philippe. Unless you wish to lead out -la Salévier?" He nodded to where an opulent beauty stood. - -"It's too fatiguing," said Philip. "I'll come." - -"Who is he, the ill-disposed gentleman in pink?" inquired the Comte, -when they were out of earshot. - -"A creature of no importance," shrugged Philip. - -"So I see. Yet he contrives to arouse your anger?" - -"Yes," admitted Philip. "I do not like the colour of his coat." - -"You may call upon me," said Saint-Dantin at once. "I do not like -anything about him. He was here before--last year. His conversation -lacks _finesse_. He is tolerated in London, _hein_?" - -"I don't know. I trust not." - -"_Hé, hé!_ So he interfered between you and the lady?" - -Philip withdrew his arm. - -"Saint-Dantin!" - -"Oh, yes, yes, I know! We all know that in the background lurks--a -lady! Else why your so chaste and cold demeanour?" - -"Am I cold?" - -"At the bottom, yes. Is it not so?" - -"Certainly it is so. It's unfashionable to possess a heart." - -"Oh, Philippe, thou art a rogue." - -"So I have been told. Presumably because I am innocent of the slightest -indiscretion. Curious. No one dubs you rogue who so fully merit the -title. But I, whose reputation is spotless, am necessarily a wicked one -and a deceiver. I shall write a sonnet on the subject." - -"Ah, no!" begged Saint-Dantin in alarm. "Your sonnets are vile, -Philippe! So let us have no more verse from you, I pray! All else you -can do, but, _sacré nom de Dieu_, your verse--!" - -"Alas!" sighed Philip, "'tis my only ambition. I shall persevere." - -Saint-Dantin paused, a hand on the curtain that shut off the card-room. - -"Your only ambition, Philippe?" - -"For the moment," answered Philip sweetly. "All things pall on one -after a time." - -"Save the greatest ambition?" Saint-Dantin's eyes were purely -mischievous. - -"You are as inquisitive as a monkey," said Philip, and propelled him -into the card-room. - - * * * * * - -"For how long has that fellow lorded it here?" asked Bancroft of his -friend. - -M. de Chambert flicked one great cuff with his handkerchief. - -"Oh, some months! He is refreshing, is it not so? So young, so lovable." - -"Lovable be damned!" said Bancroft. - -De Chambert looked at him in surprise. - -"You don't like our little Philippe?" - -"No, I do not. Conceited young upstart!" - -"Con--ah, but no! You misunderstand him! He pretends, and it is very -amusing, but he is not conceited; he is just a _bébé_." - -"Damn it, is he everyone's pet?" - -"_C'est le dernier cri de Paris._ There are some who are jealous, -naturally, but all who know him like him too much to be jealous." - -"Jealous!" Bancroft snorted. "Jealous of that sprig!" - -De Chambert cast him a shrewd glance. - -"A word in your ear, m'sieu'! Do not speak your dislike too widely. _Le -petit Philippe_ has powerful friends. You will be frowned upon if you -sneer at him." - -Bancroft struggled for words. - -"I'll--not conceal from you, De Chambert, that I've a grudge against -your little Philippe. I punished him once before for impudence." - -"Aha? I don't think you were well advised to do so again. He would -have no lack of friends, and with a small-sword he is a veritable -devil. It would not be wise to show your enmity, for you will meet him -everywhere, and he is the ladies' darling. That says much, _hein_?" - -"And when I saw him last," spluttered Bancroft, "he was clad in a coat -I'd not give a lackey, and had as much conversation as a scarecrow!" - -"Yes? I heard some talk of that. He is a marvel, our Philippe." - -"Curse all marvels!" said Bancroft fervently. - - - - - Eight - - In Which Philip Delivers Himself of a Rondeau - - -M. Le Comte De Saint-Dantin gave a select dinner and card-party some -few weeks after the coming of Mr. Bancroft. Only his chosen intimates -were invited, and amongst them was Philip. At half-past five all the -guests, save one, were assembled in the library, and Saint-Dantin was -comparing his chronometer with the clock on the mantelpiece. - -"Now what comes to Philippe?" he inquired of no one in particular. -"Where is the child?" - -"He was at the ball last night," said M. de Chatelin, smoothing his -ruffles. "He left early and in great haste." He raised his eyes -and they were twinkling. "The pearl that hung from Mademoiselle de -Marcherand's right ear inspired him and he fled." - -"Fled? Why?" - -"I believe, to compose a ballade in its honour." - -Saint-Dantin flung up his hands. - -"May the devil fly away with Philippe and his verse! I dare swear it's -that that keeps him now." - -Paul de Vangrisse turned his head. - -"Do you speak of Philippe? I thought I heard his name?" - -"But yes! Henri declares he is possessed of an inspiration for a -ballade to Julie de Marcherand's pearl." - -De Vangrisse came towards them, stiff silks rustling. - -"Alas, it is too true. I visited him this morning and found him _en -déshabillé_, clasping his brow. He seized on me and demanded a rhyme to -some word which I have forgot. So I left him." - -"Can no one convince Philippe that he is not a poet?" asked De Bergeret -plaintively. - -De Vangrisse shook his head. - -"One may tell him that he is no swordsman, and no true _cavalier_; one -may decry all his graces and he will laugh with one; but one may not -say that he will never be a poet. He will not believe it." - -"Oh, he believes it, _au fond_," answered Saint-Dantin. "It amuses him -to pretend. Ah, here he is!" - -Into the room came Philip, a vision in shades of yellow. He carried a -rolled sheet of parchment, tied with an amber ribbon. He walked with -a spring, and his eyes sparkled with pure merriment. He waved the -parchment roll triumphantly. - -Saint-Dantin went forward to greet him. - -"But of a lateness, Philippe," he cried, holding out his hands. - -"A thousand pardons, Louis! I was consumed of a rondeau until an hour -ago." - -"A rondeau?" said De Vangrisse. "This morning it was a ballade!" - -"This morning? Bah! That was a year ago. Since then it has been a -sonnet!" - -"_A Dieu ne plaise!_" exclaimed Saint-Dantin devoutly. - -"Of course," agreed Philip. "The theme demanded a rondeau. At three -this afternoon I discovered that it was so. Did you come to see me this -morning, Paul?" - -"You asked me for a rhyme," De Vangrisse reminded him. - -"So I did! A rhyme for _tout_ and _fou_, and you gave me _chou_!" - -"Whereupon you threw your wig at me, and I fled." - -"_Chou!_" repeated Philip with awful scorn. "_Chou!_" - -Gently but firmly Saint-Dantin took the parchment from him. - -"You shall read it to us later," he promised. "But now you will dine." - -"It goes well before meat," pleaded Philip. - -He was answered by ribald protests. - -"I'll not listen to your verse on an empty stomach," declared the -Vicomte. "Belike I shall appreciate it when in my cups." - -"You have no soul," said Philip sadly. - -"But I have a stomach, _petit Anglais_, and it cries aloud for -sustenance." - -"I weep for you," said Philip. "Why do I waste my poetic gems upon you?" - -Saint-Dantin took him by the elbow and led him to the door. - -"_Parbleu_, Philippe, it's what we wish to know. You shall expound to -us at dinner." - - * * * * * - -Midway through the meal the Vicomte remembered something. He nodded -across the table to Philip, who was engaged in a lively and witty -argument with De Bergeret. - -"_A propos_, Philippe. Your so dear friend has been talking about you!" - -"Which so dear friend?" asked Philip. "Jules, if you maintain in the -face of my exposition that Jeanne de Fontenay can rival la Salévier in -the matter of--" - -"But attend!" insisted the Vicomte. "The Englishman--the -Bancroft--_peste_, what a name for my tongue!" - -Philip broke off in the middle of his discourse. His eyes gleamed in -the candlelight. - -"Bancroft? What does he say of me?" - -"A great deal, if all I hear is true." - -Philip set down his glass. - -"Indeed! Now, what might you have heard, De Ravel?" - -"It would appear that _ce cher_ Bancroft feels no love for you, _mon -pauvre_. If De Graune is to be believed, he resents your presence here. -He says he has been deceived in you. It is all very sad." - -"Yes," said Philip. He frowned. "Very sad. But what does he say?" - -"He divulges your close-guarded secret," said the Vicomte solemnly. - -"Oh!" Philip turned in his chair and leaned his elbows on the table. -"It is possible that I shall have a word to say to M. Bancroft. -Continue, Charles!" - -"He speaks of a lady in 'Leetle Feeteldean' who has blue, blue eyes, -and--" - -"Shall we pass over her eyes?" smiled Philip. - -"But certainly! Her hair--" - -"And her hair? In fact, shall we pass over all her attractions?" - -"He is very much in love," loudly whispered De Bergeret. - -Philip flashed a smile at him. - -"Very much, Jules. Proceed, Vicomte." - -The Vicomte sipped his wine. - -"M. Bancroft, he told of your--ah--infatuation. He described the -lady--oh, fully!" - -The thin lips were growing into a straight, smiling line, tightly -compressed. Philip nodded. - -"_Allons! Allons!_" - -"Vicomte, does the gossip of the gaming-halls amuse you?" asked -Saint-Dantin sharply. - -But the Vicomte was a mischief-loving soul. He disregarded the rebuke. - -"A pretty piece, he called her, but no more than a simple country -wench. By name--" - -"Oh, have done!" exclaimed Saint-Dantin impatiently. - -"But no!" Philip waved him aside. "I am very interested in what M'sieur -has to say." - -"By name, Cleone. We have it from M. Bancroft that she falls in love -with him for his _beaux yeux_ and his so charming manner." - -"Ah!" Philip's chin sank into his cupped palms. "_Et puis?_" - -"It is further recorded that one M. Philippe Jettan importuned her with -his clumsy attentions, so that M. Bancroft was compelled to teach this -M. Philippe a sharp lesson. And when one asks, 'What of the pretty -Cleone?' he shrugs his shoulders and replies, very superbly, that he -wearied of her as of all others." - -Saint-Dantin's crisp voice cut into the sudden silence. - -"Philippe, fill your glass. Paul here tells me of a pass he conceived -in his duel with Mardry last month. A--" - -"I will ask Paul to show me that pass," said Philip. He leaned back -in his chair and laughed softly. A moment later he had resumed his -interrupted discussion with De Bergeret. - -Afterwards Saint-Dantin took him aside. - -"Philippe, I would not have had that happen at my table! Charles is -incorrigible!" - -"On the contrary, I am grateful to him," replied Philip. "I might not -have heard else. Now I will shut that fellow's mouth." - -"How?" asked Saint-Dantin blankly. - -Philip made an imaginary pass in the air. - -"Short of killing him," objected Saint-Dantin, "I don't see--" - -"Kill him? Not I! I may count on you to--uphold me?" - -"Of course. But what do you mean to do?" - -"First I will reverse the tables. I will punish him. Then I will assure -him that my friends will espouse my cause if he again mentions my -lady's name in public." - -Saint-Dantin nodded. - -"I'll vouch for those here to-night." - -"Wait! Any mention of her name will be reported to me, and I shall send -François to administer a little beating. It is well." - -The Comte laughed outright. - -"Oh, Philippe, thou art a young hot-head! Is this Cleone of so great -account?" - -Philip drew himself up. - -"She is the lady whom I hope one day to make my wife." - -"_Comment?_ Your wife? _Ah, voyons! Cela change l'affaire!_ I did not -know that. Stop his talk, by all means." - -"It's what I am going to do," said Philip. "_Scélérat!_" - -"With a vile taste for pink, _hein_? You'll call upon me?" - -"If you please. And, I think, De Bergeret." - -"Saint-Dantin, a wager!" called De Vangrisse. "What are you talking of -so earnestly?" - -"Of pink coats," answered Philip. "Oh, my rondeau! Where is it?" - -"Devil take your rondeau!" cried the Vicomte. "Come and hazard a throw -with me." - -"_A l'instant!_" Philip untied the ribbon about his rondeau and spread -out the parchment. "I insist that you shall listen to this product of -my brain!" He mounted a chair amid derisive cheers, and bowed right and -left in mock solemnity. "To the Pearl that Trembles in her Ear. - - "_Cette petite perle qui tremblotte_ - _Au bout ton oreille, et qui chuchotte_ - _Je ne sais quoi de tendre et de malin._ - _A l'air à la fois modeste et coquin,_ - _Si goguenarde est elle et si dévote._ - - "_A regarder c'est toute une gavotte_ - _Où l'on s'avance, se penche, et pivote,_ - _Lors que tu branles d'un movement fin_ - _Cette petite perle._ - - "_C'est une étoile dans le ciel qui flotte--_ - _Un vif éclair qui luit dans une grotte--_ - _Un feu follet qui hors de mon chemin_ - _M'attire, m'éblouit, m'égare--_" - -Philip paused for his final effect. Arose Saint-Dantin, and like a -flash interjected: - - "_Enfin,_ - _Elle m'embête--saperlipopette!--_ - _Cette petite perle._" - -Outraged, Philip threw the parchment at his head. - - - - - Nine - - Mr. Bancroft Is Enraged - - -"Philippe, do you go to De Farraud's to-night?" asked De Bergeret -suddenly. He was lounging on the couch in Philip's room, watching -Philip adjust his patches. - -"De Farraud's? I'd not thought of it. Whom shall I meet there?" - -"Your very obedient," said De Bergeret, flourishing his hat. - -"The prospect does not entice me," answered Philip. "No, don't retort! -Don't speak. Don't move!" He leaned forward, shifting a candle to throw -its light on his face, and frowned at his reflection. The white hand -that held the haresfoot wavered an instant, and then alighted at the -corner of his mouth. Philip sat back, studying the effect. - -"Whom else shall I meet, Jules?" - -"The usual people, I fancy. And some others, no doubt." - -"De Farraud's friends are so very mixed," deplored Philip. "Do you -suppose that De Chambert will be present?" - -"Nothing is more certain," yawned De Bergeret. "But it will be amusing, -and the play will be high, which is all that matters." - -"But De Chambert wears puce small-clothes," objected Philip. - -"Does he? _Mordieu_, I'd like to see that! Puce small-clothes, -forsooth! And what does our Philippe wear?" - -Philip glanced lovingly down at his pearl-grey breeches. - -"Grey, and palest pink, with lacings of silver." He slipped out of his -gaily-hued robe, and stood up. - -De Bergeret levelled his eyeglass at him. - -"_Parbleu, Philippe!_ Grey lace!" - -Philip shook out his ruffles. - -"A sweet conceit, _hein_? But wait! François, my vest!" - -His valet brought it, and helped Philip to put it on. It was a very -exquisite confection of pink and silver brocade. - -De Bergeret was interested. - -"I'll swear you designed that, Philippe! Now for the coat!" - -When Philip had at last succeeded in entering into the coat it was some -ten minutes later. François stepped back, panting; Philip arranged his -sword to his satisfaction. - -"A careless sprinkling of rubies, _hein_? One in the cravat, one here, -another in my wig. And on my fingers, so!..." - -"Perfect!" applauded De Bergeret. "_Tonnerre de Dieu_, pink -hummingbirds on your stockings!" - -François beamed and clasped his hands, gazing in rapt admiration at -Philip's startlingly clocked legs. - -Philip laughed. - -"Do they please your artistic soul, Jules? And are they to be wasted -on De Farraud? I had intended to go to the Saint-Clamond rout, where I -know I shall meet Clothilde. Come with me!" - -De Bergeret shook his head. - -"I promised De Vangrisse I'd be at De Farraud's some time to-night. -Forget the lovely Clothilde, Philippe. Bethink you, your so dear friend -Bancroft will come to Farraud's in De Chambert's train!" - -Philip was fixing a long ruby ear-ring in his right ear, but he stopped -suddenly, and looked over his shoulder at De Bergeret. - -"_Comment?_" - -"Why, you leap to my bait!" said De Bergeret, amused. "I thought you -could not resist so great an attraction!" - -Philip fixed the ruby and swept round for his cloak and hat. - -"Faith, that can I not. I come, Jules, I come! François, thou rogue, my -snuff-box! Would that he may be wearing that salmon-pink! François, my -cane! Jules, you are sitting on my cloak! _Sangdieu!_ My new cloak!" -He swept De Bergeret off the coat, and shook out the soft, rose-lined -folds. "God be praised, it is unhurt!" With a deft movement he swung it -over his shoulders and fastened it. "My hat! Jules, what think you of -my hat?" - -"A grey hat! Philippe, what an audacity! You are really coming to De -Farraud's?" - -"To meet the so dear M. Bancroft. _En avant, Jules!_" - -De Bergeret went to the glass. - -"Cultivate a more restful manner, _mon petit_! I am not to be hurried. -Do you like this mixture of violet and cream?" - -"I like everything you have on, even the so badly arranged cravat! I am -consumed with impatience! Come!" - -"But why? Are you hasting to see the unspeakable Bancroft?" - -"But yes! Whom else? I will explain _en route_." - -De Bergeret suffered himself to be led to the door. - -"Philippe, it is not _convenable_ to display such enthusiasm. Languor -is now the fashion." - -"I am a fashion unto myself, then. I am an original. And I go to call -out M. Bancroft!" - -De Bergeret stopped short. - -"What! A brawl? No, then, I'll not come!" - -"A brawl? Is it possible? I shall conduct the affair with great -_douceur_, I assure you! You and Saint-Dantin are to be my seconds." - -"_Miséricorde!_ Philippe, you become more and more tiresome!" -expostulated his friend. "Why must you fight this fellow?" - -"An old quarrel--the settling of an unpaid score! _Allons!_" - - * * * * * - -"Oh, the devil," muttered Bancroft. - -"_Où donc?_" inquired Le Vallon, who was sitting next to him and who -understood English. - -Bancroft shot an angry glance towards the door. Le Vallon turned to see -what had excited his wrath. - -Talking to De Farraud, with many quick gestures and smiles, was Philip. -He had just arrived, and he was apologizing for his lateness, throwing -all the blame on De Bergeret, who accepted it meekly. - -"Oh, the little Englishman!" said Le Vallon scornfully. "Always late, -always eccentric. And grey lace! What an affectation!" - -Philip cast a swift glance round the room. His eyes rested an instant -on Bancroft's face, then they passed on. Two or three men called to -him, and he presently went to dice with De Vangrisse. But when Le -Vallon left Bancroft to join a faro group, Philip swept up his dice, -and with a laughing word to De Vangrisse, promising to return, he -walked over to Bancroft's table, and sat down in Le Vallon's chair with -a swirl of his full skirts. - -Bancroft was about to rise. Astonished at Philip's sudden advent, he -sank back again. - -"To what do I owe this honour?" he demanded. - -Philip dealt out the cards. - -"I will tell you. A hand of piquet? You will declare?" Bancroft sorted -his hand rather sullenly. Not until he had declared and played his card -did Philip speak again. Then he took the trick and leaned forward. - -"It comes to my ears that you have been bandying a certain lady's name -about Paris in a way that does not please me. You understand, yes?" - -"What the devil is it to you?" cried Bancroft, crimson-faced. - -"Sh, sh! Not so loud, if you please! Go on playing! I am informed that -you speak of this lady as a pretty piece! It is not how I will have -you speak of her. Also, you say that she fell in love with you _en -désespéré_. _Eh bien_, I say that you lie in your throat!" - -"Sir!" - -"_Doucement, doucement._ Further, I say that if so be you again mention -this lady's name in public I shall send my lackeys to punish you. It is -understood?" - -"You--you--you impudent young cockerel! I shall know how to answer -this! What's Cleone to you, eh?" - -The pleasant smile died. Philip leaned forward. - -"That name I will not have spoken, m'sieur. Strive to bear it in mind. -I have many friends, and they will tell me if you speak of the lady -when I am not by. And of the rest I have warned you." - -"Ye can understand this, Mr. Jettan--I'll speak of her how and when I -like!" - -Philip shrugged. - -"You talk foolishly. There is no question of refusal to comply with my -wishes. If I so please I can make Paris ve-ry uncomfortable for you. -You know that, I think." - -Bancroft was speechless with rage. - -"There is another matter," continued Philip amiably. "Once before I -had occasion to complain of your manner. I do so again. And I find the -colour of your ribbons most distasteful to mine eye." - -Bancroft sprang up, his chair grating on the polished floor. - -"Perhaps you'll have the goodness to name your friends, sir?" he choked. - -Philip bowed. - -"This time, yes. It is a little debt I have to pay. M. le Comte de -Saint-Dantin and M. de Bergeret will act for me. Or De Vangrisse -yonder, or M. le Duc de Vally-Martin." - -"The first named will suffice," snapped Bancroft. "My friends will wait -on them as soon as may be." With that he flounced away to the other end -of the room. - -Philip walked back to De Vangrisse and perched on the arm of his chair. - -De Bergeret cast his dice and nodded at Philip. - -"The deed is done?" - -"Most satisfactorily," answered Philip. "Throw, Paul, you can beat -that." - -"Not I! Jules has the devil's own luck to-night. If it is not an -impertinence, are you to meet M. Bancroft?" - -"Of course. Oh, _peste_!"--as De Vangrisse cast his dice. - -"What did I tell you? May I second you?" - -"A thousand thanks, Paul. But Saint-Dantin and Jules have consented to -act for me." - -"Well, I shall come as a spectator," said De Vangrisse. "Jules, another -hundred! I'll not be beaten by you!" - - * * * * * - -Le Vallon, who had watched the brief encounter between his friend and -Philip with great curiosity, now edged across to where Bancroft was -standing. - -Bancroft turned. - -"Come apart a moment," he said. His voice was still trembling with -passion. He and Le Vallon drew near to the window. - -"You saw that damned fellow come up to me just now?" - -"But yes! I watched very closely. What did he want with you?" - -"He came to impose his will--his will!--on mine. Curse his impudence!" - -"Why? What did he say?" asked Le Vallon inquisitively. - -Bancroft did not answer. - -"I want you to act for me," he said abruptly. "He--insulted me, and -I've sworn to teach him a lesson." - -Le Vallon drew back a little. - -"What? You seek to kill him? Kill _le petit Anglais_?" His tone was -dubious. - -"No, not quite that. I've no wish for trouble. He has too many friends. -I'll teach him to leave me alone!" - -"Oh, yes! But..." Le Vallon pursed his lips. - -"But what?" barked Bancroft. - -"It is said that he is a not-to-be-despised swordsman. He pinked Armand -de Sedlamont with great ease." - -"Pooh!" said Bancroft. "Six months ago--" - -"I know, I know, but he has changed." - -Bancroft scowled. - -"Well, will you act for me or not?" - -Le Vallon drew himself up. - -"M'sieur, I do not entirely appreciate your manner." - -Bancroft laughed uneasily. - -"Oh, come, Le Vallon! Don't take offence! That puppy has so annoyed me -that I can scarce keep my temper. Where's De Chambert?" - -"Playing at lansquenet with De Farraud. And I think we had best mingle -with the others. I do not care to appear conspicuous." - -Bancroft caught at his arm. - -"But you will second me?" - -"I shall be honoured," bowed Le Vallon. "And I hope you will succeed in -showing my fine gentleman his place." - -Later in the evening Saint-Dantin sauntered over to where Philip -sat, perched on the edge of the table, toasting some of his friends. -Saint-Dantin joined the gathering and laid a hand on Philip's shoulder. -Philip, who was drinking, choked. - -"_Malédiction!_ Oh, 'tis you, Louis! What now?" - -"There is a rumour that you go to fight _ce cher_ Bancroft, Philippe." - -"Already?" Philip was startled. "Who told you?" - -"_Personne._" Saint-Dantin smiled. "It is whispered here and there. And -Bancroft looks so black at you. It's true?" - -"Of course it's true! Did I not say I should do it? His seconds are to -wait upon you and Jules." - -"How very fatiguing!" sighed Saint-Dantin. "But quite amusing. One -jubilates. Bancroft is not at all liked. He is so _entreprenant_. An' I -mistake not, you will have an audience," he chuckled. - -"What?" Philip gripped his wrist. "I won't have an audience!" - -Saint-Dantin blinked, loosening the clasp on his wrist. - -"_Pas si éclatant_, Philippe," he said. "You twist and turn like a -puppet on wires! I only know that at least five here to-night swear -they'll see the fight." - -"But it is monstrous!" objected Philip. "I forbid you to divulge the -whereabouts of the meeting." - -"Oh, _entendu_! But the secret will out." - -"How am I to keep a steady wrist with a dozen ogling fools watching?" -demanded Philip. - -"You must keep it steady," said De Chatelin. "My money's for you, -_petit Anglais_!" - -Philip looked genuinely perturbed. - -"Henri, it is iniquitous! It is not a public exhibition that I engage -in! One would say we were gladiators!" - -"_Reste tranquille_," grinned De Vangrisse. "We are all backing you, -_mon petit_." - -"I trust you'll not forget to inform His Majesty of the rendezvous," -said Philip, resorting to bitter sarcasm. "And have you engaged a -fiddler to enliven the meeting?" - -"_Philippe se fâche_," teased De Chatelin. "Quiet, little fighting -cock!" - -"I shall write an ode!" threatened Philip direfully. - -"Ah no, that is too much!" cried De Vangrisse with feeling. - -"And I shall read it to you before I engage. Well?" - -"It is a heavy price to pay," answered Paul, "but not too heavy for the -entertainment." - - - - - Ten - - In Which a Letter Is Read - - -Cleone sat on a stool at Sir Maurice's knee and sighed. So did Sir -Maurice, and knew that they sighed for the same thing. - -"Well, my dear," he said, trying to speak cheerfully, "how is your -mamma?" - -"The same as ever, I thank you," answered Cleone. - -Sir Maurice patted her hand. - -"And how is little Cleone?" - -"Oh, sir, can you ask? I am very well," she said, with great -sprightliness. "And you?" - -Sir Maurice was more honest. - -"To tell the truth, my dear, I miss that young scamp." - -Cleone played with her fingers, her head bent. - -"Do you, sir? He should be home again ere long. Do you--do you yet know -where he is?" - -"No. That does not worry me. My family does not write letters." - -"Mr. Tom--has not told you, I suppose." - -"No. I've not seen Tom for some time.... The boy has been away six -months now. Gad, but I'd like to see him walk in at that door!" - -Cleone's head sank a little lower. - -"Do you think--harm could have come to him, sir?" - -"No. Else had I heard. Faith, it's our own fault, Cleone, and we are -grumbling!" - -"I never--" - -"My dear, don't pretend to me! Do you think I don't know?" - -Cleone was silent. - -"We sent Philip to acquire polish. Heaven knows what has happened to -him! Would you care greatly if he returned--without the polish, child?" - -"No!" whispered Cleone. - -"Nor should I. Strange! But I should prefer it, I confess." - -"Do you think--do you think he--he will be--very elegant, Sir Maurice?" - -He smiled. - -"I fear not, Cleone. Can you see our Philip tricked up in town clothes, -apeing town ways?" - -"N--no." - -There was silence for a few minutes. - -"Sir Maurice." - -"My dear?" - -"Mamma has a letter from my aunt, Lady Malmerstoke." - -"So? And what does she say therein?" - -"She--she wants me to go to her for the season." - -Sir Maurice looked down at her. - -"And you are going?" - -"I don't--know. I--do not wish to leave you, sir." - -"That is very kind of you, child. But I'd not have you stay for my -sake." - -"It's no such thing, sir. I do not want to go." - -"Why, Cleone, not for the season? Think of the balls and the routs." - -"I don't--care about it." It was a forlorn little voice, and Sir -Maurice patted her hand again. - -"Tut-tut, my love!" - -Another silence. - -"I do not think it is very kind in Philip to stay away from you for so -long a time," said Cleone wistfully. - -"You forget, dear. I sent him. He is but obeying me." - -"And--and me." - -Sir Maurice found nothing to say to that. - -"Was I--perhaps--very wicked--to--to--do what he said--I did?" - -"What was that, Cleone?" - -"Th--throw away--an honest man's love for--for--oh, you know the things -he said!" - -"Silly young fool! You gave him his just deserts, Cleone. And you may -vouch for it that he will be back here at your feet in a very short -while." - -Cleone glanced up through her lashes. - -"Do you really think so?" she asked eagerly. - -"Of course I do!" he answered stoutly. - -Just then a bell clanged somewhere in the distance. Cleone jumped up -and ran to the window which looked out on the avenue. She tip-toed, -craning her neck to see who stood in the porch. - -"Why, it is Sir Harold Bancroft!" she exclaimed. - -"Plague take him, then!" said Sir Maurice, disagreeably. "I can't stand -the fellow or his sprig of a son!" - -Cleone blushed and continued to stand with her back to the room until -footsteps sounded along the passage, and the door opened to admit the -visitor. - -Sir Maurice rose. - -"Give ye good den, Bancroft. It's good of you to come to visit me this -cold day." - -Bancroft wrung the thin hand, pressing Sir Maurice's rings into his -fingers. He bowed jerkily to the curtseying Cleone, and blurted forth -his errand. - -"'Tis a joke I must have you share! 'Twill be the death of you, I vow. -You knew my son was in Paris?" - -Sir Maurice put forward a chair. - -"Really? No, I did not know." - -"Well, he is. And"--a chuckle escaped him--"so is yours!" - -"Oh!" It was a smothered exclamation from Cleone. - -Sir Maurice smiled. - -"I guessed as much," he said, quite untruthfully. "Have you news from -Henry?" - -"No, not I! But I've a letter from an old friend of -mine--Satterthwaite. Do ye know him?" - -Sir Maurice shook his head. Having seen his guest into a chair, he sat -down on the couch, and beckoned Cleone to his side. - -"No. He, too, is in Paris?" - -"Ay. Now wait while I find the letter! You'll split o' laughter when -you've heard me read it!" He rummaged in his capacious pockets, and -drew forth two or three crumpled sheets. These he spread out, and -proceeded to find the place. - -"'I trust....' No, that's not it! 'We are' ... Hum, hum, hum! Ah, here -we have it! Just listen to this!" He held the parchment close to his -nose and began to read: - -"'... Whom should I meet but your boy, Henry! I had no notion he was -in Paris, or I should have sought him out, you may depend. The manner -of my meeting with him was most singular, as you will agree, and it -is the more interesting as the occasion affords the subject for the -latest joke of Paris, nay, I may almost say scandal, though to be sure -I mean not our meeting, but that which I am about to relate....' A bit -involved, that," remarked Bancroft, frowning. - -"Not at all," said Sir Maurice. "I understand perfectly." - -"Well, it's more than I do! However: 'I came upon Moosoo de -Château-Banvau the other day....'" - -"Château-Banvau!" - -"Eh? Do ye know him?" - -"Do I know him! As I know my brother!" - -"Fancy! There's a coincidence! But there's more to come! Where was I? -Oh, yes--'came upon Moosoo de Château-Banvau the other day and found -him in great amusement, which he offered me to share, and the which -I agreed to. He propounded me the joke that we were to see, and one -in which his _protégé_, a Mr. Philip Jettan, was the part cause of -and your son, Henry, the other!' Gad, that's a fine sentence! Are ye -listening to me, Jettan?" - -There was no need to ask that question. Both his auditors had their -whole attention fixed on him. Satisfied, he continued: "'This young -Jettan is, so says the Marquis, the craze of Fashionable Paris, the -ladies' darling'--do ye hear that now?--'and the maddest young scamp -that you could wish for. Then the Marquis further told me that Henry -was in Paris and engaged to fight a duel with this Jettan.'" - -"Oh, heavens!" cried Cleone. - -"Ye may well say so, my dear! Now, wait a while--the joke's against me, -I confess, but I had to tell you--'The cause whereof, it is rumoured, -is some lady whom both are enamoured of, some French wench, I think.'" - -Cleone was rigid. Her fingers tightened unconsciously on Sir Maurice's -arm. - -"'Jettan being a great favourite among the young sparks here, they all, -having got wind of the affair, combined among themselves, laying wagers -about the fight, the most of the money being laid on Jettan, as I hear. -Then to bait him, or what-not, they conspired to be present at the -meeting despite Jettan's protests. The Marquis laughed mightily here, -and said that Jettan threatened to read them an ode should they appear, -which he seemed to find vastly entertaining on account of some joke or -other concerning Jettan's poetry.'" - -"Philip's _poetry_?..." said Sir Maurice faintly. "Proceed, Bancroft." - -"Ay, wait a bit! Here we are: 'The Marquis was going to be present, -having heard of the rumour, and swore to take me along with him. The -which I did consent to, as you may imagine. Well, we came out to -Neuilly in due course at half-after eight one morning, and mighty -cold it was, but that's neither here nor there. There we found a fair -gathering of young rakes with their horses or chariots, some half -dozen in all, laying wagers and all mightily amused. And, stap me, -if there was not a fiddler scraping away as if his life depended on -it. Soon after we were come, up drives a coach and out jumps three -men, the first in great disorder at finding so many there assembled. -This was Jettan, and prodigious elegant and finicky he was, too, all -patched and painted, and tricked up in velvets and silks and I don't -know what. He fell into a great rage, though he was laughing half the -time, and, indeed, 'twas a ridiculous situation, and he could scarce -help but to be tickled by it. He turns to his seconds and rates them, -but they were too amused to do aught but to hold their sides. Then -young Jettan orders us all off and especially begs the Marquis to exert -his influence, which he would not do. Then Jettan appealed to us to -withdraw, whereat they were all the more entertained, and adjured him -to _se taire_, as they call it, calling him _petit Philippe_ and the -like. Then Jettan started to laugh himself and pulls out a roll of -parchment from his pocket, and was for declaiming some ode he had writ, -but that three of them took it from him. Then he says, "At least, send -that damned fiddler away!" and they replied, "All in good time," but -'twas himself had asked for him. Before he could say more, which he -was about to do, up comes another coach, and out gets your boy, Henry, -and his seconds. When they saw what was toward they were mightily put -out, as you may imagine, and, indeed, Henry was white and purple with -rage, saying this was an insult and he was not to be so mocked, and -the like. His seconds spoke apart with young Jettan's, and I give you -my word, they were dancing with fury, at least one was, but the little -one seemed more entertained. Then up comes Jettan, very solemn and -dignified, and bows to Henry. "I ask you to believe, moosoo," says -he, "that this is none of my designing. I desire," says he, "to offer -you my apologies for my friends' ill-timed pleasantry." Henry could -scarce mouth forth a word, so enraged was he, and was for retiring -at once, saying that he had borne much, but this was too much. The -fiddler was ordered to stop his scraping now, and the onlookers all -vowed they had come with serious intent to watch the fight, and would -not go until they had done so. Jettan offers to meet Henry another -day, when and where he will, but I could see Henry was burning to run -him through. "Since we are here," says he, "let us go on with it. I -await your convenience," he says, and, "I thank you," replies Jettan -and stands back. Henry's seconds were all for retiring, but he'd have -none of it, and bids them go to and choose the ground. At last all was -prepared, and the two stripped off their coats and vests. Everyone was -becomingly sober now, and, indeed, mighty anxious for young Jettan, -who is the smaller of the two, and Henry looking murder as he was. -Henry fought devilish hard, and, indeed, is a cunning fencer, as you -no doubt apprehend, but young Jettan was like a bit of quicksilver, in -and out with his sword most finicky and dainty. Soon we saw that Henry -was no match for him at all, and, indeed, could have been run through -the body a score of times, Jettan playing with him very pretty to see, -but I was sore distressed to see Henry so put to it. He gave Jettan -but the faintest scratch, and before we knew what was to do, there was -Henry reeling back and his sword on the ground. At which Jettan bows -very polite, and but a mite out of breath, and picks up the sword and -hands it to Henry. Henry was for continuing, and a brave lad he is, but -the seconds would have none of it, and 'twas all over. "I trust you -are satisfied, sir?" says Jettan. "Satisfied be damned!" pants Henry, -clutching at his shoulder. "Of the other matter between us," says -Jettan, "I can only counsel you to remember, for I meant what I said." -Then he walks off and we rode away.'" Bancroft stopped. "I saw the joke -was against me. What do ye think of that, Sir Maurice?" - -Sir Maurice drew a deep breath. - -"My God, I would I had been there!" he said fervently. - -"Ay, 'twould have been a fine sight, I vow! But did ye ever hear the -like of it? Philip and the petticoats, eh? These lads, Sir Maurice! -These lads! Satterthwaite says he writes madrigals and what-not to the -ladies' eyelashes!" Bancroft went off into a long chuckle. "And so -ruffled my young hot-head, who had always a way with the petticoats!" - -Cleone rose and walked to the window. She opened it, cooling her hot -cheeks. And there she stayed, seated on the low couch that ran under -the window, until Bancroft finally took his departure. - -When Sir Maurice returned from seeing his guest out of the house, he -found her pale again, and very stiff. - -"Ahem!" said Sir Maurice. Then, brusquely: "Pack o' lies!" - -"Do you think so?" said Cleone hopefully. - -"Of course I do! The boy is but doing what I told him to do--acquiring -polish and _savoir faire_ with your sex, my dear." - -Cleone sprang up. - -"You told him to--oh, how could you, sir?" - -"My dear, it's less than nothing, I dare swear. But Philip worsting -Bancroft like that! Philip the pet of Society! Gad, I never hoped for -this!" - -"Nor I," said Cleone bitterly. "And--and 'tis my -own--f-fault--for--s-sending him away--s-so c-cruelly, but--but--oh, -how _dare_ he?" - -Sir Maurice was silent. - -"He--he--I thought he--" she broke off, biting her lip. After a slight -pause she spoke again, with would-be lightness. "I--do you know, I -think I shall go to my aunt after all?" - -"Will you, my dear?" said Sir Maurice. - - * * * * * - -That evening he was moved to write to his brother, an infrequent -proceeding. The outcome of that letter was a brief note from Tom, which -reached Philip a week later. - -"Dear Nephew,--The Devil's in it now and no Mistake. Old Satterthwaite -was Present at your crazy Duel, and has writ the whole Tale to Harry -Bancroft, who, curse him for an interfering old Fool, read it to your -Father and Cleone. The Tale is that you and B. quarrelled over some -French Minx, which may be True for all I know. In any Case, Cleone -is monstrous put out, and Comes to Towne to her Aunt, old Sally -Malmerstoke. Maurice writes me this and demands your Return, being -Upset for the Girl's sake, but secretly Delighted at the Story, if I -read his Letter aright. Do as you please, dear Boy, but I warn you, -Cleone is in the Mood for any Madness, as is the way when a Maid thinks -herself slighted. And she is a Prodigious pretty Chit. My love to -Château-Banvau and to Yr Self.--Tom." - - - - - Eleven - - Philip Astonishes His Uncle - - -Thomas, deep in the latest copy of the _Rambler_, was aroused by the -sound of wheels drawing up outside the house. He rose and stretched -himself, wondering who could choose such a day wherein to visit him. -He strolled to the window and peered out into the foggy street. He was -surprised to see, not a light town-chariot, but a large travelling -coach, top-heavy with baggage, and drawn by four steaming horses. As he -watched, the door of the vehicle was thrown open and a slight gentleman -sprang out, not waiting for the steps to be let down. He was muffled -in a many-caped overcoat of Parisian cut, and shining leather boots -were on his feet. Tom was puzzled. Then, from out the coach, issued -two other men, evidently servants, the one small and wiry, the other -lank and cadaverous. Both seemed depressed. The man in the well-cut -cloak waved his hands at them and appeared to shoot forth a number of -instructions. The little man, scarcely visible beneath the bandboxes -that he carried, nodded, shivered, and rounded on the lean man. Then -the man in the cloak turned, and ran up the steps to Tom's front door. -A long bell-peal sounded through the house. - -Tom walked to the fire and stood with his back to it. Possibly this was -his friend Mainwaring come to visit him, but why did he bring so much -baggage? Tom rather hoped that the unknown guest had come to his house -in mistake for another's. - -But a quick tread came across the hall and the door of the library was -swept open. Hat in hand, the visitor stood before Tom, bowing. - -"Revered uncle, I kiss your hands!" And he proceeded to do so. - -"God ha' mercy, it's Philip!" gasped Tom. "I never expected you for -another week, lad!" - -Philip tossed his hat and gloves on to the table and wriggled out of -his cloak. - -"I am _de trop_, no?" - -"Never in your life!" Tom assured him. "Stand up, child, and let me -look at you!" Then, as Philip clicked his heels together and faced him, -laughing, his eyes widened, and his lips formed a soundless whistle. -"By the Lord Harry, Philip, it's marvellous! How could you do it in six -months----!" - -Philip rustled over to the fire and stooped, warming his hands. - -"Fog, cold, damp! Brrh! The unspeakable climate! Tom, it is permitted -that I stay with you until I find an abode?" - -With difficulty his uncle withdrew his gape from Philip's -claret-coloured coat of fine cloth, laced with gold. - -"Can you ask? Stay as long as you will, lad, you're a joy to behold!" - -"_Merci du compliment!_" smiled Philip. "You perhaps admire the mixture -of claret and biscuit as I wear it?" - -Tom's eyes travelled down to the creaseless biscuit-coloured -small-clothes. - -"Ay. I admire everything. The boots most of all. The boots--Philip, -where did you obtain them?" - -Philip glanced carelessly down at his shapely leg. - -"They were made for me. Me, I am not satisfied with them. I shall give -them to François." - -"Give them to François?" cried his uncle. "Ye wicked boy! Where is the -fellow?" - -"He and Jacques are struggling with my baggage and Moggat." He -stretched out a detaining hand as Tom started forward to the door. "Ah, -do not disturb yourself. I have spoken with _ce bon_ Moggat, and all is -well. He will arrange everything." - -Tom came back. - -"He will be in a frenzy, Philip! All that baggage!" - -"All--that baggage?" Philip spoke with uplifted brows. "It has -arrived?" He went to the window and looked out. "But no, not yet." - -"B--but--is there more to come?" asked Tom. - -"But of course! The bulk follows me." - -Tom sat down weakly. - -"And you who six months ago thought yourself rich in the possession of -three coats." - -Philip came back to the fire. He made a little grimace of distaste. - -"Those far-off days! That is ended--completely!" - -Tom cast him a shrewd glance. - -"What, all of it? Cleone?" - -"Ah!" Philip smiled. "That is--another--matter. I have to thank you for -your letter, Tom." - -"It brought you back?" - -"_En partie._ She is here?" - -"Ay, with Sally Malmerstoke. She is already noticed. Sally takes her -everywhere. She is now looked for--and courted." His eyes twinkled. - -"Oho!" said Philip. He poured out a glass of burgundy from the decanter -that stood on a small table. "So she is furious with me, yes?" - -"So I believe. Satterthwaite wrote that you and Bancroft fought over -the fair name of some French lass. Did you?" - -Philip sipped his wine. - -"Not a whit. 'Twas her own fair name, _à vrai dire_." - -"Oh! You'll tell her that, of course?" - -"Not at all." - -Tom stared. - -"What then? Have you some deep game in mind, Philip?" - -"Perhaps. Oh, I don't know! I thank her for reforming me, but, being -human, I am hurt and angry! _Le petit Philippe se fâche_," he said, -smiling suddenly. "He would see whether it is himself she loves, or--a -painted puppet. It's foolish, but what would you?" - -"So you are now a painted puppet?" said Tom politely. - -"What else?" - -"Dear me!" said Tom, and relapsed into profound meditation. - -"I want to have her love me for--myself, and not for my clothes, or my -airs and graces. It's incomprehensible?" - -"Not entirely," answered Tom. "I understand your feelings. What's to -do?" - -"Merely my baggage," said Philip, with another glance towards the -window. "It is the coach that you hear." - -"No, not that." Tom listened. Voices raised in altercation sounded in -the hall. - -Philip laughed. - -"That is the inimitable François. I do not think that Moggat finds -favour in his eyes." - -"I'll swear he does not find favour in Moggat's eyes! Who is the other -one?" - -"Jacques, my groom and _homme à tout faire_!" - -"Faith, ye've a retinue!" - -"What would you?" shrugged Philip. He sat down opposite his uncle, and -stretched his legs to the fire. "Heigh-ho! I do not like this weather." - -"Nor anyone else. What are you going to do, now that you have returned?" - -"Who knows? I make my bow to London Society, I amuse myself a -little--ah yes! and I procure a house." - -"Do you make your bow to Cleone?" - -An impish smile danced into Philip's eyes. - -"I present myself to Cleone--as she would have had me. A drawling, -conceited, and mincing fop. Which I am not, believe me!" - -Tom considered him. - -"No, you're not. You don't drawl." - -"I shall drawl," promised Philip. "And I shall be very languid." - -"It's the fashion, of course. You did not adopt it?" - -"It did not entice me. I am _le petit sans repos_, and _le petit_ -Philippe _au C[oe]ur Perdu_, and _petit original_. _Hé, hé_, I shall be -homesick! It is inevitable." - -"Are you so much at home in Paris?" asked Tom, rather surprised. "You -liked the Frenchies?" - -"Liked them! Could I have disliked them?" - -"I should have thought it possible--for you. Did you make many friends?" - -"_A revendre!_ They took me to their bosoms." - -"Did they indeed! Who do you count amongst your intimates?" - -"Saint-Dantin--you know him?" - -"I've met him. Tall and dark?" - -"Ay. Paul de Vangrisse, Jules de Bergeret, Henri de Chatelin--oh, I -can't tell you! They are all charming!" - -"And the ladies?" - -"Also charming. Did you ever meet Clothilde de Chaucheron, or Julie de -Marcherand? _Ah, voilà ce qui fait ressouvenir!_ I count that _rondeau_ -one of my most successful efforts. You shall hear it some time or -other." - -"That _what_?" ejaculated Tom, sitting upright in his surprise. - -"A _rondeau_: 'To the Pearl that Trembles in her Ear.' I would you -could have seen it." - -"Which? The _rondeau_?" - -"The pearl, man! The _rondeau_ you shall most assuredly see." - -"Merciful heaven!" gasped Tom. "A _rondeau_! Philip--poet! _Sacr-ré -mille petits cochons!_" - - * * * * * - -"Monsieur dines at home this evening?" asked François. - -Philip sat at his dressing-table, busy with many pots and his face. He -nodded. - -"The uncle of Monsieur receives, without doubt?" - -"A card-party," said Philip, tracing his eyebrows with a careful hand. - -François skipped to the wardrobe and flung it open. With a finger to -his nose he meditated aloud. - -"The blue and silver ... _un peu trop soigné_. The orange ... _peu -convenable_. The purple the purple _essayons_!" - -Philip opened the rouge-jar. - -"The grey I wore at De Flaubert's last month." - -François clapped a hand to his head. - -"_Ah, sot!_" he apostrophised himself. "_Voilà qui est très bien._" He -dived into the wardrobe, emerging presently with the required dress. He -laid it on the bed, stroking it lovingly, and darted away to a large -chest. From it he brought forth the pink and silver waistcoat that -De Bergeret had admired, and the silver lace. Then he paused. "_Les -bas?... Les bas aux oiseaux-mouches ... où sont-ils?_" He peered into -a drawer, turning over neat piles of stockings. A convulsion of fury -seemed to seize him, and he sped to the door. "Ah, _sapristi! Coquin! -Jacques!_" - -In answer to his frenzied call came the cadaverous one, shivering. -François seized him by the arm and shook him. - -"Thou misbegotten son of a toad!" he raved. "Where is the small box I -bade you guard with your life? Where is it, I say. Thou--" - -"I gave it into your hands," said Jacques sadly. "Into your hands, your -very hands, in this room here by the door! I swear it." - -"Swear it? What is it to me, your swear? I say I have not seen the box! -At Dover, what did I do? _Nom d'un nom_, did I not say to you, lose thy -head sooner than that box?" His voice rose higher and higher. "And now, -where is it?" - -"I tell you I gave it you! It is this bleak country that has warped -your brain. Never did the box leave my hands until I gave it into -yours!" - -"And I say you did not! _Saperlipopette_, am I a fool that I should -forget? Now listen to what you have done! You have lost the stockings -of Monsieur! By your incalculable stupidity, the stupidity of a pig, an -ass--" - -"_Sacré nom de Dieu!_ Am I to be disturbed by your shrieking?" Philip -had flung down the haresfoot. He slewed round in his chair. "Shut the -door! Is it that you wish to annoy my uncle that you shout and scream -in his house?" His voice was thunderous. - -François spread out his hands. - -"M'sieur, I ask pardon! It is this _âne_, this careless _gaillard_--" - -"_Mais, m'sieur!_" protested Jacques. "It is unjust; it is false!" - -"_Ecoutez donc, m'sieur!_" begged François, as the stern grey eyes went -from his face to that of the unhappy Jacques. "It is the band-box that -contains your stockings--the stockings _aux oiseaux-mouches_! Ah, would -that I had carried it myself! Would that--" - -"Would that you would be quiet!" said Philip severely. "If either of -you have lost those stockings ..." He paused, and once more his eyes -travelled from one to the other. "I shall seek another valet." - -François became tearful. - -"Ah, no, no, m'sieur! It is this _imbécile_, this _crapaud_--" - -"_M'sieu, je vous implore_--" - -Philip pointed dramatically across the room. Both men looked fearfully -in the direction of that accusing finger. - -"Ah!" François darted forward. "_La voilà!_ What did I say?" He clasped -the box to his breast. "What did I say?" - -"But it is not so!" cried Jacques. "What did you say? You said you had -not seen the box! What did _I_ say? I said--" - -"Enough!" commanded Philip. "I will not endure this bickering! Be -quiet, François! Little monkey that you are!" - -"_M'sieur!_" François was hurt. His sharp little face fell into lines -of misery. - -"Little monkey," continued Philip inexorably, "with more thought for -your chattering than for my welfare." - -"Ah, no, no, m'sieur! I swear it is not so! By the--" - -"I do not want your oaths," said Philip cruelly. "Am I to wait all -night for my cravat, while you revile the good Jacques?" - -François cast the box from him. - -"Ah, _misérable_! The cravat! _Malheureux_, get thee gone!" He waved -agitated hands at Jacques. "You hinder me! You retard me! You upset -Monsieur! _Va-t-en!_" - -Jacques obeyed meekly, and Philip turned back to the mirror. To him -came François, wreathed once more in smiles. - -"He means well, _ce bon Jacques_," he said, busy with the cravat. "But -he is _sot_, you understand, _très sot_!" He pushed Philip's chin up -with a gentle hand. "He annoys m'sieur, _ah oui_! But he is a good -_garçon_, when all is said." - -"It is you who annoy me," answered Philip. "Not so tight, not so tight! -Do you wish to choke me?" - -"_Pardon_, m'sieur! No, it is not François who annoys you! _Ah, mille -fois non!_ François--perhaps he is a little monkey, if m'sieur says -so, but he is a very good valet, _n'est-ce pas_? A monkey, if m'sieur -pleases, but very clever with a cravat. M'sieur has said it himself." - -"You are a child," said Philip. "Yes, that is very fair." He studied -his reflection. "I am pleased with it." - -"Aha!" François clasped his hands delightedly. "M'sieur is no longer -enraged! _Voyons_, I go to fetch the vest of m'sieur!" - -Presently, kneeling before his master and adjusting his stockings, he -volunteered another piece of information. - -"Me, I have been in this country before. I understand well the ways of -it. I understand the English, oh, _de part en part_! I know them for -a foolish race, _en somme_--saving always m'sieur, who is more French -than English--but never, never have I had the misfortune to meet so -terrible an Englishman as this servant of m'sieur's uncle, this Moggat. -_Si entêté, si impoli!_ He looks on me with a suspicion! I cannot tell -m'sieur of his so churlish demeanour! He thinks, perhaps, that I go to -take his fine coat. Bah! I spit upon it! I speak to him as m'sieur has -bid me--_très doucement_. He pretends he cannot understand what it is I -say! Me, who speak English _aussi bien que le Français_! Deign to enter -into these shoes, m'sieur! I tell him I hold him in contempt! He makes -a _reniflement_ in his nose, and he mutters 'damned leetle frog-eater!' -_Grand Dieu_, I could have boxed his ears, the impudent!" - -"I hope you did not?" said Philip anxiously. - -"Ah, bah! Would I so demean myself, m'sieur? It is I who am of a -peaceable nature, _n'est-ce pas_? But Jacques--_voyons, c'est autre -chose_! He is possessed of the hot temper, _ce pauvre_ Jacques. I fear -for that Moggat if he enrages our Jacques." He shook his head solemnly, -and picked up the grey satin coat. "If m'sieur would find it convenient -to rise? Ah, _bien_!" He coaxed Philip into the coat, bit by bit. "I -say to you, m'sieur, I am consumed of an anxiety. Jacques, he is a -veritable fire-eater when he is roused, not like me, who am always -_doux comme un enfant_. I think, perhaps, he will refuse to remain in -the house with this pig of a Moggat." - -Philip shook out his ruffles. - -"I have never noticed that Jacques showed signs of a so violent -temper," he remarked. - -"But no! Of a surety, he would not exhibit his terrible passion to -m'sieur! Is it that I should permit him?" - -"Well," Philip slipped a ring on to his finger, "I am sorry for -Jacques, but he must be patient. Soon I shall go to a house of my own." - -François' face cleared as if by magic. - -"M'sieur is kind! A house of his own. _Je me rangerai bien!_ M'sieur -contemplates a _mariage_, perhaps?" - -Philip dropped his snuff-box. - -"_Que diable--?_" he began, and checked himself. "Mind your own -business, François!" - -"_Ah, pardon, m'sieur!_" replied the irrepressible François. "I but -thought that m'sieur had the desire to wed, that he should return to -England so hurriedly!" - -"Hold your tongue!" said Philip sharply. "Understand me, François, -I'll have no meddling _bavardage_ about me either to my face or below -stairs! _C'est entendu?_" - -"But yes, m'sieur," said François, abashed. "It is that my tongue runs -away with me." - -"You'd best keep a guard over it," answered Philip curtly. - -"Yes, m'sieur!" Meekly he handed Philip his cane and handkerchief. -Then, as his master still frowned, "M'sieur is still enraged?" he -ventured. - -Philip glanced down at him. At the sight of François' anxious, naïve -expression, the frown faded, and he laughed. - -"You are quite ridiculous," he said. - -François broke into responsive smiles at once. - - * * * * * - -But when Philip had rustled away to join his uncle, the little valet -nodded shrewdly to himself and clicked his tongue against the roof of -his mouth. - -"_En vérité, c'est une femme_," he remarked. "_C'est ce que j'ai cru._" - - - - - Twelve - - Philip Plays a Dangerous Game - - -François endured the detestable Moggat for a week. He was then rewarded -for his patience by the news that Philip was shortly to move into a -small house in Curzon Street, which belonged to a friend of Tom. This -gentleman consented to let his house for the space of two months, as he -was going abroad for that time. Philip went to inspect the prospective -abode, and found it to be furnished in excellent style. He closed with -its owner and went back to Half-Moon Street to break the joyful news to -François. From that moment the excitable valet's spirits soared high. -He would manage the affairs of the house for M'sieur; he would find -M'sieur a _chef_. Philip was content to waive responsibility. François -sallied forth with the air of one about to conquer, to find, so he told -Philip, the son of his aunt, a very fair _chef_ and a good _garçon_. -Philip had no idea that François possessed any relations, much less -one in London. When he said this, François looked very waggish, and -admitted that he himself had forgotten the existence of this cousin -until the moment when M'sieur told him of the new home. - -"Then, _subitement_, I remember, for m'sieur will require a _chef_ is -it not so?" - -"Assuredly," said Philip. "But your cousin may not wish to take service -with me, in which case I shall seek an English cook." - -"An English cook? Ah, bah! Is it that I would permit m'sieur to be so -ill served? No! M'sieur shall have a French _chef, bien sûr_. What does -an Englishman know of the _cuisine_? Is m'sieur to be insulted by the -tasteless, watery vegetables of such as the wife of Moggat? No! I go to -find my cousin!" - -"Very well," said Philip. - -"And then we have a household _bien tenu_. It is our poor Jacques who -could not support an Englishman in the house." - -"I hope I am not to be excluded?" smiled Philip. - -"_M'sieur se moque de moi!_ Is it that m'sieur is English? M'sieur is -_tout comme un Français_." He bustled away, full of importance. - -The cousin was forthcoming, a stout, good-tempered soul, who rejoiced -in the name of Marie-Guillaume. François exhibited him with pride, -and he was engaged. That ended all Philip's responsibility. François -gathered up the reins of government, and in a week they were installed -in Curzon Street. Philip had done no more than say that he wished to -enter his new abode on Thursday. On Thursday he went out to Ranelagh; -when he returned to Half-Moon Street he found that his baggage had -gone. He took his leave of Tom, and walked up the road and round the -corner, into Curzon Street. His house was as neat as a new pin; his -baggage was unpacked; François was complacent. They might have lived in -the house for months; there was no disorder, no fuss, none of the slow -settling down. François, Jacques and Marie-Guillaume had fitted into -their respective niches in one short hour. Philip was moved to inform -François that he was a treasure. - -That evening he went to a ball given by the Duchess of Queensberry. And -there he met Cleone, for the first time since his return to England. - -The Duchess welcomed him effusively, for already Philip was a _persona -grata_ in Society, and much sought after by hostesses. Tom had lost -no time in introducing him to the Fashionable World. The ladies were -captivated by his French air, and ogled him shamelessly. Then men found -that he was, for all his graces, singularly modest and unaffected at -heart, and they extended the hand of friendship towards him. People -began to look for him, and to be disappointed if he were absent. - -Until now, however, Philip had seen nothing of Cleone, but on all sides -he had heard of her. She was, he learned, London's newest beauty. - - * * * * * - -She was dancing when Philip saw her first, smiling up at her partner -with blue eyes that seemed bluer than ever, and lips that lay in a -happy curve. Her golden hair was unpowdered and piled in curls upon the -top of her head. Philip thought she was more beautiful than ever. - -He stood apart, watching her. She had not seen him; she was not even -thinking of him; those eyes were clear and joyous. Who was her partner? -Brainless-looking fool! Simpering ninny! Ay, that was all she cared -for! Philip's hand clenched slowly on his snuff-box. - -"Aha, Jettan! You have espied the lovely Cleone?" - -Philip turned. Lord Charles Fairfax stood at his elbow. - -"Yes," he said. - -"But how stern and forbidding!" exclaimed Fairfax. "What ails you?" - -Philip's mouth lost its hard line. - -"I am struck dumb," he answered gaily. "Can you wonder at it?" - -"So are we all. She is very beautiful, is she not?" - -"Ravishing!" agreed Philip. He saw Cleone's partner lead her to a -chair. "Will you present me?" - -"What! And destroy my own chances? We have heard of your killing ways -with the fair sex!" - -"I protest I have been maligned!" cried Philip. "I do implore your -mercy! Present me!" - -"Against my will, then!" said his lordship roguishly. He walked forward -to where Cleone sat. - -"Mistress Cleone, have you no smile for the humblest of your admirers?" - -Cleone turned her head. - -"Oh, Lord Charles! Give you good even, sir! Do you know you have not -been near me the whole evening? I am monstrous hurt, I assure you!" - -"Dear lady, how was I to come near you?" protested Fairfax. "Until this -moment you have been surrounded." - -Cleone gave a happy little laugh. - -"I am sure 'tis untrue, sir! You delight in teasing me!" Her eyes -wandered past him to Philip. - -Fairfax drew him forward. - -"Mistress Cleone, may I present one who is newly come from Paris, and -is, he swears, struck dumb by your beauty? Mr. Jettan, of whom we all -know some naughty tales!" - -The colour drained from Cleone's cheeks. She felt faint all at once, -and her fingers gripped together over her fan. For one moment she -thought she must be mistaken. This was not Philip, this foppish -gentleman who stood bowing so profoundly! Heavens, he was speaking! It -_was_ Philip! How could she mistake that square chin? - -"Mademoiselle, this is a scarce-hoped-for honour," he said. "I have -watched and I have hungered. Lord Charles took pity on me, for which I -shall never cease to thank him." - -Cleone tried to answer, and failed. Dazedly she stared at him, from -the powdered curls of his wig to the diamond buckles on his shoes. -Philip! _Philip!_ Philip in stiff silks and laces! Philip patched and -painted! Philip with jewels scattered about his person, and polished -nails! Was she dreaming? This foppish gentleman her blunt Philip? It -was incredible, impossible! What was he saying now? - -"I little thought to find you here, mademoiselle! You are with Madame -Charteris, no doubt?" - -Cleone collected her scattered wits. An awful numbness was stealing -over her. - -"No, I--I am with my aunt, Lady Malmerstoke," she answered. - -"Lady Malmerstoke?..." Philip raised his quizzing-glass with one -delicate white hand, and through it scanned the room. "Ah yes, the lady -in the apple-green toilette! I remember her well, that lady." - -"Oh--do you--do you know her?" asked Cleone. She could not drag her -eyes from his face. - -"I had the felicity of meeting her some nights ago. I forget where." - -"R--really?" Cleone decided that this was a nightmare. - -Philip sat down beside her. - -"You have been long in town, mademoiselle? You find all this very -fatiguing, no doubt?" He waved a languid hand. - -Indignation was dispersing the numbness. How dared Philip drawl at her -like this? How dared he behave as though they were strangers? - -"I have been in London nigh on a month. I do not find it fatiguing at -all. I enjoy it." - -Slowly the straight brows rose. - -"But how refreshing!" said Philip. "When everyone is _ennuyé_ à -_l'agonie_, how delightful to meet one who frankly enjoys." He looked -at her admiringly. "And enjoyment becomes you better than boredom -becomes other women." - -Cleone felt that she was drifting further and further into the -nightmare. - -"I am happy to find favour in your eyes, sir. When did you return from -Paris?" - -"A fortnight since. In a fog which chilled me to the marrow. Almost I -fled back to France. But now"--he bowed gracefully--"I thank a kindly -Fate which forbade me to retreat thus precipitately." - -"Indeed?" said Cleone tartly. "How do you find Sir Maurice?" - -"As yet I have not found him," replied Philip. There was a laugh at the -back of his eyes. How dared he laugh at her? "I have written to beg him -to honour my house with his presence." - -"You do not propose to go to him?" Cleone's voice trembled. - -Philip started. - -"Mademoiselle speaks _en plaisantant_? The country in this weather?" He -shuddered. - -"I see," said Cleone, and thought that she spoke the truth. Her foot -tapped the ground angrily. Philip eyed it through his glass. - -"That little foot ..." he said softly. It was withdrawn. "Ah, cruel! It -inspired me with--I think--a madrigal. Cased in silver satin.... Ah!" - -"It pleases you to make merry of my foot, sir?" - -"_Jamais de ma vie!_" Philip threw out his hands. "It is neither food -for merriment nor sighs. It is food for pure joy. My eye, _chère -mademoiselle_, is susceptible to beauty, be it beauty of face, or -beauty of foot; the eye whispers to the brain, and a madrigal blossoms. -I dare swear you have listened to an hundred such? Everywhere I have -heard tell of your conquests until I am nigh dead with jealousy." - -"How very absurd!" tittered Cleone. - -"Absurd? Ah, if I could think that!" - -"I do not understand you, sir!" - -"I can only beg that I, too, may worship at those little feet." - -"Mr. Jettan, I can only beg that you will cease to make yourself -ridiculous." - -"If it is ridiculous to adore, then must I refuse to obey you, fairest. -For the sake of one smile, all would I do, save that which is without -my power." - -Cleone's eyes glittered. - -"You have become very adept at flattery, sir." - -"But no! Flattery shall never be among my accomplishments, even were it -necessary, which here"--he smiled ardently--"it most assuredly is not." - -"You surprise me, sir! I thought Paris to be the home of flattery." - -"_On l'a diffamée._ Paris teaches appreciation." - -"La!" Cleone, too, could be affected. "You go too deep for me, Mr. -Jettan! I fear I am no match for your wit. I am but newly come from the -country." The words bit. - -"It is almost inconceivable," he said, studying her with the air of a -connoisseur. - -"Almost as inconceivable as the fact that little more than six months -ago you despised all this!" She made a gesture with her fan towards his -shimmering coat. - -"Was it only six months? It seems to belong to another life. You -remember so well, mademoiselle." - -"I?" Cleone saw her mistake, and made haste to cover it. "No, sir. It -is dear Sir Maurice who remembers." Her eyes sought his face for some -change of expression. But not an eyelash flickered; Mr. Jettan was -still smiling. - -"Now I am desolated!" he sighed. "Mademoiselle Cleone does not remember -the manner of my going? But I see that it is so. She is blessed with -forgetfulness." - -Cleone's heart leaped. Was there a note of _pique_, of hurt, in the -smooth voice? - -"My memory is not of the longest either, mademoiselle, but I am sure -that I am indebted to you." - -"Really? I think you must be mistaken, sir." - -"It is possible," he bowed. "Yet I seem to recollect that 'twas you who -bade me go--to learn to be a gentleman." - -Cleone laughed carelessly. - -"Did I?--It is so long ago, I have forgotten. And--and here is Mr. -Winton come to claim me!" - -Philip glanced round quickly. Young James Winton was threading his way -towards them. Philip sprang up. - -"James!" He held out his hands to the puzzled youth. "You have -forgotten, James? And it is, so Mademoiselle tells me, but six months -since I saw you every day." - -Winton stared. Then suddenly he grasped Philip's jewelled hand. - -"Jettan--Philip! Merciful heavens, man, is it indeed you?" - -"He is quite transformed, is he not?" said Cleone lightly. A little -barb was piercing her heart that Philip should show such pleasure at -seeing James, and merely bored affectation with her. - -Philip's gay laugh rang out. - -"I shall write a sonnet in melancholy vein," he promised. "A sonnet to -"Friends Who Knew Me Not." It will be a _chef-d'[oe]uvre_, and I shall -send it you tied with a sprig of myrtle." - -Winton stepped back the better to observe him. - -"Thunder and turf, tis marvellous! What's this about a sonnet? Don't -tell me ye have turned poet!" - -"In Paris they do not love my verses," mourned Philip. "They would say, -'No, _le petit Philippe se trompe_.' But you shall see! Where are you -staying?" - -"With Darchit--in Jermyn Street. I came to London in my lady's train." -He bowed to Cleone. - -Philip's eyes narrowed. - -"Aha! James, you will come to a card-party that I am giving to-morrow? -I am at 14 Curzon Street." - -"Thank you very much, I shall be delighted. Have you set up a house of -your own?" - -"Sir Humphrey Grandcourt has hired his house to me for a month or so. -My _ménage_ will amuse you. I am ruled by my valet, the redoubtable -François." - -"A French valet!" - -"But yes! He would allow no English servant to insult me with his -boorishness, so I have his cousin for _chef_." He threw a laughing -glance at Cleone. "You would smile, Mademoiselle, could you but hear -his so fierce denunciation of the English race." - -Cleone forced a laugh. - -"I suppose he does not regard you as English, Mr. Jettan?" - -"If I suggest such a thing he accuses me of mocking him. Ah, there is -Miss Florence who beckons me! Mademoiselle will excuse me?" He bowed -with a great flourish. "I shall hope to be allowed to wait on madame, -your aunt. James, do not forget! To-morrow at 14 Curzon Street!" He -swept round on his heel and went quickly to where Mistress Florence -Farmer was seated. Cleone watched him kiss the lady's plump hand, and -saw the ogling glances that Florence sent him. Desperately she sought -to swallow the lump in her throat. She started to flirt with the -adoring James. Out of the corner of his eye Philip watched her. - - * * * * * - -Scalding tears dropped on to Cleone's pillow that night. Philip had -returned, indifferent, _blasé_, even scornful! Philip who had once -loved her so dearly, Philip who had once been so strong and masterful, -was now a dainty, affected Court gallant. Why, why had she sent him -away? And, oh, how dared he treat her with that mocking admiration? -Suddenly Cleone sat up. - -"I hate him!" she told the bed-post. "I hate him, and hate him, and -hate him." - - * * * * * - -Philip was smiling when François disrobed him, a smile that held much -of tenderness. - -"_Cela marche_," decided François. "I go to have a mistress." - - - - - Thirteen - - Sir Maurice Comes to Town - - -A tall gentleman rang the bell of Mr. Thomas Jettan's house with some -vigour. The door was presently opened by the depressed Moggat. - -"Where's your master, Moggat?" demanded the visitor abruptly. - -Moggat held the door wide. - -"In the library, sir. Will you step inside?" - -Sir Maurice swept in. He gave his cloak and hat to Moggat and walked -to the library door. Moggat watched him somewhat fearfully. It was not -often that Sir Maurice showed signs of perturbation. - -"By the way--" Sir Maurice paused, looking back. "My baggage follows -me." - -"Very good, sir." - -Sir Maurice opened the door and disappeared. - - * * * * * - -Thomas was seated at his desk, but at the sound of the opening door he -turned. - -"Why, Maurry!" He sprang up. "Gad, this is a surprise! How are ye, -lad?" He wrung his brother's hand. - -Sir Maurice flung a sheet of paper on to the table. - -"What the devil's the meaning of _that_?" he demanded. - -"Why the heat?" asked the surprised Thomas. - -"Read that--that impertinence!" ordered Sir Maurice. - -Tom picked up the paper and spread it open. At sight of the writing he -smiled. - -"Oh, Philip!" he remarked. - -"Philip? Philip write me that letter? It's no more Philip than--than a -cock-robin!" - -Tom sat down. - -"Oh, yes it is!" he said. "I recognise his hand. Now don't tramp up -and down like that, Maurry! Sit down!" He glanced down the sheet and -smothered a laugh. - -"'My very dear Papa,'" he read aloud. "'I do trust that you are -enjoying your Customary Good Health and that these fogs and bitter -winds have not permeated so far as to Little Fittledean. As you will -observe by the above written address, I have returned to this most -barbarous land. For how long I shall allow myself to be persuaded to -remain I cannot tell you, but after the affinity of Paris and the charm -of the Parisians, London is quite insupportable. But for the present -I remain, _malgré tout_. You will forgive me, I know, that I do not -come to visit you at the Pride. The mere thought of the country at this -season fills me with incalculable dismay. So I suggest, dear Father, -that you honour me by enlivening with your presence this house that I -have acquired from Sir Humphrey Grandcourt. Some small entertainment I -can promise you, and my friends assure me that the culinary efforts of -my _chef_ are beyond compare. An exaggeration, believe me, which one -who has tasted the wonders of a Paris _cuisine_ will easily descry. -I have to convey to you the compliments of M. de Château-Banvau and -others. I would write more but that I am in labour with an ode. -Believe me, Dear Father, thy most devoted, humble, and obedient -son,--PHILIPPE.'" Tom folded the paper. "Very proper," he -remarked. "What's amiss?" - -Sir Maurice had stalked to the window. Now he turned. - -"What's amiss? Everything's amiss! That Philip--my son Philip!--should -write me a--an impertinent letter like that! It's--it's monstrous!" - -"For God's sake, sit down, Maurry! You're as bad as Philip himself for -restlessness! Now I take this as a very dutiful, filial letter." - -"Dutiful be damned!" snorted Sir Maurice. "Has the boy no other -feelings than he shows in that letter? Why did he not come down to see -me?" - -Tom re-opened the letter. - -"The mere thought of the country at this season appalled him. What's -wrong with that? You have said the same." - -"I? I? What matters it what I should have said? I thought Philip cared -for me! He trusts I will enliven his house with my presence! I'm more -like to break my stick across his back!" - -"Not a whit," said Tom, cheerfully. "You sent Philip away to acquire -polish, and I don't know what besides. He has obeyed you. Is it likely -that, being what he now is, he'll fly back to the country? What's the -matter with you, Maurice? Are you grumbling because he has obeyed your -behests?" - -Sir Maurice sank on to the couch. - -"If you but knew how I have missed him and longed for him," he began, -and checked himself. "I am well served," he said bitterly. "I should -have been content to have him as he was." - -"So I thought at the time, but I've changed my opinion." - -"I cannot bear to think of Philip as being callous, flippant, and--a -mere fop!" - -"'Twould be your own fault if he were," said Tom severely. "But he's -not. Something inside him has blossomed forth. Philip is now pure joy." - -Sir Maurice grunted. - -"It's true, lad. That letter--oh, ay! He's a young rascal, but 'twas -to avenge his injured feelings, I take it. He was devilish hurt when -you and Cleone sent him away betwixt you. He's still hurt that you -should have done it. I can't fathom the workings of his mind, but he -assures me they are very complex. He is glad that you sent him, but he -wants you to be sorry. Or rather, Cleone. The lad is very forgiving -to you"--Tom laughed--"but that letter is a piece of devilry--he has -plenty of it, I warn you! He hoped you'd be as angry as you are and -wish your work undone. There's no lack of affection." - -Sir Maurice looked up. - -"He's--the same Philip?" - -"Never think it! In a way he's the same, but there's more of him--ay, -and a score of affectations. In about ten minutes"--he glanced at the -clock--"he'll be here. So you'll see for yourself." - -Sir Maurice straightened himself. He sighed. - -"An old fool, eh, Tom? But it cut me to the quick, that letter." - -"Of course it did, the young devil! Oh, Maurry, Maurry, ye never saw -the like of our Philip!" - -"Is he so remarkable? I heard about that absurd duel, as I told you. -There'll be a reckoning between him and Cleone." - -"Ay. That's what I don't understand. The pair of them are playing -a queer game. Old Sally Malmerstoke told me that Cleone vows she -hates Philip. The chit is flirting outrageously with every man who -comes--always under Philip's nose. And Philip laughs. Yet I'll swear -he means to have her. I don't interfere. They must work out their own -quarrel." - -"Clo doesn't hate Philip," said Sir Maurice. "She was pining for him -until that fool Bancroft read us Satterthwaite's letter. Was it true -that Philip fought over some French hussy?" - -"No, over Clo herself. But he says naught, and if the truth were told, -I believe it's because he has had _affaires_ in Paris, even if that was -not one. He's too dangerously popular." - -"So it seemed from Satterthwaite's account. Is he so popular? I cannot -understand it." - -"He's novel, y'see. I'd a letter from Château-Banvau the other day, -mourning the loss of _ce cher petit_ Philippe, and demanding whether he -had found his heart or no!" - -Sir Maurice drove his cane downwards. - -"By Gad, if Philip's so great a success, it's--it's more than ever I -expected," he ended lamely. - -"Wait till you see him!" smiled Thomas. "The boy's for all the world -like a bit o' quicksilver. He splutters out French almost every time he -opens his mouth, and--here he is!" - -A door banged loudly outside, and a clear, crisp voice floated into the -library from the hall. - -"_Mordieu_, what a climate! Moggat, you rogue, am I not depressed -enough without your glum face to make me more so? Smile, _vieux -crétin_, for the love of God!" - -"Were I to call Moggat one-half of the names Philip bestows on him, -he'd leave me," remarked Tom. "With him, Philip can do no wrong. Now -what's to do?" - -"_Doucement, malheureux!_ Gently, I say! Do you wish to pull my arms -off with the coat? _Ah, voilà!_ Spread it to dry, Moggat, and take care -not to crease it. Yes, that is well!" - -Then came Moggat's voice, very self-conscious. - -"_C'est comme moosoo désire?_" - -There was a sound of hand-clapping, and an amused laugh. - -"_Voyons, c'est fameux!_ Quite the French scholar, eh, Moggat? Where's -my uncle? In the library?" - -Came a quick step across the hall. Philip swirled into the room. - -"Much have I borne in silence, Tom, but this rain--" He broke off. The -next moment he was on one knee before his father, Sir Maurice's thin -hands pressed to his lips. "Father!" - -Tom coughed and walked to the window. - -Sir Maurice drew his hands away. He took Philip's chin in his long -fingers and forced his head up. Silently he scrutinised his son's face. -Then he smiled. - -"You patched and painted puppy-dog," he mimicked softly. - -Philip laughed. His hands found Sir Maurice's again and gripped hard. - -"Alack, too true! Father, you're looking older." - -"Impudent young scapegrace! What would you? I have but one son." - -"And you missed him?" - -"A little," acknowledged Sir Maurice. - -Philip rose to his feet. - -"Ah, but I am glad! And you are sorry you sent him away?" - -"Not now. But when I received this--very." Sir Maurice held out the -sheet of paper. - -"That! Bah!" Philip sent it whirling into the fire. "For that I -apologise. If you had not been hurt--oh, heaven knows what I should -have done! Where is your baggage, Father?" - -"Here by now." - -"Here? But no, no! It must go to Curzon Street!" - -"My dear son, I thank you very much, but an old man is better with an -old man." - -Tom wheeled round. - -"What's that? Who are you calling an old man, Maurry? I'm as young as -ever I was!" - -"In any case, it is to Curzon Street that you come, Father." - -"As often as you wish, dear boy, but I'll stay with Tom." Then, as -Philip prepared to argue the point, "No, Philip, my mind is made up. -Sit down and tell me the tale of your ridiculous duel with Bancroft." - -"Oh, that!" Philip laughed. "It was amusing, but scandalous. My -sympathies were with my adversary." - -"And what was the ode you threatened to read?" - -"An ode to importunate friends, especially composed for the occasion. -They took it from me--Paul and Louis--oh, and Henri de Chatelin! They -do not like my verse." - -Sir Maurice lay back in his seat and laughed till the tears ran down -his cheeks. - -"Gad, Philip, but I wish I'd been there! To hear you declaim an ode -of your own making! Faith, is it really my blunt, brusque, impossible -Philip?" - -"Not at all! It is your elegant, smooth, and wholly possible Philip!" - -Sir Maurice sat up again. - -"Ah! And does this Philip contemplate marriage?" - -"That," said his son, "is on the knees of the gods." - -"I see. Is it woe unto him who seeks to interfere?" - -"_Parfaitement!_" bowed Philip. "I play now--a little game." - -"And Cleone?" - -"Cleone ... I don't know. It is what I wish to find out. Lady -Malmerstoke stands my friend." - -"Trust Sally," said Tom. - -Philip's eyes sparkled. - -"Ah, Tom, Tom, art a rogue! Father, he is in love with her ladyship!" - -"He always has been," answered Sir Maurice. "Even before old -Malmerstoke died." - -Tom cleared his throat. - -"I--" - -"Then why do you not wed her?" demanded Philip. - -"She would not. Now she says--perhaps. We are very good friends," he -added contentedly. "I doubt neither of us is at the age when one loves -with heat." - -"Philip, how do you like Paris?" interrupted Sir Maurice. - -"I cannot tell you, sir! My feeling for Paris and my Paris friends is -beyond all words." - -"Ay. I thought the same. But in the end one is glad to come home." - -"May it please heaven, then, to make the end far, far away," said -Philip. "When I go back, you will go with me, Father." - -"Ah, I am too old for that now," answered Sir Maurice. He smiled -reminiscently. - -"Too old? _Quelle absurdité!_ M. de Château-Banvau has made me swear to -bring you. M. de Richelieu asked when he was to see your face again. A -score--" - -"De Richelieu? Where did you meet him, boy?" - -"At Versailles. He was very kind to me for your sake." - -"Ay, he would be. So you went to Versailles, then!" - -"Often." - -"Philip, I begin to think you are somewhat of a rake. What attracted -you to Versailles?" - -"Many things," parried Philip. - -"Female things?" - -"What curiosity! Sometimes, yes, but not _au sérieux_." - -"Little Philip without a heart, eh?" - -"Who told you that?" Philip leaned forward. - -"Satterthwaite wrote it, or something like it." - -"_Le petit_ Philippe au _C[oe]ur Perdu_. Most of them would give their -eyes to know who the fair unknown may be!" - -"Is it still Cleone?" Sir Maurice looked sharply across at him. - -"It has--never been anyone else," answered Philip simply. - -"I am glad. I want you to marry her, Philip." - -"Sir," said Philip superbly, "I have every intention of so doing." - - - - - Fourteen - - The Strange Behaviour of Mistress Cleone - - -"François, there is one below who desires m'sieu." - -François shook out a fine lace ruffle. - -"_Qui est-ce?_" - -"_Le père de M'sieur_," answered Jacques gloomily. - -François cast the ruffle aside. - -"_Le père de M'sieur!_ I go at once." He vanished out of the door and -scuttled downstairs to the library. Sir Maurice was startled by his -sudden entrance, and raised his eyeglass the better to observe this -very abrupt, diminutive creature. - -François bowed very low. - -"M'sieu, eet ees zat my mastaire 'e ees wiz hees _barbier_. Eef m'sieu -would come up to ze chamber of my mastaire?" - -Sir Maurice smiled. - -"_Assurément. Vous allez marcher en tête?_" - -François' face broke into a delighted smile. - -"_Ah, m'sieur parle Français! Si m'sieur veut me suivre?_" - -"_M'sieur veut bien_," nodded Sir Maurice. He followed François -upstairs to Philip's luxurious bedroom. François put forward a chair. - -"M'sieur will be graciously pleased to seat himself? M'sieur Philippe -will come very soon. It is the visit of the barber, you understand." - -"A serious matter," agreed Sir Maurice. - -"M'sieur understands well. Me, I am valet of M'sieur Philippe." - -"I had guessed it. You are François?" - -"Yes, m'sieur. It is perhaps that M'sieur Philippe has spoken of me?" -He looked anxiously at Sir Maurice. - -"Certainly he has spoken of you," smiled Sir Maurice. - -"It is perhaps--that he tell you I am _un petit singe_?" - -"No, he said no such thing," answered Sir Maurice gravely. "He told me -he possessed a veritable treasure for a valet." - -"Ah!" François clapped his hands. "It is true, m'sieur. I am a very -good valet--oh, but very good!" He skipped to the bed and picked up an -embroidered satin vest. This he laid over a chair-back. - -"The vest of M'sieur Philippe," he said reverently. - -"So I see," said Sir Maurice. "What's he doing, lying abed so late?" - -"_Ah, non, m'sieur!_ He does not lie abed late! Oh, but never, never. -It is that the barber is here, and the tailor--imbeciles, both! They -put M'sieur Philippe in a bad humour with their so terrible stupidity. -He spends an hour explaining what it is that he wishes." François cast -up his eyes. "And they do not understand, no! They are of so great a -density! M'sieur Philippe he become much enraged, naturally." - -"Monsieur Philippe is very particular, eh?" - -François beamed. He was opening various pots in readiness for his -master. - -"Yes, m'sieur. M'sieur Philippe must have everything just as he likes -it." - -At that moment Philip walked in, wrapped in a gorgeous silk robe, and -looking thunderous. When he saw his father his brow cleared. - -"You, sir? Have you waited long?" - -"No, only ten minutes or so. Have you strangled the tailor?" - -Philip laughed. - -"_De près! François_, I will be alone with M'sieur." - -François bowed. He went out with his usual hurried gait. - -Philip sat down before his dressing-table. - -"What do you think of the incomparable François?" he asked. - -"He startled me at first," smiled Sir Maurice. "A droll little -creature." - -"But quite inimitable. You're out early this morning, sir?" - -"My dear Philip, it is close on noon! I have been to see Cleone." - -Philip picked up a nail-polisher and passed it gently across his -fingers. - -"Ah?" - -"Philip, I am worried." - -"Yes?" Philip was intent on his nails. "And why?" - -"I don't understand the child! I could have sworn she was dying for you -to return!" - -Philip glanced up quickly. - -"That is true?" - -"I thought so. At home--yes, I am certain of it! But now she seems -a changed being." He frowned, looking at his son. Philip was again -occupied with his hands. "She is in excellent spirits; she tells me -that she enjoys every moment of every day. She was in ecstasies! I -spoke of you and she was quite indifferent. What have you done to make -her so, Philip?" - -"I do not quite know. I have become what she would have had me. To test -her, I aped the mincing extravagance of the typical town-gallant. She -was surprised at first, and then angry. That pleased me. I thought: -Cleone does not like the thing I am; she would prefer the real me. -Then I waited on Lady Malmerstoke. Cleone was there. She was, as you -say, quite changed. I suppose she was charming; it did not seem so to -me. She laughed and flirted with her fan; she encouraged me to praise -her beauty; she demanded the madrigal I had promised her. When I read -it she was delighted. She asked her aunt if I were not a dreadful, -flattering creature. Then came young Winton, who is, I take it, -_amoureux à en perdre la tête_. To him she was all smiles, behaving -like some Court miss. Since then she has always been the same. She is -kind to every man who comes her way, and to me. You say you do not -understand? Nor do I. She is not the Cleone I knew, and not the Cleone -I love. She makes herself as--Clothilde de Chaucheron. _Charmante, -spirituelle_, one to whom a man makes trifling love, but not the one a -man will wed." He spoke quietly, and with none of his usual sparkle. - -Sir Maurice leaned forward, striking his fist on his knee. - -"But she is not that type of woman, Philip! That's what I can't -understand!" - -Philip shrugged slightly. - -"She is not, you say? I wonder now whether that is so. She flirted -before, you remember, with Bancroft." - -"Ay! To tease you!" - -"_Cela se peut._ This time it is not to tease me. That I know." - -"But, Philip, if it is not for that, why does she do it?" - -"Presumably because she so wishes. It is possible that the adulation -she receives has flown to her head. It is almost as though she sought -to captivate me." - -"Cleone would never do such a thing!" - -"Well, sir, you will see. Come with us this afternoon. Tom and I are -bidden to take a dish of Bohea with her ladyship." - -"Sally has already asked me. I shall certainly come. _Mordieu_, what -ails the child?" - -Philip rubbed some rouge on to his cheeks. - -"If you can tell me the answer to that riddle, sir, I shall--thank you." - -"You do care, Philip? Still?" He watched Philip pick up the haresfoot -with fingers that trembled a little. - -"Care?" said Philip. "I--yes, sir. I care--greatly." - - * * * * * - -Lady Malmerstoke glanced critically at her niece. - -"You are very gay, Clo," she remarked. - -"Gay?" cried Cleone. "How could I be sober, Aunt Sally? I am enjoying -myself so much!" - -Lady Malmerstoke pushed a bracelet farther up one plump arm. - -"H'm!" she said. "It's very unfashionable, my dear, not to say -_bourgeois_." - -"Oh, fiddle!" answered Cleone. "Who thinks that?" - -"I really don't know. It is what one says. To be in the mode you must -be fatigued to death." - -"Then I am not in the mode," laughed Cleone. "Don't forget, Aunt, that -I am but a simple country-maid!" She swept a mock curtsey. - -"No," said her ladyship placidly. "One is not like to forget it." - -"What do you mean?" demanded Cleone. - -"Don't eat me," sighed her aunt. "'Tis your principal charm--freshness." - -"Oh!" said Cleone doubtfully. - -"Or it was," added Lady Malmerstoke, folding her hands and closing her -eyes. - -"Was! Aunt Sally, I insist that you tell me what it is you mean!" - -"My love, you know very well what I mean." - -"No, I do not! I--I--Aunt Sally, wake up!" - -Her ladyship's brown eyes opened. - -"Well, my dear, if you must have it, 'tis this--you make yourself cheap -by your flirtatious ways." - -Cleone's cheeks flamed. - -"I--oh, I don't f--flirt! I--Auntie, how can you say so?" - -"Quite easily," said her ladyship. "Else had I left it unsaid. Since -this Mr. Philip Jettan has returned you have acquired all the tricks of -the sex. I do not find it becoming in you, but mayhap I am wrong." - -"It has nothing to do with Ph--Mr. Jettan!" - -"I beg your pardon, my dear, I thought it had. But if you wish to -attract him--" - -"Aunt!" almost shrieked Cleone. - -"I wish you would not interrupt," complained Lady Malmerstoke wearily. -"I said if you wish to attract him you should employ less obvious -methods." - -"H--how _dare_ you, Aunt Sally! I wish to attract him? I hate him! I -hate the very sight of him!" - -The sleepy brown eyes grew more alert. - -"Is that the way the wind lies?" murmured Lady Malmerstoke. "What's he -done?" she added, ever practical. - -"He hasn't done anything. He--I--" - -"Then what hasn't he done?" - -"Aunt Sally--Aunt Sally--you--I won't answer! He--nothing at all! 'Tis -merely that I do not like him." - -"It's not apparent in your manner," remarked her ladyship. "Are you -determined that he shall fall in love with you?" - -"Of course I never thought of such a thing! I--why should I?" - -"For the pleasure of seeing him at your feet, and then kicking him -away. Revenge, my love, revenge." - -"How dare you say such things, Aunt! It--it isn't true!" - -Lady Malmerstoke continued to pursue her own line of thought. - -"From all I can see of this Philip, he's not the man to be beaten by a -chit of a girl. I think he is in love with you. Have a care, my dear. -Men with chins like his are not safe. I've had experience, and I know. -He'll win in the end, if he has a mind to do so." - -"Mind!" Cleone was scornful. "He has no mind above clothes or poems!" - -Lady Malmerstoke eyed her lazily. - -"Who told you that, Clo?" - -"No one. I can see for myself." - -"There is nothing blinder than a very young woman," philosophised her -ladyship. "One lives and one learns. Your Philip--" - -"He isn't my Philip!" cried Cleone, nearly in tears. - -"You put me out," complained her aunt. "Your Philip is no fool. He's -dangerous. On account of that chin, you understand. Don't have him, my -dear; he's one of your masterful men. They are the worst; old Jeremy -Fletcher was like that. Dear me, what years ago that was!" - -"He--he's no more masterful than--than his uncle!" - -"No, thank heaven, Tom's an easy-going creature," agreed her aunt. "A -pity Philip is not the same." - -"But I tell you he is! If--if he were more masterful I should like him -better! I like a man to be a man and not--a--a pranked-out doll!" - -"How you have changed!" sighed her aunt. "I thought that was just what -you did not want. Didn't you send your Philip away to become a beau?" - -"He is not my Philip--Aunt! I--no, of course I did--didn't. And if -I d-did, it was very st-stupid of me, and now I'd rather have a--a -masterful man." - -"Ay, we're all like that in our youth," nodded her aunt. "When you -grow older you'll appreciate the milder sort. I nearly married Jerry -Fletcher. Luckily I changed my mind and had Malmerstoke. God rest his -soul, poor fellow! Now I shall have Tom, I suppose." - -Cleone broke into a hysterical laugh. - -"Aunt, you are incorrigible! How can you talk so?" - -"Dreadful, isn't it? But I was always like that. Very attractive, -you know. I never was beautiful, but I made a great success. I quite -shocked my poor mother. But it was all a pose, of course. It made -me noticed. I was so amusing and novel--like you, my love, but in a -different way. All a pose." - -"Why, is it still a pose, Aunt?" - -"Oh, now it's a habit. So much less fatiguing, my dear. But to return -to what I was saying, you--" - -"Don't--don't let's talk--about me," begged Cleone unsteadily. -"I--hardly know what possesses me, but--Oh, there's the bell!" - -Lady Malmerstoke dragged herself up. - -"Already? Clo, is my wig on straight? Drat the men, I've not had a wink -of sleep the whole afternoon. A nice hag I shall look to-night. Which -of them is it, my dear?" - -Cleone was peering out of the window. - -"'Tis James and Jennifer, Aunt." She came back into the room. "It seems -an age since I saw Jenny." - -Lady Malmerstoke studied herself in her little mirror. - -"Is she the child who lives down in the country?" - -"Yes--Jenny Winton, such a sweet little thing. She has come up with Mr. -Winton for a few weeks. I am so glad she managed to induce him to bring -her!" Cleone ran forward as the two Wintons were ushered in. "Jenny, -dear!" - -Jennifer was half a head shorter than Cleone, a shy child with soft -grey eyes and mouse-coloured hair. She flung her arms round Cleone's -neck. - -"Oh, Clo, how prodigious elegant you look!" she whispered. - -"And oh, Jenny, how pretty you look!" retorted Cleone. "Aunt Sally, -this is my dear Jennifer!" - -Jennifer curtseyed. - -"How do you do, ma'am?" she said in a voice fluttering with nervousness. - -"I am very well, child. Come and sit down beside me." She patted the -couch invitingly. "Is this your first visit to town, my dear?" - -Jennifer sat down on the edge of the couch. She stole an awed glance at -Lady Malmerstoke's powdered wig. - -"Yes, ma'am. It is so exciting." - -"I'll warrant it is! And have you been to many balls, yet?" - -"N-no." The little face clouded over. "Papa does not go out very much," -she explained. - -Cleone sank on to a stool beside them, her silks swirling about her. - -"Oh, Auntie, please take Jenny to the Dering ball next week!" she said -impulsively. "You will come, won't you, sweet?" - -Jennifer blushed and stammered. - -"To be sure," nodded her ladyship. "Of course she will come! James, -sit down! You should know by now how the sight of anyone on their -feet fatigues me, silly boy! Dear me, child, how like you are to your -brother! Are you looking at my wig? Monstrous, isn't it?" - -Jennifer was covered with confusion. - -"Oh, no, ma'am, I--" - -Her ladyship chuckled. - -"Of course you were. How could you help it? Cleone tells me it is a -ridiculous creation, don't you, my love?" - -"I do, and I truly think it!" answered Cleone, her eyes dancing. "'Tis -just a little more impossible than the last." - -"There!" Lady Malmerstoke turned back to Jennifer. "She is an -impertinent hussy, is she not?" - -"Could she be impertinent?" asked James fondly. - -"Very easily she could, and is," nodded her ladyship. "A minx." - -"Oh!" Jennifer was shocked. - -"Don't attend to her!" besought Cleone. "Sometimes she is very -ill-natured, as you see." - -Jennifer ventured a very small laugh. She had resolutely dragged her -eyes from the prodigious wig, and was now gazing at Cleone. - -"You--you seem quite different," she told her. - -Cleone shook her golden head. - -"'Tis only that Aunt Sally has tricked me out in fine clothes," she -replied. "I'm--oh, I am the same!" she laughed, but not very steadily. -"Am I not, James?" - -"Always the same," he said ardently. "Always beautiful." - -"I will not have it," said Lady Malmerstoke severely. "You'll turn the -child's head, if 'tis not turned already." - -"Oh, it is, it is!" cried Cleone. "I am quite too dreadfully vain! And -there is the bell again! James, who is it? It's vastly bad-mannered to -peep, but you may do it. Quick!" - -James went to the window. - -"Too late," he said. "They are in, whoever they are." - -"'Twill be Thomas," decided Lady Malmerstoke. "I wonder if he is any -fatter?" - -Jennifer giggled. She had never met anything quite like this queer, -voluminous old lady before. - -"Is--is Sir Maurice coming?" she inquired. - -"I told him to be sure to come," answered her ladyship. "You know him, -don't you?" - -"Oh, yes!" breathed Jennifer. - -"Sah Maurice and Mr. Jettan," announced the little black page. - -"Drat!" said her ladyship. She rose. "Where's your son?" she demanded, -shaking her finger at Sir Maurice. - -Sir Maurice kissed her hand. - -"Sally, you grow ruder and ruder," he reproved her. - -"Maurice," she retorted, "you were ever a punctilious ramrod. Philip's -the only one of you I want to see. He says such audacious things," she -explained. "So gratifying to an old woman. Well, Tom?" - -Thomas bowed very low. - -"Well, Sally?" - -"That's not polite," she said. "You can see I am very well. I declare -you are growing thinner!" - -Thomas drew himself up sheepishly. - -"Am I, my dear?" - -Her ladyship gave a little crow of delight. - -"You've been taking exercise!" she exclaimed. "If you continue at this -rate--I vow I'll marry you in a month!" - -"I wish you would, my dear," said Tom seriously. - -"Oh, I shall one day, never fear!" She caught sight of Jennifer's -astonished expression and chuckled. "Now, Tom, behave yourself! You are -shocking the child!" she whispered. - -"I? What have I done? She's shocked at your forwardness!" - -Sir Maurice had walked over to Cleone. She held out her hands, and he -made as if to kiss them. She snatched them back. - -"Oh, no, no!" she cried. "Sir Maurice!" - -He smiled down at her upturned face. - -"In truth, my dear, you've so changed from the little Cleone I know -that I dare take no liberties." - -Her mouth quivered suddenly; she caught at the lapels of his coat. - -"No, no, don't say it, sir! I am the same! Oh, I am, I am!" - -"What's Cleone doing?" inquired Lady Malmerstoke. "Kissing Maurice? Now -who's forward?" - -Cleone smiled through her tears. - -"You are, Aunt Sally. And you are in a very teasing humour!" - -Sir Maurice pressed her hands gently. He turned to the curtseying -Jennifer. - -"Why, Jenny? This is a surprise! How are you, child?" - -"Very well, I thank you, sir," she answered. "Very happy to be in -London." - -"The first visit! Where are you staying?" - -"With Grandmamma, out at Kensington," she said. - -Lady Malmerstoke clutched Tom's arm. - -"Kensington, poor child!" she murmured. "For heaven's sake everyone sit -down! No, Maurice, that chair is too low for me. I'll take the couch." -She proceeded to do so. As a matter of course, Tom sat down beside -her. The others arranged themselves in two pairs, Sir Maurice leading -Jennifer to a chair near the fire, and Cleone going to the window-seat -with the admiring James. - -Five minutes later the bell rang for the third time, and Jennifer -received the worst shock of the afternoon. The page announced Mr. -Philip Jettan, and Philip came into the room. - -Sir Maurice felt Jennifer's start of surprise, and saw her stare past -him as though she saw at least three ghosts. - -Philip went to his hostess and dropped on one knee to kiss her hand. -He was dressed in puce and old gold. Jennifer thought she had never -seen anything so gorgeous, or so astonishing. She did not believe for a -moment that it was her old playfellow, Philip. - -"Madame, I am late!" said Philip. "I ask a thousand pardons." - -"And you are sure you'll receive them!" chuckled her ladyship. "I'd -give them, but that it would fatigue me so. Where's that ode? Don't -tell me you've forgotten it!" - -"Forgotten it! Never! It is a very beautiful ode, too, in my best -style. _Le voici!_" He handed her a rolled parchment sheet, tied with -mauve ribbons, and with violets cunningly inserted. - -"You delightful boy!" cried her ladyship, inspecting it. "Violets! How -did you know they were my favourite flowers?" - -"I knew instinctively," answered Philip solemnly. - -"Of course you did! But how charming of you! I declare I daren't untie -it till the violets are dead. Look, Tom, is it not pretty? And isn't -Philip sweet to write me an ode?" - -"I am looking," said Tom gloomily. "Ye rascal, how dare you try to -steal my lady's heart away from me?" - -"I should be more than human an I did not!" replied Philip promptly. - -Lady Malmerstoke was showing the dainty roll to Sir Maurice. - -"An ode to my wig," she told him. "Written in French." - -"An ode to your what?" asked Thomas. - -"My wig, Tom, my wig! You were not here when we discussed it. Cleone -thought it a prodigious ugly wig, but Philip would have none of it. -He said such pretty things about it, and promised me an ode for it! -Philip, did I thank you?" - -Philip was bowing over Cleone's hand. He turned. - -"With your eyes, madame, eloquently! But I need no thanks; it was an -honour and a joy." - -"Think of that!" nodded my lady, looking from Tom to Sir Maurice. -"Philip, come and be presented to Mistress Jennifer. Or do you know -her?" - -Philip released Cleone's hand, and swung round. - -"Jennifer! Of course I know her!" He went across the room. "Why, Jenny, -where do you spring from? How are you?" - -Jennifer gazed up at him with wide eyes. - -"Philip? Is--is it really--you?" she whispered. - -"You didn't know me? Jenny, how unkind! Surely I haven't changed as -much as that?" - -"Y-you have," she averred. "More!" - -"I have not, I swear I have not! Father, go away! Let me sit here and -talk to Jennifer!" - -Only too glad to obey, Sir Maurice rose. - -"He is very peremptory and autocratic, isn't he, my dear?" he smiled. - -Philip sank into the vacated chair. - -"I--I feel I ought to call you Mr. Jettan!" said Jennifer. - -"Jenny! If you dare to do such a thing I shall--I shall--" - -"What will you do?" - -"Write a canzonet to your big eyes!" he laughed. - -Jennifer blushed, and her lips trembled into a smile. - -"Will you really? I should like that, I think, Mr. Jettan." - -"It shall be ready by noon to-morrow," said Philip at once, "if you -will promise not to misname me!" - -"But--" - -"Jenny, I vow I have not changed so much! 'Tis only my silly clothes!" - -"That's--what Clo said when I told her _she_ had changed." - -"Oh!" Philip shot a glance towards the unconscious Cleone. "Did she say -that?" - -"Yes. But I think she has changed, don't you?" - -"_De tête en pieds_," said Philip slowly. - -"What is that?" Jennifer looked rather alarmed. - -Philip turned back to her. - -"That is a foolish habit, Jenny. They say I chatter French all day. -Which is very affected." - -"French? Do you talk French now? How wonderful!" breathed Jennifer. -"Say something else! Please!" - -"_La lumière de tes beaux yeux me pénètre jusqu'au c[oe]ur._" He bowed, -smiling. - -"Oh! What does that mean?" - -"It wouldn't be good for you to know," answered Philip gravely. - -"Oh! but I would like to know, I think," she said naïvely. - -"I said that--you have very beautiful eyes." - -"Did you? How--how dreadful of you! And you won't forget the--the -can--can--what you were going to write for me, will you?" - -"The canzonet. No, I think it must be a sonnet. And the flower--alas, -your flower is out of season!" - -"Is it? What is my flower?" - -"A daisy." - -She considered this. - -"I do not like daisies very much. Haven't I another flower?" - -"Yes, a snowdrop." - -"Oh, that is pretty!" She clapped her hands. "Is it too late for -snowdrops?" - -"I defy it to be too late!" said Philip. "You shall have them if I have -to fly to the ends of the earth for them!" - -Jennifer giggled. - -"But you couldn't, could you? Cleone! Cleone!" - -Cleone came across the room. - -"Yes, Jenny? Has Mr. Jettan been saying dreadfully flattering things to -you?" - -"N--yes, I think he has! And he says I must still call him Philip. And -oh! he is going to write a--a sonnet to my eyes, tied with snowdrops! -Mr. J--Philip, what is Cleone's flower?" - -Philip had risen. He put a chair forward for Cleone. - -"Can you ask, Jenny? What but a rose?" - -Cleone sat down. Her lips smiled steadily. - -"A rose? Surely it's a flaunting flower, sir?" - -"Ah, mademoiselle, it must be that you have never seen a rose just -bursting from the bud!" - -"Oh, la! I am overcome, sir! And I have not yet thanked you for the -bouquet you sent me this morning!" - -Philip's eyes travelled to the violets at her breast. - -"I did not send violets," he said mournfully. - -Cleone's eyes flashed. - -"No. These"--she touched the flowers caressingly--"I have from Sir -Deryk Brenderby." - -"He is very fortunate, mademoiselle. Would that I were also!" - -"I think you are, sir. Mistress Ann Nutley wore your carnations -yesterday the whole evening." Cleone found that she was looking -straight into his eyes. Hurriedly she looked away, but a pulse was -beating in her throat. For one fleeting instant she had seen the old -Philip, grave, honest, a little appealing. If only--if only-- - -"Mr. Jett--I mean Philip! Will you teach me to say something in French?" - -"Why, of course, _chérie_. What would you say?" - -The pulse stopped its excited beating; the blue eyes lost their wistful -softness. Cleone turned to James, who stood at her elbow. - - - - - Fifteen - - Lady Malmerstoke on Husbands - - -"And he brought it himself, yesterday morning, tied with snowdrops. I -don't know how he got them, for they are over, are they not, Clo? But -there they were, with the prettiest verse you can imagine. It said my -eyes were twin pools of grey! Isn't that beautiful?" - -Cleone jerked one shoulder. - -"It is not very original," she said. - -"Don't you like it?" asked Jennifer reproachfully. - -Cleone was ashamed of her flash of ill-humour. - -"Yes, dear, of course I do. So Mr. Jettan brought it to you himself, -did he?" - -"Indeed, yes! And stayed a full hour, talking to Papa and to me. -What do you think? He has begged me to be sure and dance with him on -Wednesday! Is it not kind of him?" - -"Very," said Cleone dully. - -"I cannot imagine why he should want them," Jennifer prattled on. -"Jamie says he is at Mistress Nutley's feet. Is she very lovely, Clo?" - -"I don't know. Yes, I suppose she is." - -"Philip is teaching me to speak French. It is so droll, and he laughs -at my accent. Can you speak French, Clo?" - -"A little. No doubt he would laugh at my accent if he ever heard it." - -"Oh, I do not think so! He could not, could he? Clo, I asked if he did -not think you were very beautiful, and he said--" - -"Jenny, you must not ask things like that!" - -"He did not mind! Truly, he did not! He just laughed--he is always -laughing, Clo!--and said that there was no one who did not think so. -Was not that neat?" - -"Very," said Cleone. - -Jennifer drew nearer. - -"Cleone, may I tell you a secret?" - -A fierce pain shot through Cleone. - -"A secret? What is it?" she asked quickly. - -"Why, Clo, how strange you look! 'Tis only that I know James to be in -love with--you!" - -Cleone sank back. She started to laugh from sheer relief. - -"I do not see that it is funny," said Jennifer, hurt. - -"No, no, dear! It--it is not that--I mean, of course, of course, I knew -that James was--was--fond of me." - -"Did you? Oh--oh, are you going to marry him?" Jennifer's voice -squeaked with excitement. - -"Jenny, you ask such dreadful questions! No, I am not." - -"But--but he loves you, Clo! Don't you love him?" - -"Not like that. James only thinks he loves me. He's too young. I--Tell -me about your dress, dear!" - -"For the ball?" Jennifer sat up, nothing loth. "'Tis of white silk--" - -"Sir Deryk Brenderby!" - -Jennifer started. - -"Oh, dear!" she said regretfully. - -A tall, loose-limbed man came in. - -"Fair Mistress Cleone! I am happy, indeed, to have found you in! I kiss -your hands, dear lady!" - -Cleone drew them away, smiling. - -"Mistress Jennifer Winton, Sir Deryk." - -Brenderby seemed to become suddenly aware of Jenny's presence. He -bowed. Jennifer curtseyed demurely, and took refuge behind her friend. - -Sir Deryk lowered himself into a chair. - -"Mistress Cleone, can you guess why I have come?" - -"To see me!" said Cleone archly. - -"That is the obvious, fair tormentor! Another reason had I." - -"The first should be enough, sir," answered Cleone, with downcast eyes. - -"And is, Most Beautiful. But the other reason concerns you also." - -"La! You intrigue me, sir! Pray, what is it?" - -"To beg, on my knees, that you will dance with me on Wednesday!" - -"Oh, I don't know!" Cleone shook her head. "I doubt all the dances are -gone." - -"Ah, no, dearest lady! Not all!" - -"Indeed, I think so! I cannot promise anything." - -"But you give me hope?" - -"I will not take it from you," said Cleone. "Perhaps Jennifer will give -you a dance." - -Sir Deryk did not look much elated. But he bowed to Jennifer. - -"May that happiness be mine, madam?" - -"Th--thank you," stammered Jennifer. "If you please!" - -Sir Deryk bowed again and straightway forgot her existence. - -"You wear my primroses, fairest!" he said to Cleone. "I scarce dared to -hope so modest a posy would be so honoured." - -Cleone glanced down at the pale yellow blooms. - -"Oh, are they yours? I had forgot," she said cruelly. - -"Ah, Cleone!" - -Cleone raised her brows. - -"My name, sir?" - -"Mistress Cleone," corrected Brenderby, bowing. - -Lady Malmerstoke chose that moment at which to billow into the room. -She leaned on the arm of one Mr. Jettan. - -"Philip, you are a sad fellow! You do not mean one word of what you -say! Oh, lud! I have chanced on a reception. Give ye good den, Jenny, -my dear. Sir Deryk? Thus early in the morning? I think you know Mr. -Jettan?" - -The two men bowed. - -"I have the pleasure, Lady Malmerstoke," said Brenderby. "I did not see -you last night, Jettan? You were not at Gregory's card-party?" - -"Last night?--last night? No, I was at White's with my father. -Mademoiselle, your very obedient! _Et la petite!_" - -"_Bonjour, monsieur!_" ventured Jennifer shyly. - -Philip swept her a leg. - -"_Mademoiselle a fait des grands progrès_," he said. - -She wrinkled her brow. - -"Great--progress?" she hazarded. - -"Of course! And how is mademoiselle?" - -"Very well, I thank you, sir." - -Lady Malmerstoke sank into a large armchair. - -"Well, I trust I don't intrude?" she remarked. "Clo, where is my -embroidery?" She turned to her guests. "I never set a stitch, of -course. It would fatigue me too much. But it looks industrious to have -it by me, doesn't it?" - -Cleone and Brenderby had walked to the table in search of the missing -embroidery. Cleone looked over her shoulder. - -"You must not believe what she says," she told them. "Aunt Sarah -embroiders beautifully. She is not nearly as lazy as she would have you -think." - -"Not lazy, my love--indolent. A much nicer word. Thank you, my dear." -She received her stitchery and laid it down. "I will tell you all a -secret. Oh, Philip knows! Philip, you need not listen." - -Philip was perched on a chair-arm. - -"A million thanks, Aunt!" - -"That is very unkind of you!" she reproached him. "You tell my secret -before ever I have time to say a word!" - -"_Eh bien!_ You should not have suggested that I did not want to listen -to your voice." - -"When I am, indeed, your aunt, I shall talk to you very seriously about -flattering old women," she said severely. - -Cleone clapped her hands. - -"Oh, Aunt Sally! You are going to wed Mr. Jettan?" - -"One of them," nodded her aunt. "I gather that this one"--she smiled up -at Philip--"is going to wed Someone Else. And I do not think I would -have him in any case." - -"And now who is unkind?" cried Philip. "I've a mind to run away with -you as you enter the church!" - -Cold fear was stealing through Cleone. Mechanically she congratulated -her aunt. Through a haze she heard Brenderby's voice and Jennifer's. So -Philip was going to marry Someone Else? No doubt it was Ann Nutley, the -designing minx! - -When Philip came presently to her side she was gayer than ever, -sparkling with merriment, and seemingly without a care in the world. -She drew Sir Deryk into the conversation, flirting outrageously. She -parried all Philip's sallies and laughed at Sir Deryk's witticisms. -Then Philip went to talk to Jennifer. A pair of hungry, angry, jealous, -and would-be careless blue eyes followed him and grew almost hard. - -When the guests had gone Cleone felt as though her head were full of -fire. Her cheeks burned, her eyes were glittering. Lady Malmerstoke -looked at her. - -"You are hot, my love. Open the window." - -Cleone obeyed, cooling her cheeks against the glass panes. - -"How very shy that child is!" remarked my lady. - -"Jenny? Yes. Very, is she not?" - -"I thought Sir Deryk might have noticed her a little more than he did." - -"He had no chance, had he? She was quite monopolised." - -Her ladyship cast a shrewd glance towards the back of Cleone's head. -She smiled unseen. - -"Well, my love, to turn to other matters, which is it to be--Philip or -Sir Deryk?" - -Cleone started. - -"What do you mean, Aunt? Which is it to _be_?" - -"Which are you going to smile upon? You have given both a deal of -encouragement. I don't count young James, of course. He's a babe." - -"Please, please--" - -"I don't like Sir Deryk. No, I don't like him at all. He has no true -politeness, or he would have talked a little more to me, or to Jenny. -Which do you intend to wed, my dear?" - -"Neither?" - -"My dear Cleone!" Her ladyship was shocked. "Then why do you encourage -them to make love to you? Now be advised by me! Have Sir Deryk!" - -Cleone gave a trembling laugh. - -"I thought you did not like him?" - -"No more I do. But that's not to say he'd make a bad husband. On the -contrary. He'd let you do as you please, and he'd not be for ever -pestering you with his presence." - -"For these very reasons I'll none of him!" - -"Then that leaves Philip?" - -Cleone whirled about. - -"Whom I would not marry were he the last man in the world!" - -"Luckily he is not. Don't be so violent, my dear." - -Cleone stood for a moment, irresolute. Then she burst into tears and -ran out of the room. - -Lady Malmerstoke leaned back against the cushions and closed her eyes. - -"There's hope for you yet, Philip," she remarked, and prepared to go -to sleep. It was not to be. Barely five minutes later Sir Maurice was -ushered into the room. - -Her ladyship sat up, a hand to her wig. - -"Really, Maurice, you should know better than to take a woman -unawares!" she said severely. "Your family has been in and out the -house all the morning. What's the matter now?" - -Sir Maurice kissed her hand. - -"First, my heartiest congratulations, Sarah! I have just seen Tom." - -If a lady could grin, Sarah Malmerstoke grinned then. - -"Thank you, Maurice. And how did you find Tom?" - -"Quite incoherent," said Sir Maurice. "He has talked a deal of nonsense -about love-passions belonging only to the young, but I never saw a man -so madly elated in my life." - -"How nice!" sighed my lady blissfully. "And what's your second point?" - -Sir Maurice walked to the fire and stared into it. - -"Sally, it's Cleone." - -"Dear me! What's to do?" - -"If anyone can help me, it's you," he began. - -Her ladyship held up her hands. - -"No, Maurice, no! You're too old!" - -"You ridiculous woman!" He smiled a little. "Does she care for Philip, -or does she not?" - -"Well"--my lady bit her finger--"I've been asking her that question, or -one like it, myself." - -"What did she say?" - -"That she wouldn't marry him were he the last man in the world." - -Sir Maurice looked at her wretchedly. - -"What's come over her? I thought--She said nothing more?" - -"Not a word. She burst into tears and fled." - -His face brightened. - -"Surely that augurs well for him?" - -"Very well," nodded my lady. "But--" - -"But what? Tell me, Sally!" - -"You're very anxious," she observed. - -"Of course I am anxious! I tell you Philip is head over ears in love -with the child! And she--" - -"And she," finished her ladyship deliberately, "will need a deal of -convincing that it is so. We are told that Philip is in love with Ann -Nutley. We know that Philip trifled elegantly with various French -ladies. We see him being kind to little Jennifer. And so on." - -"But he means nothing! You know that!" - -"I? Does it matter what I know? It is what Cleone knows, but there's -naught under the sun so unreasonable as a maid in love." - -"But if Philip assures her--" - -"Pho!" said her ladyship, and snapped her fingers. "Pho!" - -"She wouldn't believe it?" - -"She might. But she might not choose to show it." - -"But it's ridiculous! It's--" - -"Of course. All girls are ridiculous." - -"Sally, don't be tiresome! What's to be done?" - -"Leave 'em alone," counselled her ladyship. "There's no good to be got -out of interfering. Philip must play his own game." - -"He intends to. But he does not know whether she loves him or not!" - -"You can tell him from me that there is hope, but that he must go -carefully. And now I'm going to sleep. Good bye, Maurice." - - - - - Sixteen - - Mistress Cleone Finds There Is No Safety in Numbers - - -When Philip entered the ballroom of my lady Dering's house, on -Wednesday evening, Lady Malmerstoke had already arrived. Cleone was -dancing with Sir Deryk; Jennifer was sitting beside her ladyship, -looking very shy and very bewildered. As soon as he could do so, Philip -made his way to that end of the room. - -Lady Malmerstoke welcomed him with a laugh. - -"Good even, Philip! Have you brought your papa?" - -Philip shook his head. - -"He preferred to go to White's with Tom. Jenny, you'll dance with me, -will you not? Remember, you promised!" - -Jennifer raised her eyes. - -"I--I doubt I--cannot. I--I have danced so few times, sir." - -"Don't tell me those little feet cannot dance, _chérie_!" - -Jennifer glanced down at them. - -"It's monstrous kind of you, Philip--but--but are you sure you want to -lead me out?" - -Philip offered her his arm. - -"I see you are in a very teasing mood, Jenny," he scolded. - -Jennifer rose. - -"Well, I will--but--oh, I am very nervous! I expect you dance so well." - -"I don't think I do, but I am sure you under-rate your dancing. Let us -essay each other!" - - * * * * * - -From across the room Cleone saw them. She promptly looked away, but -contrived, nevertheless, to keep an eye on their movements. She saw -Philip presently lead Jenny to a chair and sit talking to her. Then he -hailed a passing friend and presented him to Jennifer. Cleone watched -him walk across the room to a knot of men. He returned to Jennifer with -several of them. Unreasoning anger shook Cleone. Why did Philip care -what happened to Jennifer? Why was he so assiduous in his attentions? -She told herself she was an ill-natured cat, but she was still angry. -From Jennifer Philip went to Ann Nutley. - -Sir Deryk stopped fanning Cleone. - -"There he goes! I declare, Philip Jettan makes love to every pretty -woman he meets! Just look at them!" - -Cleone was looking. Her little teeth were tightly clenched. - -"Mr. Jettan is a flatterer," she said. - -"Always so abominably French, too. Mistress Ann seems amused. I believe -Jettan is a great favourite with the ladies of Paris." - -Suddenly Cleone remembered that duel that Philip had fought "over the -fair name of some French maid." - -"Yes?" she said carelessly. "Of course, he is very handsome." - -"Do you think so? Oh, here he comes! Evidently the lovely Ann does not -satisfy him.... Your servant, sir!" - -Philip smiled and bowed. - -"Mademoiselle, may I have the honour of leading you out?" he asked. - -Above all, she must not show Philip that she cared what he did. - -"Oh, I have but this instant sat down!" she said. "I protest I am -fatigued and very hot!" - -"I know of a cool withdrawing-room," said Brenderby at once. "Let me -take you to it, fairest!" - -"It's very kind, Sir Deryk, but I do not think I will go. If I might -have a glass of ratafia?" she added plaintively, looking at Philip. - -For once he was backward in responding. Sir Deryk bowed. - -"At once, dear lady! I go to procure it!" - -"Oh, thank you, sir!" This was not what Cleone wanted at all. "Well, -Mr. Jettan, you have not yet fled to Paris?" - -Philip sat down beside her. - -"No, mademoiselle, not yet. To-night will decide whether I go or stay." -His voice was rather stern. - -"Indeed? How vastly exciting!" - -"Is it not! I am going to ask you a plain question, Cleone. Will you -marry me?" - -Cleone gasped in amazement. Unreasoning fury shook her. That Philip -should dare to come to her straight from the smiles of Ann Nutley! She -glanced at him. He was quite solemn. Could it be that he mocked her? -She forced herself to speak lightly. - -"I can hardly suppose that you are serious, sir!" - -"I am in earnest, Cleone, never more so. We have played at -cross-purposes long enough." - -His voice sent a thrill through her. Almost he was the Philip of Little -Fittledean. Cleone forced herself to remember that he was not. - -"Cross-purposes, sir? I fail to understand you!" - -"Yes? Have you ever been honest with me, Cleone?" - -"Have you ever been honest with me, Mr. Jettan?" she said sharply. - -"Yes, Cleone. Before you sent me away I was honest with you. When I -came back, no. I wished to see whether you wanted me as I was, or as I -pretended to be. You foiled me. Now I am again honest with you. I say -that I love you, and I want you to be my wife." - - * * * * * - -"You say that you love me...." Cleone tapped her fan on her knee. -"Perhaps you will continue to be honest with me, sir. Am I the only one -you have loved?" - -"You are the only one." - -The blue eyes flashed. - -"And what of the ladies of the French Court, Mr. Jettan? What of a -certain duel you fought with a French husband? You can explain that, no -doubt?" - -Philip was silent for a moment, frowning. - -"So the news of that absurd affair reached you, Cleone?" - -She laughed, clenching her teeth. - -"Oh, yes, sir! It reached me. A pity, was it not?" - -"A great pity, Cleone, if on that gossip you judge me." - -"Ah! There was no truth in the tale?" Suppressed eagerness was in her -voice. - -"I will be frank with you. A certain measure of truth there was. M. de -Foli-Martin thought himself injured. It was not so." - -"And why should he think so, sir?" - -"Presumably because I paid court to madame, his wife." - -"Yes?" Cleone spoke gently, dangerously. "You paid court to madame. No -doubt she was very lovely?" - -"Very." Philip was nettled. - -"As lovely, perhaps, as Mademoiselle de Marcherand, of whom I have -heard, or as Mistress Ann Nutley yonder? Or as lovely as Jennifer?" - -Philip took a false step. - -"Cleone, surely you are not jealous of little Jenny?" he cried. - -She drew herself up. - -"Jealous? What right have I to be jealous? You are nothing to me, Mr. -Jettan! I confess that once I--liked you. You have changed since then. -You cannot deny that you have made love to a score of beautiful women -since you left home. I do not blame you for that. You are free to do -as you please. What I will not support is that you should come to me -with your proposal, having shown me during the time that you have -spent in England that I am no more to you than Ann Nutley, or Julie de -Marcherand. 'To the Pearl that Trembles in her Ear,' was it not? Very -pretty, sir. And now I intrigue you for the moment. I cannot consider -myself flattered, Mr. Jettan." - -Philip had grown pale under his paint. - -"Cleone, you wrong me! It is true that I have trifled harmlessly with -those ladies. It is the fashion--the fashion you bade me follow. There -has never been aught serious betwixt any woman and me. That I swear!" - -"You probably swore the same to M. de Foli-Martin?" - -"When I had given him the satisfaction he craved, yes." - -"I suppose he believed you?" - -"No." Philip bit his lip. - -"No? Then will you tell me, sir, how it is that you expect me to -believe what M. de Foli-Martin--closely concerned--would not believe?" - -Philip looked straight into her eyes. - -"I can only give you my word, Cleone." - -Still she fought on, wishing to be defeated. - -"So you have never trifled with any of these women, sir?" - -Philip was silent again. - -"You bring me"--Cleone's voice trembled--"a tarnished reputation. I've -no mind to it, sir. You have made love to a dozen other women. Perhaps -you have kissed them. And--and now you offer me--your kisses! I like -unspoilt wares, sir." - -Philip rose, very stiff and stern. - -"I am sorry that you consider yourself insulted by my offer, Cleone." - -Her hand half flew towards him and fell again. Couldn't he understand -that she wanted him to beat down her resistance? Did he care no more -than that? If only he would deny everything and master her! - -"I hasten to relieve you of my obnoxious presence. Your servant, -mademoiselle." Philip bowed. He turned on his heel and walked away, -leaving Cleone stricken. - -Her fan dropped unheeded to the ground. Philip had gone! He had not -understood that she wanted to be overruled, overcome. He had gone, and -he would never come back. In those few minutes he had been the Philip -she loved, not the flippant gallant of the past weeks. Tears came into -Cleone's eyes. Why, why had he been so provoking? And oh, why had she -let him go? She knew now beyond question that he was the only man she -could ever love, or had ever loved. Now he had left her, and would go -back to Paris. Nothing mattered, she did not care what became of her -once she had lost Philip. - -James Winton, never far away, came to her side and sat down. Cleone -greeted him mechanically and proceeded to follow out her own line of -dismal thought. Through a haze of misery she heard James' voice. It -sounded rather shy, and very anxious. She had not the faintest idea of -what he was saying, but she felt vaguely annoyed by his persistency. -Presently these words filtered through to her brain: - -"Say yes, Cleone! Say yes! Oh, say yes, Cleone!" - -How importunate he was! Cleone turned impatiently. - -"Oh, yes, yes! What is it?" - -As James had been blurting out a carefully-worded proposal of marriage, -he was not flattered by this answer. He rose, hurt to the bottom of his -youthful soul. - -"It is evident that you have not heard a word of what I said, Cleone!" - -"Oh, don't worry me, James! I've said yes. What is it? You are so -persistent, and I wish to be quiet!" - -James bowed. - -"I will leave you, madam. I offered you my hand and my heart." With -that he walked off, a picture of outraged dignity. - -Cleone broke into hysterical laughter. Up came Sir Deryk. - -"You seem vastly entertained, lady fair. May I share the pleasantry?" - -Cleone sprang up. - -"Take me away from this!" she begged. "I--I am nigh fainting from the -heat! I--oh, I must be quiet! The fiddling goes through and through my -head. I--oh, take me somewhere cool!" - -Sir Deryk was surprised, but he did not show it. - -"Why, of course, dearest! I know of a small withdrawing-room nearby. -Take my arm, it's stifling in here!" He led her across the room to -where a heavy curtain hung, shutting off a small, dimly-lighted -apartment. - -Meanwhile Philip had gone to Lady Malmerstoke's side. He sat down, -frowning gloomily. - -Her ladyship eyed him speculatively. - -"Well?" she demanded. - -Philip laughed bitterly. - -"Oh, I have been rebuffed! Do I conceal it so admirably?" - -"No, you do not," said her ladyship. "You must have played your cards -monstrously badly. Trust a man." - -"Oh, no! Tis merely that your niece does not love me." - -"Fiddle! Don't tell me that. D'you think I'm a fool, Philip?" - -"She objects, madam, to my--tarnished reputation. She was quite final." - -"You thought she was quite final. Now, don't be stately, child! What -happened?" - -"I asked her to marry me--and she flung my wretched Paris _affaires_ in -my face." - -"Of course, you denied everything?" - -"No, I did not. How could I? There was a certain measure of tr--" - -Lady Malmerstoke leaned back disgustedly. - -"God preserve me from young men! You admitted it?" - -"No--that is, I was frank with her." - -"Great heavens, Philip! Frank with a woman? God help you, then! And -what next? Did you tell Cleone not to be a fool? Did you insist that -she should listen to you?" - -"How could I? She--" - -"You didn't. You walked off when you should have mastered her. I'll -wager my best necklet she was waiting for you to assert yourself. And -now she's probably miserable. Serve her right, and you too." - -"But, Lady Malmerstoke--" - -"Not but what I don't sympathise with the child," continued her -ladyship inexorably. "Of course, she is a fool, but so are all girls. -A woman of my age don't inquire too closely into a man's past--we've -learned wisdom. Cleone knows that you have trifled with a dozen other -women. Bless you, she don't think the worse of you for that!" - -"She does! She said--" - -"For goodness' sake, don't try to tell me what she said, Philip! What's -that to do with it?" - -"But you don't understand! Cleone said--" - -"So she may have. That does not mean that she meant it, does it?" asked -her ladyship in great scorn. - -"_Mais_--" - -"Don't start talking French at me, child, for I can't bear it! You -should know by now that no woman means what she says when it's to a -man." - -"Oh, stop, stop! Lady Malmerstoke, you don't understand! Cleone does -think the worse of me for those intrigues! She is very angry!" - -"Of course she is. What do you expect?" - -Philip clasped his head. - -"_Mais, voyons!_ Just now you said that she does _not_ think the worse -of me for it!" - -"Who said she did? Can't one think two things at the same time?" - -"But surely not two such--such contradictory things! I have never done -so in my life!" - -"You! You're only a man! You've not our gifts! I can tell you!" -My lady spread out her fan. "Why, a woman can think of a hundred -different things at once, all of them contradictory!" She nodded at him -complacently. - -"It's ridiculous! It's impossible! Are women's brains so--so -incoherent?" - -"Most of 'em," answered her ladyship. "They jump, you see." - -"Jump?" Philip was thoroughly bewildered. - -"Jump. From one thing to another. You'll arrive at a new thought by -degrees, and you'll know how you got there. Women don't think like -that. Cleone could not tell you why she thinks well and ill of you at -once, but she does." - -"But surely if she reasons with herself she'll see how absurd--" - -"If she what?" - -"Reasons. I mean--" - -"You're mad," said Lady Malmerstoke with conviction. "Women don't -reason. That's a man's part. Why, do you suppose that if Cleone -thought as you think, and had a brain like a man's, you'd be in -love with her? Of course you'd not. You'd not be able to feel your -superiority over her. Don't tell me!" - -"I don't feel--" - -Her ladyship chuckled. - -"Oh, don't you, Philip? You think that Clo is reasonable-minded, and -able to care for herself, needing no master?" - -"I--no, I don't!" - -"That's what I say. Goodness me, how blind you are! If you didn't -consider that you had to care for Cleone and guard her from everyone -else and herself, you wouldn't love her. Now don't be foolish!" - -Philip laughed ruefully. - -"You're a fount of wisdom, Lady Sally!" - -"Well, I should be at my age. I've had experience, you see, and I never -was a fool." - -"Then--tell me what I am to do?" - -Lady Malmerstoke wagged an impressive finger at him. - -"Take that girl and shake her. Tell her you'll not be flouted. Tell her -she's a little fool, and kiss her. And if she protests, go on kissing -her. Dear me, what things I do say!" - -"Yes, but, dear Lady Sally, how am I to kiss her when she's as cold as -ice--and--and so unapproachable?" - -"And why is she cold?" said her ladyship. "Tell me that!" - -"Because she--thinks me naught but an elegant trifler!" - -"Not a bit of it. Because you treat her gently and politely, and let -her flout you. God bless my soul, women don't want gentle politeness! -Not Cleone, at all events! They like a man to be brutal!" - -"Brutal?" - -"Well, not exactly. They like to feel he'll stand no airs and graces. -Oh, they want gentleness, never fear! But they want to feel helpless. -They want mastering, most of 'em. When you kiss the tips of Clo's -fingers, and treat her as though you thought she was made o' porcelain, -she thinks you're no man, and don't care for her." - -"She cannot! She--" - -"She don't know it, of course, but it's true. Be advised by me, Philip, -and insist on having your way with her. Don't be finicky!" - -"It's very well, but she doesn't love me!" - -"Oh, drat the man!" said her ladyship. "You fatigue me! Go your own -road, but don't blame me when everything goes awry. If you have made -Clo miserable she'll do something mad. And now I've warned you. Oh, -here is James, looking like a sulky bear! James, my good boy, I've left -my handkerchief in another room. Will you fetch it for me, please? Over -there, behind the curtain. Yes, shocking, isn't it? But 'twas only old -Fotheringham, so you can tell your uncle, Philip." - -He rose and laughed down at her. - -"And will he master you, my lady?" - -"Not he," said Lady Malmerstoke placidly. "I'm past the age of wanting -that nonsense. Not that I ever wanted it, but I was always unusual. Be -off with you!" - -Philip took James by the arm. - -"We are summarily dismissed! Come, Jamie, we'll find her handkerchief, -and she'll smile again." - -In the withdrawing-room Cleone was dicing with Sir Deryk. A very -unmaidenly proceeding. She had just lost the rose at her breast to -Brenderby, and he was trying to undo the pin that held it in place. -Failing in that, he grasped the stem firmly, and broke off the bloom. -But with the rose he had clutched a thin blue riband from which hung a -locket. It snapped, and the trinket rolled on to the floor. - -Cleone was already overwrought. She sprang up. - -"Oh, my locket!" And searched wildly on the floor. - -Surprised at her earnestness, Brenderby went down on his knees, and -presently retrieved the locket just as Cleone had seen it. He rose, -and was about to present it to her when she clasped agitated hands and -demanded that it should be given her at once! This aroused Sir Deryk's -curiosity. He withheld it. - -"Why so anxious, Cleone? What secret does it hide?" - -"Naught! Oh, give it me, give it me!" - -Sir Deryk held fast to the trophy. - -"Not so fast, Cleone! I'll swear there's some mystery here! I've a mind -to peep inside!" - -"I forbid you!" said Cleone. "Sir Deryk--" She controlled herself. -"Please give it me!" - -"And so I will, fairest, but first I must see what is inside!" - -"Oh, no, no! There's naught! I could not bear you to look! Besides, -it's--it's empty. I--oh, give it me!" She stamped angrily. - -Brenderby's eyes were alight with impish laughter. - -"I'll make a bargain, sweetest! You shall play me for it." He picked -up the dice-box. "If you beat my throw, I will give you the locket -unopened. If you lose you shall pay a price for it." - -"I don't understand! What do you mean?" - -"You shall kiss me for it. One hard-earned kiss. Come, you must admit -my terms are generous!" - -"I won't! How dare you, sir! And it is _my_ locket! You have no right -to it!" - -"What I find I keep! Come! The odds are equal, and in neither case do I -open the locket." - -"I--I thought you a gentleman!" - -"So I am, Clo. Were I not--I'd take the price and then the locket. -There's no one to see, and no one need know. Cleone--you lovely -creature!" - -Cleone wrung her hands. - -"I should die of shame! Oh, Sir Deryk, please be kind!" - -"Why should I be kind when you are not? You'll none of my terms? Very -well!" He made as if to open the locket. - -"No, no, no!" almost shrieked Cleone. "I'll do anything, anything! Only -don't open it!" - -"You'll play me?" - -Cleone drew a deep breath. - -"Yes. I will. And I'll never, never, never speak to you again!" - -He laughed. - -"Oh, I trust you'll change your mind! Now!" He cast the dice. "Aha! Can -you beat that?" - -Cleone took the box in a firm clasp, and shook it long and violently. -Her cheeks were burning, her eyes tight shut. She threw the dice. -Brenderby bent over the table. - -"Alack!" - -Her eyes flew open. - -"I've won? Oh, I have won!" - -"No. I was grieving for you, fairest, not for myself. You have lost." - -Tears glistened on the end of her long lashes. - -"Sir Deryk--p-please be gen-generous now! I don't want to--kiss you!" - -"What! You cry off? Shame, Cleone!" he teased. - -"You are monstrous unk-kind! It's my locket, and I d-don't want to kiss -you! I don't, I don't! I hate you!" - -"That adds spice, my dear. Must I take the price?" - -She choked down a sob. - -"Very well. Kiss me." She stood where she was, face upturned, with the -resignation of a martyr. - -He laid his hands on her shoulders, looking down at her. - -"By God, Cleone, you're damnably beautiful!" he said thickly. "You've -played with fire to-night--but I won't burn you too much!" He bent his -head till his lips met hers. - -At that inauspicious moment James and Philip walked into the room. - -"No, it was here she said, Philip. I re--" - -With a cry of horror Cleone sprang away from Sir Deryk, her cheeks -flaming. Her wide eyes went from James' face of frozen astonishment to -Philip's pale, furious countenance. - -Philip took a half-step forward, his hand wrenching at his sword-hilt. -Then he checked and slammed the sword back into the scabbard. Cleone -had not struggled in Brenderby's embrace. What could he do? He had -always thought her in love with the fellow. And on the top of his own -proposal.... He swept a magnificent bow. - -"_Mille pardons, mademoiselle!_ It seems that I intrude." - -Cleone winced at the biting sarcasm in his voice. She tried to speak, -and failed. What could she say? - -James came out of his stupor. He strode forward. - -"What in thunder--" - -"I don't kn-know!" quavered Cleone. "Oh--oh, heaven!" - -Quickly Brenderby stepped to her side. He took her hand in his, and -gave it a reassuring squeeze. - -"Gentlemen, you have the honour of addressing my affianced wife," he -said haughtily. - -Philip's hand was on the curtain. It clenched slowly. He stood very -still, his eyes on Cleone's face. - -"Oh!" cried Cleone. "Oh, I--" She stopped helplessly. Heavens, what a -position she was in! If she denied that she was betrothed to Brenderby, -what could Philip think? What must he think? He had seen her in Sir -Deryk's arms; the only excuse was a betrothal. And she had accused -Philip of loose behaviour! Whatever happened, he must not think her a -light woman! But, oh! how could she say she was betrothed to another -when she desired nothing better than to fly to him for protection? She -compromised. - -"I--oh, I think I am about--to faint!" she said. - -Sir Deryk drew her hand through his arm. - -"No, no, my love! Tell these gentlemen that it is as I say." - -Cleone looked at Philip. Was he sneering? She couldn't bear it. - -"Yes," she said. "It is." - -Philip seemed to stiffen. He bowed again. - -"Permit me to offer my felicitations," he said, but his voice was not -quite steady. - -James hurried forward, furious. - -"Your pardon, sir! I beg leave to contradict that statement!" - -They all stared at him in amazement. Philip eyed him through his -quizzing-glass. - -"I--beg--your--pardon?" drawled Brenderby. - -"I am betrothed to her myself!" shouted James. - -Cleone's hands flew to her cheeks. - -"Oh!" she fluttered. "Oh--oh, I _am_ going to faint!" - -Brenderby's eyes twinkled. - -"Bear up a little longer, dear! Of course, I know there is no truth in -what Mr. Winton says!" - -"It is true!" James danced in his fury. "Cleone promised to wed me, -only a little while back! You can't deny it, Clo! You did!" - -"I did not!" - -"You did! You said yes! You know you did!" - -Cleone leaned on the nearest thing to her for support. It chanced to be -Sir Deryk, but she was past caring. - -"James, you know I--never meant it!" - -Suddenly Philip's lips twitched. Brenderby was bubbling over with -ill-suppressed merriment. - -"My dear, this is most serious! Did you, indeed, accept Mr. Winton's -proposal?" - -"Yes, but he knows I did not mean it! I--" - -"Cleone, do you tell me you accepted him and--" - -"Yes, she did! And I hold her to her promise!" - -Cleone's knees threatened to give way. - -"James, I can't marry you! I won't marry you!" - -"I hold you to your promise!" repeated James, almost beside himself. - -"And I." Sir Deryk passed his arm round Cleone's waist. "I hold Cleone -to the promise she has given me!" - -Philip interposed. - -"Probably the lady would be glad of a chair," he suggested evenly. -"James, Brenderby--let your future wife sit down!" - -Sir Deryk's shoulders shook. He led Cleone to the couch, and she sank -on to it, hiding her face. - -Philip swung the curtain aside. - -"Permit me to withdraw. Decidedly I am _de trop_. Mademoiselle, -messieurs!" He went out, and the curtain fell back into place. - -"Oh, oh, oh!" moaned Cleone. - -James bent over her. - -"Come, Clo! Let me take you back to your aunt!" - -Brenderby stepped to Cleone's other side. - -"Cleone needs no other escort than that of her affianced husband, sir!" - -"And that is I!" - -"On the contrary, it is I! Cleone, sweet, come!" - -Cleone sprang up. - -"It's neither of you! Don't--touch me! Oh, that I should be so -humiliated! I will not marry you, James! You know that I never heard -what you said!" - -James set his chin stubbornly. - -"I'll not release you from your promise," he said. - -"And nor will I." Sir Deryk was enjoying himself. - -"You must release me, James!" cried Cleone. "I--I am going to wed--Sir -Deryk!" She dissolved into tears. "Oh, what shall I do? What shall I -do? How--how dreadful it is! Let me go! I hate you both!" She fled from -them and was at her aunt's side before either had time to follow her. - -"Good gracious, child, what's amiss?" exclaimed Lady Malmerstoke. -"You're as white as my wig!" - -"Take me home!" begged Cleone. "I am b-betrothed to Sir Deryk and -James! Oh, for heaven's sake, take me home!" - - - - - Seventeen - - Mistress Cleone at Her Wits' End - - -Sir Maurice and his brother were sitting at breakfast next morning when -Philip burst in on them. Tom jumped up and swore. - -"Damn you, Philip! At this hour!" - -Philip paid not the slightest heed to him. He grasped his father by the -shoulder. - -"Father, you must to Lady Malmerstoke's house at once!" - -Sir Maurice ate another mouthful of beef. - -"Sit down, my son, and be calm. What's to do?" - -"God alone knows!" cried Philip. He sank into a chair and rejected his -uncle's offer of breakfast. "Breakfast? What have I to do with food -when I'm nigh demented?" - -"Drink's the thing," agreed Tom placidly. He pushed a tankard of ale -towards his nephew. "What ails you, lad?" - -"Cleone's betrothed to Brenderby," announced Philip wretchedly. - -"No!" Tom was dumbfounded. - -"And to Winton." Philip sought to drown his troubles in the tankard. - -"What!" Sir Maurice dropped his knife. "Betrothed to Brenderby _and_ -Winton? You're raving!" - -"Would to God I were!" Philip emerged from the tankard, and wiped his -lips with his fathers napkin. "I asked her to marry me at the ball -last night. She refused; I won't tell you her exact words. Half an -hour later I found her kissing _ce scélérat_ Brenderby in a secluded -corner!" He laughed savagely. - -"You mean that Brenderby kissed her?" suggested Tom. - -"No, I do not! _Voyons_, would he be alive now had he dared embrace -Cleone against her will? She submitted--she wished it!" - -"I'll not believe that!" exclaimed Sir Maurice. - -"You must believe it. She is betrothed to him. She said it herself. -James was with me. He interposed, saying that she was already promised -to him." - -Tom gave a chuckle. - -"Faith, the child is rich in--" He caught Philips eye and subsided. -"Oh, ay, ay! Go on." - -"I know no more. I deemed it time for me to withdraw." - -"The proper thing to have done," said Tom solemnly, "was to have struck -an attitude and said, 'Not so! The girl is mine!'" - -"What right had I? I was not amongst the favoured ones." - -"Don't sneer, Philip," interposed Sir Maurice. "There must be something -behind all this." - -Philip turned to him. - -"That's what I hope and trust! You must go at once to Lady -Malmerstoke's!" His head sank into his hands and he gave way to a gust -of laughter. "Oh, Gad! neither would give way an inch. Both held Clo to -her promise!" - -"Ye seem monstrous light-hearted about it," said his uncle. - -Philip sprang up. - -"Because I thought that--for one moment--she looked at me for help!" - -"Which you declined to give?" asked Sir Maurice dryly. - -"_Mon cher père_, I have my own game to play. Now go to Lady -Malmerstoke's, I implore you!" - -Sir Maurice rose. - -"I'll go at once. What madness can have seized Cleone?" - -Philip almost pushed him out of the room. - -"That is what I want to know. Quickly, Father!" - -The little black page swung open the door of my lady's boudoir. - -"Sah Maurice Jettan!" - -"The very man I wish to see!" exclaimed Lady Malmerstoke. "Maurry, -never were you more opportune!" - -Sir Maurice kissed her hand with punctilious politeness. He then smiled -at Cleone, who stood by the table, pale and wan-looking. - -"I hope I see you well, Cleone?" - -"Very well, thank you, sir," said Cleone dully. - -Lady Malmerstoke sat down. - -"Clo has disgraced me," she said comfortably. "Is it not exciting?" - -Cleone turned her head away. Sir Maurice saw her lips tremble. - -"Please, Aunt--please don't--don't--I shall wed--Sir Deryk." - -"And what's to happen to t'other? You can't wed two men, my dear. I'm -not sure that I shall consent to your marrying either." - -"Sir Deryk--has my word." - -"But so has James." - -"What's this?" Sir Maurice spoke with well-feigned astonishment. -"Cleone, you are not betrothed, surely?" - -"To two men," nodded her aunt. "I have never been so amused in my life. -I always considered myself to be flighty, but I'll swear I never was -engaged to two men at one and the same time!" - -Cleone sat down, staring out of the window and biting her lips. - -"What!" cried Sir Maurice in liveliest horror. "Engaged to two men? -Cleone!" - -The golden head was bowed. A great sob shook Cleone. - -"But--good heavens, my dear! This is dreadful! How could such a thing -have come to pass?" - -"Of course it's dreadful," said her ladyship. "Think of the scandal -when it is known. And that'll be soon, I'll wager. Brenderby will -never keep such a piece of spice to himself." As she spoke, one of her -eyelids flickered. Sir Maurice smiled, unseen by Cleone. - -"You--forget, Aunt. I am going to--wed--Sir Deryk." A shudder ran -through her at the thought. - -"But I don't understand! Tell me how it happened, Cleone!" - -"Yes, tell him, Clo. Mayhap he can help you." - -"No one can help me," said Cleone miserably. "I must bear the pain of -my own folly. I--oh, I have been so wicked!" - -"Now, Cleone? Why? What happened?" - -"I may as well tell you. It will be all over town by to-night--everyone -will know me for a flirtatious, flighty woman. I--" - -"You won't have a shred of reputation left," said her aunt maliciously. - -Cleone started. - -"Rep--Oh, and I said--!" - -"Said what, my love?" - -"Naught. I--I--oh, Sir Maurice, Sir Maurice, I am so unhappy!" Cleone -burst into tears. - -Sir Maurice patted one heaving shoulder. - -"There, there, Cleone! Tell me all about it!" - -"It--it was at the ball last n-night. I--I--no, first James -proposed--to me, and I said yes, but I didn't mean it!" - -"You said yes, but you didn't mean it?" - -"I didn't hear what he said--I--I said yes because he worried so! -And--and he knew I didn't mean it, for he walked away. Then I--I--went -with Sir Deryk to a room apart--" - -"Cle-one!" - -"Oh, I know, I know! It was terrible of me, but I was so upset--I -hardly cared what I did!" - -"But why were you upset? Because James had proposed?" - -"No--I--I--something--else--I can't tell you! Anyway--Sir Deryk took -me to this room, and--and taught me to--to dice--yes, I know it was -horrid! And--and I lost my rose to him, and when he--was taking it, he -broke the string of my locket, and he wouldn't give it me, but said he -must see what was inside, and I _couldn't_ let him! I _couldn't_!" - -"What was inside?" asked Sir Maurice. - -"For heaven's sake, don't ask her that!" begged Lady Malmerstoke. "It -sets her off into floods of tears!" - -"Aunt, _please_! And--and so I played him--for it--and I lost and had -to--to kiss him--for it. Don't, don't look at me! And then--and then -_he_ came--with James--and saw! What he must _think_ of me! And I said -that he--Oh, he must--" - -"Who is 'he'?" asked Sir Maurice innocently. He watched a tell-tale -blush steal up under Cleone's fingers. - -"Mr.--Mr. Jettan--I--he--saw me kiss--Sir Deryk! Then--then--I think, -to spare me--Sir Deryk said I was his betrothed wife. I could not -say I was not, could I? It was too dreadful! And Phil--Mr. Jettan -congratulated us! But James suddenly said he was going to marry me -because I had said yes to him--by mistake! Of course I said I was not, -but he wouldn't release me from my word, and nor would Sir Deryk! -Then--then he--Ph--I mean Mr. Jettan--just bowed and went away, but I -could see what he--thought of--of me. Oh, what shall I do? Neither will -let me go! I am betrothed to two gentlemen, and--oh, _what_ shall I do?" - -Sir Maurice took a pinch of snuff. A smile hovered about his mouth. He -shut the box with a snap. - -"It seems, my dear, that the situation calls for a third gentleman," he -said, and picked up his hat. - -Cleone sprang to her feet. - -"Oh--oh, what are you going to do?" she cried. - -Sir Maurice walked to the door. - -"It needs a masterful hand to extricate you from your delicate -position," he said. "I go in search of such a hand." - -Cleone ran to him, clasping his arm. - -"No, no, no! Oh, for heaven's sake, Sir Maurice, stop!" - -He laid a hand over her clutching fingers. - -"My dear, do you want a scandal?" - -"No, oh no! But I must persuade James!" - -"And do you want to marry this Brenderby?" - -"I--am going to marry him." - -"Cleone, answer me! Do you want to marry him?" - -"I don't want to marry anyone! I wish I were dead!" - -"Well, child, you are not dead. I refuse to see you fall into -Brenderby's clutches, and I refuse to countenance the scandal that -would arise if you rejected him. I am too old to serve you, but I know -of one who is not." - -"Sir Maurice, I implore you, do not speak to him! You don't understand! -You--Oh, stop, stop!" - -Sir Maurice had disengaged himself. He opened the door. - -"You need not fear that the third gentleman will cause you any -annoyance, my dear. I can vouch for his discretion." - -Cleone tried to hold him back. - -"Sir Maurice, you don't understand! You must not ask Ph--your son -to--to--help me! I--I didn't tell you all! I--Oh, come back!" - -The door closed behind Sir Maurice. - -"A very prompt, wise man," commented Lady Malmerstoke. "Now I am to be -baulked of the scandal. Hey-dey!" - -Cleone paced to and fro. - -"I can't face him! I can't, I can't! What must he _think_ of me? What -must he think? Aunt, you don't know all!" - -"Oh, yes, I do," retorted her ladyship. - -"No, no, you do not! Philip asked me to marry him--and--I refused! -I--I--told him--I would not marry a man with a tarnished reputation! -I--I said that--and worse! I accused him of trifling and--and--oh, it's -too awful! That he should have been the one to see! How he must scorn -me. Oh, Aunt, Aunt, can't you say something?" - -"Ay, one thing. That you will have to be very humble to Master Philip. -At least, he was never betrothed twice in one night." - -Cleone collapsed on to the couch. - -"I'll not see him! I--oh, I must go home at once! I must, I must! -Everything is all my fault! I ought never to have--sent him away! And -now--and now he despises me!" - -"Who says so?" - -"I--how could he do else? Don't--don't you realise how dreadful I have -been? And--and his face--when--when he--heard everything! He'll never -never believe--the truth!" - -"What matters it?" asked my lady carelessly. "Since you do not love -him--" - -"Oh, I do, I do, I do!" wept Cleone. - - * * * * * - -François admitted Sir Maurice. His round face was perturbed. It cleared -somewhat at the sight of Sir Maurice. - -"_Ah, m'sieur, entrez donc!_ M'sieur Philippe he is like one mad!--He -rage, he go up and down the room like a caged beast! It is a woman, -without doubt it is a woman! I have known it _depuis longtemps_! -Something terrible has happened! M'sieur is _hors de lui-même_!" - -Sir Maurice laughed. - -"Poor François! I go to reassure m'sieur." - -"Ah, if m'sieur can do that!" - -"I can--most effectively. Where is he?" - -François pointed to the library door. - - * * * * * - -Philip literally pounced on his father. - -"Well? You have seen her? Is she in love with Brenderby? Is she to wed -him? What did she tell you?" - -Sir Maurice pushed him away. - -"You are the second distracted lover who has clutched me to-day. Have -done." - -Philip danced with impatience. - -"But speak, Father! Speak!" - -Sir Maurice sat down leisurely and crossed his legs. - -"At the present moment Cleone is betrothed. Very much so," he added, -chuckling. "I am about to put the whole matter into your hands." - -"My hands? She wants my help?" - -"Not at all. She is insistent that you shall not be appealed to. In -fact, she was almost frantic when I suggested it." - -"Then does she not want to marry Brenderby?" - -"Certainly not. But she will do if you fail to intervene." - -Philip flung out his hands. - -"But tell me, sir! What happened last night?" - -"Sit down and be quiet," said Sir Maurice severely. "I am on the point -of telling you." - -Philip obeyed meekly. - -"And don't interrupt." Sir Maurice proceeded to relate all that he -had heard from Cleone.... "And she was so upset that she went with -Brenderby, not caring what happened. That is the whole story," he ended. - -"Upset? But--was she upset--because I had offered and been rejected?" - -"Presumably. Now she is so hopelessly compromised that she daren't face -you." - -Philip sank his head into his hands and gave way to a long peal of -laughter. - -"_Sacré nom de Dieu_, the tables are turned, indeed. Oh, Clo, Clo, you -wicked little hussy! And what was in that locket?" - -"That you will have to ask her yourself," answered Sir Maurice. - -Philip jumped up. - -"And I shall. _Mordieu_, never did I dream of such a solution to my -difficulties!" - -"Perhaps she still will not have you, Philip," warned Sir Maurice. - -Philip flung back his head. - -"Thunder of God, she will have me now if I have to force her to the -altar! _Ciel_, you have taken a load off my mind, sir! I thought she -cared for Brenderby! She smiled on him so consistently. And now for _ce -cher_ Brenderby! I am going to enjoy myself." - -"Remember, Philip! No breath of scandal!" - -"Am I so clumsy? Not a whisper shall there be! François, François! My -hat, my cloak, my boots, and my SWORD!" - - - - - Eighteen - - Philip Takes Charge of the Situation - - -Sir Deryk's valet came to him, bowing. - -"There is a gentleman below who desires speech with you, sir." - -"Oh? Who is he?" - -"Mr. Philip Jettan, sir." - -Sir Deryk raised his eyebrows. - -"Jettan? What can he want with me? Ay, I'll come." He rose and went -languidly downstairs. "This is an unexpected honour, Jettan! Come in!" -He led Philip into a large room. "Is it a mere friendly visit?" - -"Anything but that," said Philip. "I have come to tell you that you -will not be able to wed Mistress Cleone Charteris." - -"Oh?" Brenderby laughed. "Why do you say that?" - -"Because," Philip smiled a little, "I am going to wed her myself." - -"You? Oh, Gad, you make the third!" - -"And there is, as you know, luck in odd numbers. Are you satisfied?" - -"Satisfied? Damme, no! The girl's lovely! I've a mind to her." - -"Even though I tell you that she desires to be released?" - -"Even though she told it me herself!" - -"I trust you will allow me to persuade you?" Philip patted his -sword-hilt lovingly. - -A light sprang to Brenderby's eyes. - -"Is it a fight you're wanting? By Gad, no man has ever had need to -challenge me twice! Here? Now? Help me push the table back!" - -"One moment! You love a hazard, I think? I fight you for the right to -wed Mistress Cleone. If I win you relinquish all claim upon her, and -you swear never to breathe a word of what passed last night. If you -win--oh, if you win, you do as you please!" - -"Ay, aught you will! I've been pining for a fight for many a long day. -You're a man after my heart, stap me if you're not! Here, wait while I -fetch my sword!" He hurried out of the room, returning in a very short -time with a rapier. "I've told my man that you have come to fence with -me. But we'll lock the door in case of accidents. How does my sword -measure with yours?" - -Philip compared them. - -"Very well." His eyes danced suddenly. "_Dieu!_ I never thought to -fight so strange a duel!" He pulled off his boots. "We'll fight in -wigs, yes? One is so displeasing without a hair to one's head." - -"A dozen, if you like!" Brenderby struggled out of his coat and vest. -"You know, you are shorter than I am. We're not fair matched." - -Philip laughed, tucking up his ruffles. - -"No matter. You see, I must win!" - -"Why?" Brenderby made an imaginary pass in the air. - -"So much depends on it," explained Philip. "Is the light fair to both?" - -"Fair enough," said Brenderby. - -"You are ready, then? _Eh bien!_" - -The blades met and hissed together. - -Opening in quarte, Brenderby seemed at first to be the better of the -two. Philip stayed on the defensive, parrying deftly and allowing -Brenderby to expend his energies. Once Brenderby's blade flashed out -and all but pinked Philip, but he managed to recover his opposition -in time. His eyes opened wider; he became more cautious. Suddenly he -descried an opening and lunged forward. There was a moment's scuffle, -and Brenderby put the murderous point aside. Then Philip seemed to -quicken. When Brenderby began to pant, Philip changed his tactics, and -gave back thrust for thrust. His wrist was like flexible steel; his -footwork was superb; the whole style of his fencing was different from -that of Brenderby. - -All at once Brenderby saw an opening. He thrust in quinte, steel -scraped against steel, and Philip's point flashed into his right arm -above the elbow. - -Brenderby staggered back, clutched at his arm, and tried to raise his -sword again. But Philip was at his side, supporting him. - -"It's only a flesh wound--painful now--_bien sûr_. It will--heal -quickly. I do not--mistake," he gasped. - -"Damme--I'm not done for--yet!" - -"But yes! I fight--no more. You cannot--keep your blade--steady--now! -Sit down!" He lowered Brenderby into a chair, and whisked out his -handkerchief. He bound up Sir Deryk's wound and fetched him a glass of -wine from a decanter on the sideboard. - -"Thanks!" Sir Deryk gulped it down. "But where are my manners? Pour -some for yourself, Jettan! Gad, but you pinked me neatly!" He seemed to -slip back into his habitual drawl. "As pretty a piece of sword-play as -I wish to see. But you fence French-fashion." - -Philip drank some wine. - -"Yes. It was at Paris that I learned. With Guillaume Corvoisier." - -"No!" Brenderby heaved himself up. "Corvoisier, forsooth! No wonder -you're so quick!" - -Philip smiled and bowed. - -"You frightened me more than once, sir." - -"Faith, it wasn't apparent then! You were so intent on winning?" - -"It means so much, you see," said Philip simply. "My whole life's -happiness." - -"What! You really intend to wed Cleone?" - -Again Philip bowed. - -"I have always intended to wed her." - -"You?" Brenderby stared. "I never knew that! What of that young sprig -Winton?" - -"Oh, I think I can persuade James!" - -"Like this?" Brenderby glanced down at his arm. - -"No, not like that. Tell me, sir, did you intend to wed Mademoiselle?" - -"Heaven forbid! I've no mind to tie myself up yet awhile. Your entrance -last night forced me to say what I did to spare the lady's blushes. I'd -no notion of continuing the comedy, until young Winton thrust in with -his prior claim. Gad, but 'twas amusing! Did you not find it so?" - -"I? No. But I was closely concerned in the affair, you see. I may take -it that you will say naught of last night's work?" - -"Of course not. 'Twas a mad jest, but I'd not let it go so far as to -damage a lady's reputation. And you may tell Mistress Cleone that I -apologise--for what happened before. She's too damnably beautiful." - -Philip worked himself into his coat. - -"'Damnably' is not the word I should employ, but _n'importe_." He sat -down and started to pull on his boots. "I have enjoyed myself. I said I -should." - -"Tare an' 'ouns, so have I! It's an age since I've had a sword in my -hand. I am indebted to you, sir." - -"Yes, you are out of practice. I thank the kind fates for that!" - -"Ay, I'd have kept you at it longer, but I don't know that the issue -would have been different. You must go?" - -Philip picked up his hat. - -"I must. I have to thank you for--" - -"Oh, stuff! I'd no notion of holding Cleone to her promise, but I could -not resist the offer of a fight. I wish you could see how monstrous -amusing it was, though!" - -Philip laughed. - -"Had it been anyone but Cleone I might have been able to appreciate the -humour of the situation! I trust the wound will heal quickly." - -"Oh, that's naught! A mere prick, but I was winded. Fare ye well, -Jettan. My felicitations! You felicitated me last night, did you not?" -He laughed. - -"With black murder in my heart!" nodded Philip. "I do not say good bye, -but _au revoir_!" - -"Here's my hand on it then--my left hand, alack!" - -Philip grasped it. Brenderby accompanied him to the front door and -waved to him as he ran down the steps. - -"_Bonne chance_, as you'd say yourself! _Au 'voir!_" - -Philip waved back at him and turned to hail a passing chair. He -instructed the bearers to carry him to Jermyn Street. - -It seemed that the luck was indeed with him, for he arrived just as -James was descending the steps of his house. Philip sprang out, paid -the chairmen, and took Winton's arm. - -"My friend, a word with you!" - -"Yes?" said James. "You seem excited, Philip." - -"It's what I am, then. I've come to speak to you of Cleone." - -James stiffened. - -"I'll not give her up to that fellow Brenderby!" he said fiercely. -"It's more than flesh and blood can bear." - -"Assuredly. But will you give her up to me?" - -James turned to stare at him. - -"You? But she is to wed Brenderby!" - -"Ah, but no! that is at an end. Brenderby releases her. He is not so -bad a man as you think. _En effet_, I like him." - -"I loathe the sight of him, drawling fop!" - -"To-day I have seen him in another light. But that is not what I have -to say. Cleone does not wish to marry you, _mon enfant_, and it is -churlish to persist." - -"I know she'll never marry me," answered James gloomily. "I only held -her to her word because I thought she'd have Brenderby if I did not." - -"I understand. You'll release her--for me?" - -"I suppose so. Why did you say naught last night?" - -"There were reasons. They no longer exist. Come, Jamie, don't look so -glum! You are young yet." - -"It's easy to say that. Oh, I knew I never had a chance with her! I -congratulate you, Philip." - -Philip pressed his arm. - -"My thanks. You're very generous! And now I must fly!" - -"Where? May I accompany you?" - -"Again many thanks, but no! I have an engagement. _Au revoir, mon -cher!_" - - - - - Nineteen - - Philip Justifies His Chin - - -Once more Lady Malmerstoke's page went up to the boudoir. - -"Mistah Philip Jettan is below, m'lady!" - -Up started Cleone. - -"I will not see him! Aunt Sarah, I beg you will go to him! Please spare -me this--humiliation!" - -Lady Malmerstoke waved her aside. - -"Admit him, Sambo. Yes, here. Cleone, control yourself!" - -"I can't see him! I can't! I can't! How _can_ I face him?" - -"Turn your back, then," said her unsympathetic aunt. "I wonder what he -has done?" - -"D-do you think he--could have--arranged everything?" asked Cleone, -with a gleam of hope. - -"From what I have seen of him, I should say yes. A masterful young man, -my dear. Else why that chin?" She moved to the door. Philip came in, -immaculate as ever. "Ah, Philip!" - -Philip shot a look past her. Cleone had fled to the window. He bent and -kissed Lady Malmerstoke's hand. - -"_Bonjour, madame!_" He held open the door and bowed. - -Her ladyship laughed. - -"What! Turning me from my own boudoir?" - -"If you please, madame." - -"Aunt--Sarah!" The whisper came from the window. - -Philip smiled faintly. - -"Madame...." - -"Oh, that chin!" said her ladyship, and patted it. She went out and -Philip closed the door behind her. - -Cleone's fingers clasped one another desperately. Her heart seemed to -have jumped into her throat. It almost choked her. She dared not look -round. She heard the rustle of Philip's coat-skirts. Never, never had -she felt so ashamed, or so frightened. - -"Your devoted servant, mademoiselle!" - -Cleone could not speak. She stood where she was, trembling -uncontrollably. - -"I have the honour of informing you, mademoiselle, that you are -released from your engagements." - -Was there a note of laughter in the prim voice? - -"I--thank you--sir," whispered Cleone. Her teeth clenched in an effort -to keep back the tears. She was blinded by them, and her bosom was -heaving. - -There was a slight pause. Why did he not go? Did he wish to see her -still more humiliated? - -"I have also to offer, on Sir Deryk's behalf, his apologies for the -happenings of last night, mademoiselle." - -"Th--thank--you, sir." - -Again the nerve-killing silence. If only he would go before she broke -down! - -"Cleone...." said Philip gently. - -The tears were running down her cheeks, but she kept her head turned -away. - -"Please--go!" she begged huskily. - -He was coming across the room towards her.... Cleone gripped her hands. - -"Cleone ... dearest!" - -A heartbroken sob betrayed her. Philip took her in his arms. - -"My sweetheart! Crying? Oh no, no! There is naught now to distress -you." - -The feel of his arms about her was sheer bliss; their strength was like -a haven of refuge. Yet Cleone tried to thrust him away. - -"What--must you--think of me!" she sobbed. - -He drew her closer, till her head rested against his shoulder. - -"Why, that you are a dear, foolish, naughty little Cleone. _Chérie_, -don't cry. It is only your Philip--your own Philip, who has always -loved you, and only you. Look up, my darling, look up!" - -Cleone gave way to the insistence of his arms. - -"Oh, Philip--forgive me!" she wept. "I have--been mad!" She raised her -head and Philips arms tightened still more. He bent over her and kissed -her parted lips almost fiercely. - - * * * * * - -Later, seated beside him on the couch, her head on his shoulder, and -his arm about her, Cleone gave a great sigh. - -"But why--why did you treat me so--hatefully--when you--came back, -Philip?" - -"I was hurt, darling, and wished to see whether you wanted the real -me--or a painted puppet. But then you changed suddenly--and I knew not -what to think." - -Cleone nestled closer. - -"Because I thought you--did not care! But oh, Philip, Philip, I have -been so unhappy!" - -Philip promptly kissed her. - -"And--last night--Philip, you don't think I--" - -"Sweetheart! Is it likely that I'd believe ill of you?" - -She hid her face. - -"I--I believed--ill--of you," she whispered. - -"But you do not believe it now, sweetheart?" - -"No, oh no! But--but--that duel with Mr. Bancroft. Was it--was -it--some--French lady?" - -Philip was silent for a moment. - -"No, Cleone. That is all I can say." - -"Was it"--her voice was breathless--"was it--me?" - -Philip did not answer. - -"It was! How wonderful!" - -Philip was startled. - -"You are pleased, Cleone? Pleased?" - -"Of course I am! I--oo!" She gave a little wriggle of delight. "Why did -you not tell me?" - -"It is not--one of the things one tells one's lady-love," said Philip. - -"Oh! And to-day? How did you--persuade Sir Deryk?" - -"Through the arm. But he had no intention of holding you to your word." - -Cleone grew rather rigid. - -"Oh--indeed? In-deed?" - -Philip was mystified. - -"You did not want to be held to it, did you, _chérie_?" - -"N-no. But--I don't like him, Philip." - -"I did not, I confess. I think I do now." - -"Do you? And what of James?" - -"Oh, James! He will recover." - -There was a pause while Cleone digested this. - -"Philip?" - -"Cleone?" - -"You--you--don't care for Jenny, do you?" - -"Jenny? Cleone, for shame! Because I was polite--" - -"More than that, Philip!" - -"Well, dearest, no one paid any heed to her or was kind. What would -you?" - -"It was only that? I thought--I thought--" - -"Cleone, you think too much," he chided her. "Next you will accuse me -of loving Ann Nutley!" It was a master-stroke, and he knew it. - -"You didn't? Not a tiny bit?" - -"Not an atom!" - -"And no one--in Paris?" - -"No one. I have pretended, but they all knew that I had already lost my -heart." - -"You pretended?... Oh!" - -"One must, sweetest." - -"But--" - -He drew her closer. - -"But never, most beautiful, did I become engaged--twice in one -evening!" He stifled the cry that rose to her lips. - -"Philip, that is ungallant, and--and hateful!" - -He laughed. - -"Is it not? Ah, Cleone! Tell me, my dearest, what is in your locket?" - -"Something I meant to burn," she murmured. - -"But did not?" - -"No--I could not." She fumbled at her bosom and drew out the trinket. -"See for yourself, Philip." - -He opened it. A rolled lock of brown hair fell out and a torn scrap of -parchment. Philip turned it over. - -"Yours till death, Philip," he read. "Cleone, my love." - -She buried her face on his shoulder. - -"Your--hair--your poor hair!" she said. - -"All gone! Look up, Cleone!" - -She lifted her face. He gazed down at her, rapt. - -"Oh, Cleone--I shall write a sonnet to your wonderful eyes!" he -breathed. - - - - - Twenty - - Mademoiselle de Chaucheron Rings Down the Curtain - - -Sir Maurice Jettan stood in the withdrawing-room of the Hotel Cleone -and studied himself in the glass. He smiled a little and straightened -his shoulders. - -There came a swish of skirts in the passage without, and the door -opened. In walked Cleone, a fair vision in a gown of pure white satin -and lace. - -Sir Maurice turned. He raised his quizzing-glass the better to inspect -his daughter-in-law. - -"Upon my soul, Cleone!" he ejaculated. - -Cleone swept him a curtsey, laughing. - -"Is it not ridiculous? Philip insisted. Wait till you see him!" She ran -to the mirror. "Do you like the way my hair is dressed, father?" - -"I am struck dumb by the whole effect!" answered Sir Maurice. "Yes, I -like that white rose in your hair." - -"Oh, you must tell Philip that! He spent hours and hours trying -to place it to his entire satisfaction! It has been terrible, _je -t'assure_. Yes, I am beginning to acquire an accent, am I not? Philip -nearly tore his beautiful wig in his anxiety!" She re-arranged the -roses at her breast. "At one time I expected him to summon François to -his assistance. But he refrained, and here am I!" - -Sir Maurice sat down. - -"Has he been dressing you, my dear?" - -"Has he--! For the past three hours, sir! He has driven my maid -distracted." She started to count on her fingers. "He spent half an -hour superintending my hair-dressing and another half an hour placing -this rose and the pearls. Then half an hour went to my patches--this is -when he nearly tore his wig!--he could not decide where to put them. -The arrangement of my gown occupied quite an hour in all. And then he -was much put out over my jewels." She held up her fingers. "I vow they -are red and sore, sir! I have had rings pushed on them, and dragged -off them, until I was nigh screaming with impatience! But now I am -dressed--and I have been told on pain of Philip's direst wrath to _n'y -toucher pas_!" She sat down on the couch beside Sir Maurice and slipped -her hand in his. "Is he not absurd? And oh, I am prodigious nervous!" - -"Why, my dear? What should make you so?" - -"You see, it is my first appearance in Paris--it is to be my first -ball--and I am so afraid I shall not understand what is said to me, -or--or something mortifying!" - -"Not understand? Nonsense, Clo! Why, you have talked hardly any English -since you have been married." - -"Yes, but I am not at all fluent. Philip says everyone will be most -amiable, but--oh, dear!" - -At that moment François darted into the room, a harassed frown on his -face. - -"Ah, _pardon, madame! Pardon, m'sieu'! Je cherche la tabatière de -m'sieu' Philippe!_" - -"_Laquelle?_" asked Cleone. Sir Maurice was amused by her serious air. -"The one with the pearls?" - -"_Mais oui, madame._ It is this fool of a Jacques who has lost it, -_sans doute_! Ah, _la voilà_!" He seized the errant box and skipped out -again. Cleone breathed a sigh of relief. - -"How terrible if it had been really lost!" she said. - -Sir Maurice laughed. - -"Would it have been so great a catastrophe?" - -"But of course! It matches his dress, you understand." - -"I see." Sir Maurice smothered another laugh. "My dear, do you know -that it is three years since last I was in this city of cities?" - -"Is it? Don't you think it is a wonderful place? Philip took me for a -walk yesterday, and I was enchanted! And this house--I know I shall -never bear to leave it! Philip says that the Hotel Cleone will be the -most fashionable one in Paris! I was so surprised when he brought me -here! I had no idea that there was a house waiting for me. He and -François got all ready the week before our marriage! I've never been so -happy in my life! And to-night I am to see Philip in what he calls his -milieu. He tells me he was never at home in London." - -"Philip in his milieu. Paris." Sir Maurice smiled down at her. "When I -think of what Philip was not quite a year ago...." - -"It seems impossible, doesn't it? But oh, I am glad now that I sent him -away. He is quite, quite perfect!" - -"H'm!" said Sir Maurice. - -Cleone laughed at him. - -"You pretend! I know how proud you are!" - -"Minx! I confess I am curious to see Philip in his Parisian Society. No -one knows that he is here?" - -"Not a soul. He insisted on guarding the secret until he could make a -really dramatic appearance at the Duchesse de Sauverin's ball to-night. -He is mad, you know, quite mad! Oh, here he is!" - -Philip came into the room with a rustle of stiff silks. Sir Maurice -started at him. - -"Good God, Philip, what audacity!" - -From head to foot his son was clad in white. The only splash of colour -was the red heels of his shoes; his only jewels were pearls and -diamonds; on the lapel of his coat he wore a single white rose. - -"Isn't it ridiculous?" said Cleone. "But doesn't he look beautiful?" - -"Stand up, child, and let me see you side by side.... Yes. What -audacity! Had I known, I would have attired myself in black--the old -man at the ball." - -"'Twould have made an excellent foil," agreed Philip. "But no matter. -Cleone, you have re-arranged your roses!" - -Cleone backed, warding him off. - -"I cry your pardon, sir! Oh no, let me be!" - -Philip came to her, and with deft fingers pulled the flowers into -position. - -"One of them must kiss your skin, so! To show that it is no whiter than -the skin. _Voilà, c'est bien!_" - -"Who is likely to be at the ball to-night, Philip?" asked his father. - -"_Tout le monde._ One always goes to Madame de Sauverin's balls. It is -de rigueur." - -"We shall be late!" warned Cleone. "Oh, we are late now!" - -"That is also de rigueur," said Philip. - -"Sir Maurice, _M'sieu', et Madame Jettan_!" announced the lackey. - -There was a sudden hush. All eyes turned to the late-comers. In the -doorway stood a tall gentleman, at his side two dazzling visions in -white. - -Madame de Sauverin stared for a moment in wonderment. Then she hurried -forward, hands outstretched. - -"Philippe!" - -"Philippe! _Le petit_ Philippe!" A score of voices took up the cry. -Nearly everyone there surged forward. - -Philip kissed Madame's hand. - -"_Chère madame!_ I may present my wife? My father you know." - -Cleone curtseyed low. - -"Your--wife!" Madame took Cleone's hands. "_Voyons, voyons, notre petit -Philippe s'est_ éspousé! _Et Maurice!_" - -Philip and Cleone were at the centre of a welcoming throng. Cleone's -hand was kissed a dozen times. Delighted questions were shot at Philip. - -Saint-Dantin grasped his hand. - -"_Mon cher petit!_ You have returned at last? _Et madame!_" He bowed -to the blushing Cleone. "There is no need to ask who is, _madame_." He -smiled at her. "It is evident that her name is Cleone!" - -De Vangrisse pressed forward. - -"The mysterious Cleone! _Madame, votre serviteur!_ We have all longed -to see the lady who so consistently held Philip's heart!" - -"Philippe, how long have you been in Paris?" demanded De Chatelin. "You -are going to remain? _Ah bon!_" - -"Philippe, have you an ode for the occasion?" asked another laughing -voice. - -Clothilde de Chaucheron pushed through the ring. - -"_Le petit Philippe au c[oe]ur perdu!_" she cried. - -Philip disengaged himself from the clutches of Saint-Dantin and took -his wife's hand. - -"_Mademoiselle de Chaucheron, chérie_," he said, and bowed. - -Clothilde gazed at Cleone for a moment. Then she swept a deep curtsey. - -"_Je me trompe_," she said, smiling. "_Le petit Philippe au c[oe]ur -trouvé._" - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Transformation of Philip Jettan, by -Georgette Heyer and Stella Martin - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRANSFORMATION OF PHILIP JETTAN *** - -***** This file should be named 60776-8.txt or 60776-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/7/7/60776/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: The Transformation of Philip Jettan - -Author: Georgette Heyer - Stella Martin - -Illustrator: J.C. Leyendecker - -Release Date: November 25, 2019 [EBook #60776] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRANSFORMATION OF PHILIP JETTAN *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="325" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<h1>THE TRANSFORMATION OF -PHILIP JETTAN</h1> - -<h2>GEORGETTE HEYER</h2> - -<p><i>Bibliographical Note</i></p> - -<p>First publication: Mills & Boon, London, 1923</p> - -<p>The original edition was published with the subtitle<br /> -<i>A Comedy of Manners</i>,<br /> -and the author used the pseudonym Stella Martin.<br /> -The book was later published as <i>Powder and Patch</i>,<br /> -with Chapter Twenty deleted.</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<h2><span class="smcap">Contents</span></h2> -<table> - -<tr><td><a href="#One"><span class="smcap">One</span></a></td><td>The House of Jettan</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Two"><span class="smcap">Two</span></a></td><td>In Which Is Presented Mistress Cleone Charteris</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Three"><span class="smcap">Three</span></a></td><td>Mr. Bancroft Brings Trouble into Little Fittledean</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Four"><span class="smcap">Four</span></a></td><td>The Trouble Comes to a Head</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Five"><span class="smcap">Five</span></a></td><td> In Which Philip Finds That His Uncle Is More Sympathetic Than His Father</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Six"><span class="smcap">Six</span></a></td><td>The Beginning of the Transformation</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Seven"><span class="smcap">Seven</span></a></td><td>Mr. Bancroft Comes to Paris and Is Annoyed</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Eight"><span class="smcap">Eight</span></a></td><td>In Which Philip Delivers Himself of a Rondeau</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Nine"><span class="smcap">Nine</span></a></td><td>Mr. Bancroft Is Enraged</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Ten"><span class="smcap">Ten</span></a></td><td>In Which a Letter Is Read</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Eleven"><span class="smcap">Eleven</span></a></td><td>Philip Astonishes His Uncle</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Twelve"><span class="smcap">Twelve</span></a></td><td>Philip Plays a Dangerous Game</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Thirteen"><span class="smcap">Thirteen</span></a></td><td>Sir Maurice Comes to Town</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Fourteen"><span class="smcap">Fourteen</span></a></td><td>The Strange Behaviour of Mistress Cleone</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Fifteen"><span class="smcap">Fifteen</span></a></td><td>Lady Malmerstoke on Husbands</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Sixteen"><span class="smcap">Sixteen</span></a></td><td>Mistress Cleone Finds There Is No Safety in Numbers</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Seventeen"><span class="smcap">Seventeen</span></a></td><td>Mistress Cleone at Her Wits' End</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Eighteen"><span class="smcap">Eighteen</span></a></td><td>Philip Takes Charge of the Situation</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Nineteen"><span class="smcap">Nineteen</span></a></td><td>Philip Justifies His Chin</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Twenty"><span class="smcap">Twenty</span></a></td><td>Mademoiselle de Chaucheron Rings Down the Curtain</td></tr> -</table> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="One" id="One"><span class="smcap">One</span></a><br /> -<span class="smcap">The House of Jettan</span></h2> - - -<p>If you searched among the Downs in Sussex, somewhere between Midhurst -and Brighthelmstone, inland a little, and nestling in modest seclusion -between two waves of hills, you would find Little Fittledean, a village -round which three gentlemen had built their homes. One chose the north -side, half a mile away, and on the slope of the Downs. He was Mr. -Winton, a dull man with no wife, but two children, James and Jennifer. -The second built his house west of the village, not far from the London -Road and Great Fittledean. He was one Sir Thomas Jettan. He chose his -site carefully, beside a wood, and laid out gardens after the Dutch -style. That was way back in the last century when Charles the Second -was King, and what had then been a glaring white erection, stark-naked -and blatant in its sylvan setting, was now, some seventy years later, a -fair place, creeper-hung, and made kindly by the passing of the years. -The Jettan who built it became inordinately proud of the house. Never -a day passed but he would strut round the grounds, looking at the nude -structure from a hundred different points of vantage. It was to be the -country seat of the Jettans in their old age; they were to think of it -almost as they would think of their children. It was never to be sold; -it was to pass from father to son and from son to grandson through -countless ages. Nor must it accrue to a female heir, be she never so -direct, for old Tom determined that the name of Jettan should always -be associated with the house.</p> - -<p>Old Tom propounded these notions to the whole countryside. All his -friends and his acquaintances were shown the white house and told -the tale of its owner's past misdemeanours and his present virtue—a -virtue due, he assured them, to the possession of so fair an estate. -No more would he pursue the butterfly existence that all his ancestors -had pursued before him. This house was his anchor and his interest; he -would rear his two sons to reverence it, and it might even be that the -tradition which held every Jettan to be a wild fellow at heart should -be broken at last.</p> - -<p>The neighbours laughed behind their hands at old Tom's childishness. -They dubbed the hitherto unnamed house "Tom's Pride," in good-humoured -raillery.</p> - -<p>Tom Jettan was busy thinking out a suitable name for his home when the -countryside's nickname came to his ears. He was not without humour in -spite of his vanity, and when the sobriquet had sunk into his brain, he -chuckled deep in his chest, and slapped his knee in appreciation. Not a -month later the neighbours were horrified to find, cunningly inserted -in the wrought-iron gates of the white house, a gilded scroll bearing -the legend, "Jettan's Pride." No little apprehension was felt amongst -them at having their secret joke thus discovered and utilised, and -those who next waited on Tom did so with an air of ashamed nervousness. -But Tom soon made it clear that, far from being offended, he was -grateful to them for finding an appropriate name for his home.</p> - -<p>His hopeful prophecy concerning the breaking of tradition was not -realised in either of his sons. The elder, Maurice, sowed all the wild -oats of which he was capable before taking up his abode at the Pride; -the other, Thomas, never ceased sowing wild oats, and showed no love -for the house whatsoever.</p> - -<p>When old Tom died he left a will which gave Maurice to understand that -if, by the time he was fifty years of age, he still refused to settle -down at the Pride, it was to pass to his brother and his brother's -heirs.</p> - -<p>Thomas counselled Maurice to marry and produce some children.</p> - -<p>"For damme if I do, my boy! The old man must have lost his faculties -to expect a Jettan to live in this hole! I tell ye flat, Maurice, I'll -not have the place. 'Tis you who are the elder, and you must assume -the—the responsibilities!" At that he fell a-chuckling, for he was an -irrepressible scamp.</p> - -<p>"Certainly I shall live here," answered Maurice. "Three months here, -and nine months—not here. What's to stop me?"</p> - -<p>"Does the will allow it?" asked Tom doubtfully.</p> - -<p>"It does not forbid it. And I shall get me a wife."</p> - -<p>At that Tom burst out laughing, but checked himself hurriedly as he met -his brother's reproving eye.</p> - -<p>"God save us, and the old gentleman but three days dead! Not that I -meant any disrespect, y'know. Faith, the old man 'ud be the first to -laugh with me, stap me if he wouldn't!" He stifled another laugh, and -shrugged his shoulders. "Or he would before he went crazy-pious over -this devilish great barn of a house. You'll never have the money to -keep it, Maurry," he added cheerfully, "let alone a wife."</p> - -<p>Maurice twirled his eyeglass, frowning.</p> - -<p>"My father has left even more than I expected," he said.</p> - -<p>"Oh ay! But it'll be gone after a week's play! God ha' mercy, Maurry, -do ye hope to husband it?"</p> - -<p>"Nay, I hope to husband a wife. The rest I'll leave to her."</p> - -<p>Tom came heavily to his feet. He stared at his brother, round-eyed.</p> - -<p>"Blister me, but I believe the place is turning you like the old -gentleman! Now, Maurry, Maurry, stiffen your back, man!"</p> - -<p>Maurice smiled.</p> - -<p>"It'll take more than the Pride to reform me, Tom. I'm thinking that -the place is too good to sell or throw away."</p> - -<p>"If I could lay my hand on two thousand guineas," said Tom, "anyone -could have the Pride for me!"</p> - -<p>Maurice looked up quickly.</p> - -<p>"Why, Tom, all I've got's yours, you know very well! Take what you -want—two thousand or twenty."</p> - -<p>"Devilish good of you, Maurry, but I'll not sponge on you yet. No, -don't start to argue with me, for my head's not strong enough what -with one thing and another. Tell me more of this wife of yours. Who is -it to be?"</p> - -<p>"I haven't decided," replied Maurice. He yawned slightly. "There are so -many to choose from."</p> - -<p>"Ay—you're an attractive devil—'pon my word you are! What d'ye say to -Lucy Farmer?"</p> - -<p>Maurice shuddered.</p> - -<p>"Spare me. I had thought of Marianne Tempest."</p> - -<p>"What, old Castlehill's daughter? She'd kill you in a month, lad."</p> - -<p>"But she is not—dowerless."</p> - -<p>"No. But think of it, Maurry! Think of it! A shrew at twenty!"</p> - -<p>"Then what do you think of Jane Butterfield?"</p> - -<p>Thomas pulled at his lip, irresolute.</p> - -<p>"I'm not decrying the girl, Maurice, but Lord! could you live with her?"</p> - -<p>"I've not essayed it," answered Maurice.</p> - -<p>"No, and marriage is so damned final! 'Tisn't as though ye could live -together for a month or so before ye made up your minds. I doubt the -girl would not consent to that."</p> - -<p>"And if she did consent, one would not desire to wed her," remarked -Maurice. "A pity. No, I believe I could not live with Jane."</p> - -<p>Thomas sat down again.</p> - -<p>"The truth of it is, Maurry, we Jettans must marry for love. There's -not one of us ever married without it, whether for money or no."</p> - -<p>"'Tis so unfashionable," objected Maurice. "One marries for -convenience. One may have fifty different loves."</p> - -<p>"What! All at once? I think you'd find that a trifle inconvenient, -Maurry! Lord! just fancy fifty loves, oh, the devil! And three's enough -to drive one crazed, bruise me if 'tis not."</p> - -<p>Maurice's thin lips twitched responsively.</p> - -<p>"Gad no! Fifty loves spread over a lifetime, and you're not bound to -one of them. There's bliss, Tom, you rogue!"</p> - -<p>Thomas shook a wise finger at him, his plump, good-humoured face solemn -all at once.</p> - -<p>"And not one of them's the true love, Maurry. For if she were, faith, -she'd not be one of fifty! Now, you take my advice, lad, and wait. -Damme, we'll not spoil the family record!</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">"A rakish youth, says the Jettan adage,</div> - <div class="verse">Marriage for love, and a staid old age.</div> -</div></div> - -<p>"I don't know that it's true about the staid old age, though. Maybe -'tis only those who wed for love who acquire virtue. Anyway, you'll not -break the second maxim, Maurry."</p> - -<p>"Oh?" smiled Maurice. "What's to prevent me?"</p> - -<p>Thomas had risen again. Now he slipped his arm in his brother's.</p> - -<p>"If it comes to prevention, old sobersides, I'm game. I'll make an -uproar in the church and carry off the bride. Gad, but 'twould be -amusing! Carry off one's brother's bride, under his stern nose. Devil -take it, Maurry, that's just what your nose is! I never thought on't -before—stern, grim, old—now, steady, Tom, my boy, or you'll be -laughing again with the old gentleman not yet underground!"</p> - -<p>Maurice waited for his brother's mirth to abate.</p> - -<p>"But, Tom, 'tis very well for you to counsel me not to wed without -love! I must marry, for 'tis certain you'll not, and we must have -heirs. What's to be done, I'd like to know?"</p> - -<p>"Wait, lad, wait! You're not so old that you can't afford to hold back -yet awhile."</p> - -<p>"I'm thirty-five, Tom."</p> - -<p>"Then you have fifteen years to run before you need settle down. Take -my advice, and wait!"</p> - -<p>The end of it was that Maurice did wait. For four years he continued -to rove through Europe, amusing himself in the usual way of gentlemen -of his day, but in 1729 he wrote a long letter from Paris to his -brother in London, declaring himself in love, and the lady an angel -of goodness, sweetness, amiability, and affection. He said much more -in this vein, all of which Tom had to read, yawning and chuckling by -turns. The lady was one Maria Marchant. She brought with her a fair -dowry and a placid disposition. So Tom wrote off to Maurice at once, -congratulating him, and bestowing his blessing on the alliance. He -desired his dear old Maurry to quit travelling, and to come home to his -affectionate brother Tom.</p> - -<p>In a postscript he added that he dropped five hundred guineas at -Newmarket, only to win fifteen hundred at dice the very next week, so -that had it not been for his plaguey ill-luck in the matter of a small -wager with Harry Besham, he would to-day be the most care-free of -mortals, instead of a jaded creature, creeping about in terror of the -bailiffs from hour to hour.</p> - -<p>After that there was no more correspondence. Neither brother felt that -there was anything further to be said, and they were not men to waste -their time writing to one another for no urgent matter. Thomas thought -very little more about Maurice's marriage. He supposed that the wedding -would take place in England before many months had gone by; possibly -Maurice would see fit to return at once, as he, Tom, had suggested. -In the meantime, there was nothing to be done. Tom laid his brother's -letter aside, and went on with his ordinary occupations.</p> - -<p>He lived in Half-Moon Street. His house was ruled by his cook, the wife -of Moggat, his valet-footman. She also ruled the hapless Moggat. Moggat -retaliated by ruling his jovial master as far as he was able, so one -might really say Mrs. Moggat ruled them all. As Tom was quite unaware -of this fact, it troubled him not a whit.</p> - -<p>A month after he had answered his brother's letter, Tom was disturbed -one morning while he sipped his chocolate with the news that a -gentleman wished to speak to him. Tom was in his bed-chamber, his round -person swathed in a silken wrapper of astonishing brightness. He had -not yet doffed his nightcap, and his wig lay on the dressing-table.</p> - -<p>The lean, long Moggat crept in at the door, which he seemed hardly to -open, and ahem'd directly behind his master.</p> - -<p>Tom was in the act of swallowing his chocolate, and as he had not heard -Moggat's slithering approach, the violent clearing of that worthy's -throat startled him not a little, and he choked.</p> - -<p>Tenderly solicitous, Moggat patted him on the back until the coughs and -splutters had abated. Tom bounced round in his chair to face the man.</p> - -<p>"Damn and curse it, Moggat! What d'ye mean by it? What d'ye mean by it, -I say? Crawling into a room to make a noise at me just as I'm drinking! -Yes, sir! Just as I'm drinking! Devil take you! D'ye hear me? Devil -take you!"</p> - -<p>Moggat listened in mournful silence. When Tom ceased for want -of breath, he bowed, and continued as though there had been no -interruption.</p> - -<p>"There is a gentleman below, sir, as desires to have speech with you."</p> - -<p>"A gentleman? Don't you know that gentlemen don't come calling at this -hour, ye ninny-pated jackass? Bring me some more chocolate!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, a gentleman."</p> - -<p>"I tell you no gentleman would disturb another at this hour! Have done -now, Moggat!"</p> - -<p>"And although I told the gentleman, sir, as how my master was not yet -robed and accordingly could not see any visitors, he said it was of no -consequence to him whatsoever, and he would be obliged to you to ask -him upstairs at once, sir. So I—"</p> - -<p>"Confound his impudence!" growled Tom. "What's his name?"</p> - -<p>"The gentleman, sir, on my asking what name I was to tell you, gave me -to understand that it was of no matter."</p> - -<p>"Devil take him! Show him out, Moggat! Like as not 'tis one of these -cursed bailiffs. Why, you fool, what d'ye mean by letting him in?"</p> - -<p>Moggat sighed in patient resignation.</p> - -<p>"If you will allow me to say so, sir, this gentleman is not a bailiff."</p> - -<p>"Well, who is he?"</p> - -<p>"I regret, sir, I do not know."</p> - -<p>"You're a fool! What's this fellow like?"</p> - -<p>"The gentleman"—Moggat laid ever so little stress on the word—"is -tall, sir, and—er—slim. He is somewhat dark as regards eyes and -brows, and he is dressed, if I may say so, exceedingly modishly, with -a point-edged hat, and very full-skirted puce coat, laced, French -fashion, with—"</p> - -<p>Tom snatched his nightcap off and threw it at Moggat.</p> - -<p>"Numskull! D'ye think I want a list of his clothes? Show him out, the -swarthy rogue! Show him out!"</p> - -<p>Moggat picked up the nightcap, and smoothed it sadly.</p> - -<p>"The gentleman seems anxious to see you, sir."</p> - -<p>"Ay! Trying to dun me, the rascal! Don't I know it! Blustering and—"</p> - -<p>"No, sir," said Moggat firmly. "I could not truthfully say that the -gentleman blustered. Indeed, sir, if I may say so, I think him a -singularly quiet, cool gentleman. Very soft-spoken, sir—oh, very -soft-spoken!"</p> - -<p>"Take him away!" shouted Tom. "I tell you I'll not be pestered at this -hour! I might be asleep, damme! Tell the fellow to come again at a -godly time—not at dawn! Now, don't try to argue, Moggat! I tell you, -if it were my brother himself, I'd not see him!"</p> - -<p>Moggat bowed again.</p> - -<p>"I will hinform the gentleman, sir."</p> - -<p>When the door closed behind Moggat, Tom leaned back in his chair and -picked up one of his letters. Not five minutes later the door creaked -again. Tom turned, to find Moggat at his elbow.</p> - -<p>"Eh? What d'ye want?"</p> - -<p>"Hif you please, sir, the gentleman says as how he is your brother," -said Moggat gently.</p> - -<p>Tom jumped as though he had been shot.</p> - -<p>"What? My brother? What d'ye mean? My brother?"</p> - -<p>"Sir Maurice, sir."</p> - -<p>Up flew Tom, catching at his wig and cramming it on his head all awry.</p> - -<p>"Thunder an' turf! Maurry! Here, you raving wooden-pate! How dare you -leave my brother downstairs? How dare you, I say?" He wrapped himself -more tightly in his robe than ever, and dashed headlong out of the -room, down the stairs to where Maurice awaited him.</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice was standing by the window in the library, drumming his -fingers on the sill. At his brother's tempestuous entrance he turned -and bowed.</p> - -<p>"A nice welcome you give me, Tom! 'Tell him to come again at a godly -time—I'd not see him if 'twere my brother himself,' forsooth!"</p> - -<p>Thomas hopped across the room and seized both Maurice's long, thin -hands in his plump, chubby ones.</p> - -<p>"My dear Maurry! My dear old fellow! I'd no notion 'twas you! My dolt -of a lackey—but there! When did you arrive in England?"</p> - -<p>"A week ago. I have been at the Pride."</p> - -<p>"A week? What a plague d'ye mean by not coming to me till now, ye -rogue?" As he spoke, Tom thrust Maurice into a chair, and himself sat -down opposite him, beaming with pleasure.</p> - -<p>Maurice leaned back, crossing his legs. A little smile flickered across -his mouth, but his eyes were solemn as he answered.</p> - -<p>"I had first to see my wife installed in her new home," he said.</p> - -<p>For a moment Tom stared at him.</p> - -<p>"Wife? Tare an' 'ouns, ye don't waste your time! Where and when did you -marry the lady?"</p> - -<p>"Three weeks ago, at Paris. Now I have come home to fulfil the last -part of the Jettan adage."</p> - -<p>"God ha' mercy!" ejaculated Thomas. "Not a staid old age, lad! Not you?"</p> - -<p>"Something like it," nodded Maurice. "Wait till you have seen my wife!"</p> - -<p>"Ay, I'm waiting," said Tom. "What's to do now, then? The country -squire, and half a dozen children?"</p> - -<p>The grey eyes twinkled.</p> - -<p>"Tom, I'll thank you not to be so coarse."</p> - -<p>"Coarse? <i>Coarse?</i> Gad, Maurice, what's come over you?"</p> - -<p>"I am a married man," replied Maurice. "As such I have—er—learned to -guard my tongue. My wife—"</p> - -<p>"Maurry, couldn't ye call the lady by her name?" begged Tom. "Faith, I -can't bear those two words so often, proud though ye may be of them."</p> - -<p>Maurice flushed slightly and smiled.</p> - -<p>"Maria, then. She is a very—sweet, delicate lady."</p> - -<p>"Lord! I'd made up my mind you'd wed a bold, strapping wench with a -saucy smile, Maurry!"</p> - -<p>"I? Good God, no! My w—Maria is gentle, and meek, and—"</p> - -<p>"Ay, ay, Maurry, I know!" hastily interrupted Thomas. "I must see her -for myself, so don't spoil the surprise for me, there's a good fellow! -Now have you breakfasted? No? Then come upstairs with me. Where's -that rascal Moggat? Moggat! Moggat! Ah, there you are! Go and prepare -breakfast at once, man! And bring some more chocolate to my room." -He wrapped the voluminous robe about him once more, and, seizing his -brother by the arm, led him forth to the staircase.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Thus it was that Maurice Jettan brought home his bride. She was a -gentle lady, with a sweet disposition; she adored her handsome husband, -and duly presented him with a son, Philip. When the babe was shown -to him, Tom discovered that he was a true Jettan, with all their -characteristics. His father confessed that he saw no resemblance -either to himself or to anyone, but he was nevertheless gratified by -his brother's remarks. Tom chuckled mightily and prophesied that young -Philip would prove himself a Jettan in more ways than one. He hinted at -a youth which should surpass his father's in brilliancy, and Maurice -smiled, looking proudly down at the red, crumpled face.</p> - -<p>"And," concluded Tom, "he'll have a papa who can advise him in all -matters of fashion better than any man I know. Why, Maurice, you will -show him the fashionable world! You must take care you do not stagnate -here. You must not fall out of Society."</p> - -<p>Maurice was still smiling down at his offspring.</p> - -<p>"No. I must not fall out, Tom. The youngster will need me later on."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>For five years he continued to take his place in London Society, but -he found that the desire for excitement and gaiety was growing less -and less within him. The death of Maria gave this desire the <i>coup de -grâce</i>. Maurice took his small son down to the Pride as soon as he had -recovered from the first shock of bereavement, and after that for some -years he rarely visited London, except sometimes to see his brother or -his tailor. Then he seemed to grow restless again, and started to spend -more time with Tom. Bit by bit he re-entered the world he had quitted, -yet never did he give himself up to it as once he had done. The Pride -seemed to call him, and little Philip held his heart with both hands. -Thereafter he spent his time between London and the Pride. When he felt -restless, he packed his bags and flitted either to London or to Paris; -when the restlessness had passed, back he came to the Pride, there to -spend two or three peaceful months.</p> - -<p>When Philip was eighteen, he took him to London. Philip was very -thoroughly bored. Sir Maurice concluded that he was too young to be -introduced into Society, and he sent him back to the country, thinking -that in two or three years' time the lad would be only too anxious to -leave it.</p> - -<p>But the years slipped by, and Philip showed no desire to follow in -his father's footsteps. He refused to go on the Grand Tour; he cared -nothing for Dress or Fashionable Manners; he despised the life of -Courts; he preferred to remain in the country, usurping, to a great -extent, his father's position as squire. He was now some twenty-three -years old, tall and handsome, but, as his father told his uncle, "an -unpolished cub."</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="Two" id="Two"><span class="smcap">Two</span></a><br /> -<span class="smcap">In Which Is Presented Mistress Cleone Charteris</span></h2> - - -<p>A while back I spoke of three gentlemen who built their homes round -Little Fittledean. Of one I said but little, of the second I spoke -at length and to the tune of one whole chapter. It now behoves me to -mention the third gentleman, who chose his site on the outskirts of -the village, some two miles from Jettan's Pride, and to the east. To -reach it you must walk along the main street until the cottages grow -sparse and yet more sparse, and the cobblestones and pavement cease -altogether. The street turns then into a lane with trees flanking -it and grass growing to the sides. A few steps further, and the -moss-covered roof of Sharley House peeps above a high holly hedge which -screens the place from the passer-by.</p> - -<p>There lived Mr. Charteris, and his father and grandfather before him. -Mr. Charteris was the happy possessor of a wife and a daughter. It is -with the daughter that I am most concerned.</p> - -<p>Her name was Cleone, and she was very lovely. She had thick gold curls, -eyes of cornflower blue, and a pair of red lips that pouted or smiled -in equal fascination. She was just eighteen, and the joy and despair of -all the young men of the countryside. Particularly was she the despair -of Mr. Philip Jettan.</p> - -<p>Philip was head over ears in love with Cleone. He had been so ever -since she returned from the convent where she had received a slight -education. Before her departure for this convent, she and Philip, James -and Jennifer Winton, had played together and quarrelled together since -any of them could walk. Then Cleone went away to acquire polish, and -the two boys thought very little more about her, until she returned, -and then they thought of nothing else but her. The romping playfellow -was gone for ever, but in her place was a Vision. Philip and James -began to eye one another askance.</p> - -<p>Delighted by the new state of affairs, Cleone queened it right royally, -and played one young man against the other. But it was not long before -she found herself thinking far more about Mr. Jettan than was seemly. -He began to haunt her dreams, and when he came to visit the house her -heart fluttered a little and showed a tendency to jump into her throat.</p> - -<p>Cleone was stern with her heart, for there was much in Mr. Jettan that -did not meet with her approval. However masterful and handsome he might -be—and Philip was both—he was distressingly boorish in many ways. -Before her return to Sharley House Cleone had spent a few months with -her aunt, who lived in Town. Several men had made very elegant love to -her and showered compliments about her golden head. She had not cared -the snap of her fingers for any one of them, but their graceful homage -was very gratifying. Philip's speech was direct and purposeful, and his -compliments were never neat. His clothes also left much to be desired. -Cleone had an eye for colour and style; she liked her cavaliers to be -<i>à la mode</i>. Sir Matthew Trelawney, for instance, had affected the most -wonderful stockings, clocked with butterflies; Frederick King wore -so excellently fitting a coat that, it was said, he required three -men to ease him into it. Philip's coat was made for comfort; he would -have scorned the stockings of Matthew Trelawney. He even refused to -buy a wig, but wore his own brown hair brushed back from his face and -tied loosely at his neck with a piece of black ribbon. No powder, no -curls, unpolished nails, and an unpainted face—guiltless, too, of even -the smallest patch—it was, thought Cleone, enough to make one weep. -Nevertheless, she did not weep, because, for one thing, it would have -made her eyes red, and another, it would be of very little use. Philip -must be reformed, since she—well, since she did not dislike him.</p> - -<p>At the present time Philip had just returned from Town, whither he -had been sent by his father, ostensibly to transact some business -concerning the estate, but really that his unfashionable soul might -succumb to the delights of Town. Philip was not aware of this secret -purpose, but Cleone knew all about it. She was very fond of Sir -Maurice, and he of her. When Sir Maurice saw which way Philip looked -for a wife, he was pleased enough, although a Jettan might have cast -his eyes much higher. But Sir Maurice, mindful of the old adage, was -content to let things run their course. All that worried him was the -apparent obduracy of his son in the matter of the first prophecy. He -loved Philip, he did not wish to lose him, he liked his companionship, -but—"By God, sir, you are a damned dull dog!"</p> - -<p>At that young Philip's straight brows drew close over the bridge of his -nose, only to relax again as he smiled.</p> - -<p>"Well, sir, I hold two gay dogs in the family to be enough."</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice's mouth quivered responsively.</p> - -<p>"What's that, Philip? Do you seek to reprove me?"</p> - -<p>"Not a whit, sir. You are you, but I—am I."</p> - -<p>"So it seems," said his father. "And you being yourself have fallen in -love with a mighty pretty child; still being yourself, you are like to -be left disconsolate."</p> - -<p>Philip had flushed slightly at the reference to Cleone. The end of the -sentence left him frowning.</p> - -<p>"What mean you, sir?"</p> - -<p>The shrewd grey eyes, so like his own, regarded him pityingly.</p> - -<p>"Little Mistress Cleone will have none of you an you fail to mend your -ways, my son. Do you not know it? What has that dainty piece to do with -a raw clodhopper like yourself?"</p> - -<p>Philip answered low.</p> - -<p>"If Mistress Cleone gives me her love it will be for me as I am. She is -worthy a man, not a powdered, ruffled beau."</p> - -<p>"A man! <i>Sacré tonnerre</i>, 'tis what you are, <i>hein</i>? Philip, child, get -you to Town to your uncle and buy a wig."</p> - -<p>"No, sir, I thank you. I shall do very well without a wig."</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice drove his cane downwards at the floor in exasperation.</p> - -<p>"<i>Mille diables!</i> You'll to Town as I say, defiant boy! You may finish -the business with that scoundrel Jenkins while you are about it!"</p> - -<p>Philip nodded.</p> - -<p>"That I will do, sir, since you wish it."</p> - -<p>"Bah!" retorted his father.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He had gone; now he had come back, the business details settled to -his satisfaction, but with no wig. Sir Maurice was pleased to see -him again, more pleased than he appeared, as Philip was well aware. -He listened to what his son had to tell him of Tom Jettan, failed to -glean any of the latest society gossip, and dismissed Philip from his -presence.</p> - -<p>Half an hour later Philip rode in at the gates of Sharley House, -sitting straight in his saddle, a pulse in his throat throbbing in -anticipation.</p> - -<p>Cleone saw him coming. She was seated in the parlour window, -embroidering in a languid fashion. Truth to tell, she was tired of her -own company and not at all averse from seeing Philip. As he passed the -window she bent forward a little, smiling down at him. Philip saw her -at once; indeed, he had been eyeing every window of the warm, red house -in the hope that she might be sitting in one. He reined in his horse -and bowed to her, hat in hand.</p> - -<p>Cleone opened the casement wider, leaning over the sill, her golden -curls falling forward under the strings of her cap.</p> - -<p>"Why, sir, are you back already?" she asked, dimpling.</p> - -<p>"Already!" he echoed. "It has been years! Ten years, Cleone!"</p> - -<p>"Pooh!" she said. "Ten days—not a moment more!"</p> - -<p>"Is that all it has seemed to you?" he said.</p> - -<p>Cleone's cheek became faintly tinged with pink.</p> - -<p>"What more?" she retorted. "'Tis all it is!"</p> - -<p>Into Philip's eyes came a gleam of triumph.</p> - -<p>"Aha! You've counted, then! Oh, Cleone!"</p> - -<p>The roguish look fled.</p> - -<p>"Oh!" cried Cleone, pouting. "How—how—monstrous—"</p> - -<p>"Monstrous what, dear Cleone?"</p> - -<p>"Impudent!" she ended. "I declare I won't see you!" As if to add weight -to this statement, she shut the casement and moved away into the room.</p> - -<p>Presently, however, she relented, and tripped downstairs to the -withdrawing-room, where she found Mr. Jettan paying his respects to her -mamma. She curtseyed very demurely, allowed him to kiss the tips of her -fingers, and seated herself beside Madam Charteris.</p> - -<p>Madam patted her hand.</p> - -<p>"Well, child, here is Philip returned from Town with not a word to tell -us of his gaiety!"</p> - -<p>Cleone raised her eyes to survey Philip.</p> - -<p>"Mamma, there is naught to tell. Philip is such a staid, sober person."</p> - -<p>"Tut-tut!" said her mother. "Now, Philip, tell us all! Did you not meet -<i>one</i> beauty to whom you lost your heart?"</p> - -<p>"No, madam," answered Philip. "The painted society dames attract me not -at all." His eyes rested on Cleone as he spoke.</p> - -<p>"I dare say you've not yet heard the news?" Cleone said, after a slight -pause. "Or did Sir Maurice tell you?"</p> - -<p>"No—that is, I do not know. What is it? Good news?"</p> - -<p>"It remains to be seen," she replied. "'Tis that Mr. Bancroft is to -return! What think you of that?"</p> - -<p>Philip stiffened.</p> - -<p>"Bancroft? Sir Harold's son?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Henry Bancroft. Is it not exciting? Only think—he has been away -nigh on eight years! Why, he must be—" she began to count on her -rosy-tipped fingers "—twenty-six, or twenty-seven. Oh, a man! I do so -wonder what he is like now!"</p> - -<p>"H'm!" remarked Philip. His voice held no enthusiasm. "What does he -want here?"</p> - -<p>Cleone's long lashes fluttered down to hide the laugh in her eyes.</p> - -<p>"To see his papa, of course. After so many years!"</p> - -<p>Philip gave vent to a sound very like a snort.</p> - -<p>"I'll wager there's a more potent reason! Else had he come home ere -now."</p> - -<p>"Well, I will tell you. Papa rode over to Great Fittledean two days -ago, and he found Sir Harold mightily amused, did he not, Mamma?"</p> - -<p>Madam Charteris assented vaguely. She was stitching at a length of -satin, content to drop out of the conversation.</p> - -<p>"Yes. It seems that Henry—"</p> - -<p>"Who?" Philip straightened in his chair.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Bancroft," said Cleone. A smile trembled on her lips. "It seems -that Mr. Bancroft has had occasion to fight a duel. Is it not too -dreadful?"</p> - -<p>Philip agreed with more heartiness than he had yet shown.</p> - -<p>"I am sure I do not know why gentlemen must fight. 'Tis very terrible, -I think. But, of course, 'tis monstrous gallant and exciting. And poor -Mr. Bancroft has been advised to leave London for a while, because some -great personage is angered. Papa did not say who was the gentleman he -fought, but Sir Harold was vastly amused." She glanced up at Philip, in -time to catch sight of the scornful frown on his face. "Oh, Philip, do -<i>you</i> know? Have you perhaps heard?"</p> - -<p>"No one who has been in Town this last week could fail to have heard," -said Philip shortly. Then, very abruptly, he changed the subject.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>When Philip came back to the Pride it was close on the dinner hour. He -walked slowly upstairs to change his clothes, for on that point Sir -Maurice was obdurate. He would not allow buckskins or riding-boots at -his table. He himself was fastidious to a fault. Every evening he -donned stiff satins and velvets; his thin face was painted, powdered -and patched; his wig tied with great precision in the nape of his neck. -He walked now with a stick, but his carriage was still fairly upright. -The stick was, as Philip told him, a mere affectation.</p> - -<p>Philip was rather silent during the first part of the meal, but when -the lackeys left the room, and Sir Maurice pushed the port towards him, -he spoke suddenly, as if the words had hovered on his tongue for some -time.</p> - -<p>"Father, do you hear that Bancroft is to return?"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice selected a nut from the dish before him, cracking it -between his long, white fingers.</p> - -<p>"I believe someone told me. What of it?"</p> - -<p>"You said nothing of it to me."</p> - -<p>The grey eyes lifted.</p> - -<p>"Is he a friend of yours? I did not know."</p> - -<p>"A friend!" Philip set his glass down with a snap. "Hardly, sir!"</p> - -<p>"Now what's to do?" asked his father. "Why the scorn?"</p> - -<p>"Sir, if you could but hear the gossip about him!"</p> - -<p>"I have no doubt I should be vastly entertained," said Sir Maurice. -"What's the tale?"</p> - -<p>"The fellow is for ever embroiling himself in some low quarrel. This -time it is Lady Marchand. Faugh!"</p> - -<p>"Lady Marchand? Not Dolly Marchand?"</p> - -<p>"I believe so. Why, sir, do you know her?"</p> - -<p>"I—er—knew her mother. Tell me, is she as charming?"</p> - -<p>"As I know neither her mother, nor Lady Marchand—"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice sighed.</p> - -<p>"No. Of course not. Go on."</p> - -<p>"It's a damned sordid tale, sir, and I'll spare you the details. Lord -Marchand and Bancroft fought out at Ipswich. Bancroft wounded him in -the lung, and 'tis said he'll not recover."</p> - -<p>"Clumsy," remarked Sir Maurice. "So Bancroft retires?"</p> - -<p>"The Prince of Wales is furious, as well he might be. And Bancroft -brings himself and his morals here."</p> - -<p>A faint smile hovered on Sir Maurice's lips.</p> - -<p>"And Mr. Jettan is righteously indignant. From which I gather that -Mistress Cleone is prepared to welcome this slayer of hearts. You'd -best have bought a wig, Philip."</p> - -<p>In spite of himself, Philip laughed.</p> - -<p>"Sir, you are incorrigible!"</p> - -<p>"<i>Faute de mieux.</i> And whence, if I may ask, did you glean all -this—sordid information, oh my righteous son?"</p> - -<p>"From Tom, of course. He could talk of nothing else."</p> - -<p>"Alack! The saint is still upon his pedestal. In fact, the story was -forced upon you. Philip, you enrage me." He looked up and met his son's -amused glance. "Yes, child, I am enraged. Pass the wine."</p> - -<p>Philip pushed the decanter towards him. His rather stern eyes were -twinkling.</p> - -<p>"I'll swear no one ever before possessed so outrageous a sire," -he said. "I've heard of some who disinherited their sons for -disreputable behaviour, but it seems you are like to disinherit me for -irreproachable conduct."</p> - -<p>"It's a <i>piquante</i> situation," agreed Sir Maurice. "But I shan't -disinherit you."</p> - -<p>"No?"</p> - -<p>"Where's the use? With no money you could not hope to—ah—follow in my -footsteps. I've a mind to turn you out of the house, though."</p> - -<p>"Half a mind," corrected Philip. "The other half, sir, rejoices in my -unblemished reputation."</p> - -<p>"Does it?" Sir Maurice was mildly interested. "Faith, I did not know -that."</p> - -<p>"Sir, were I to break away and become as flighty as you wish, no one -would be more aghast than yourself."</p> - -<p>"You infer, my son, that I desire you to follow not in my footsteps, -but in—let us say, Bancroft's. Nothing could more thoroughly disgust -me."</p> - -<p>"Ah!" Philip leaned forward eagerly. "You admit that?"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice sipped his wine.</p> - -<p>"Certainly. I abhor clumsiness in an <i>affaire</i>." He watched Philip -draw back. "An <i>affaire</i> of the heart should be daintily conducted. A -Jettan should bear in mind that for him there can be only one love; -the others," he waved his hand, "should be treated with the delicacy -that they deserve. Above all, they should end lightly. I would have no -woman the worse for you, child, but I would have you know women and the -world. I would have you experience the pleasures and the displeasures -of Polite Society; I would have you taste the joys of Hazard, and the -exhilaration of your sword against another's; I would have you take -pains in the selection of a cravat, or the designing of a vest; I would -have you learn the way to turn a neat compliment and a pretty phrase; -above all, I would have you know yourself, your fellow-men, and the -world." He paused, studying his son. Then he smiled. "Well? What have -you to say to my peroration?"</p> - -<p>Philip answered simply, and in admiration.</p> - -<p>"Why, sir, that I am spellbound by your fluency. In truth, Father, you -have a remarkably beautiful voice."</p> - -<p>"Bah!" snapped Sir Maurice.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="Three" id="Three"><span class="smcap">Three</span></a><br /> -<span class="smcap">Mr. Bancroft Brings Trouble into Little Fittledean</span></h2> - - -<p>On a particularly sunny morning, some five or six days after Mr. -Jettan's return from London town, the main street of Little Fittledean -was made brighter still by the passage of an Apparition.</p> - -<p>The Apparition wore a coat of palest apricot cloth, with a flowered -vest of fine brocade, and startling white small-clothes. Red-heeled -shoes were on his feet, and his stockings were adorned by sprawling -golden clocks. He carried an amber-clouded cane and a jewelled -snuff-box, while ever and anon he raised a cobwebby handkerchief to his -aristocratic nose. He minced down the street towards the market-place, -followed by the awe-stricken glances of an amazed population. The -inhabitants of the village had never seen anything so wonderful or so -remarkable as this gorgeous gentleman. They watched the high red heels -click along the road, and admired the beautiful set of the Apparition's -coat. A group of children stopped playing to stare, open-mouthed. The -Apparition heeded them not. It may have been that he was oblivious of -their existence. Not even when a piping treble requested "John" to -"look'ee now at them shoes!" did he show that he realised the presence -of anyone but himself in the village. He minced on, very languid, and -suitably bored.</p> - -<p>Further down the street a gentleman had reined in his horse to speak to -a curtseying dame, who plucked shyly at her apron, smiling up at him. -Presently he, too, became aware of the sound of clicking heels. Even as -the buxom dame gazed past him with wide eyes, he looked up and saw the -Apparition.</p> - -<p>I would not have you think that the Apparition noticed him. On he went, -swinging his cane and yawning.</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice turned in his saddle the better to see those pearly -small-clothes. His horse cocked both ears inquiringly and blew down his -nostrils.</p> - -<p>"Well, I'm damned!" said Sir Maurice beneath his breath. "Puppy!"</p> - -<p>Mr. Bancroft proceeded leisurely towards the market-place. He was very, -very bored, and he had walked over from Great Fittledean in search -of possible amusement. He almost despaired of finding it, but Fate -favoured him.</p> - -<p>Crossing the market-place, a basket on her arm and a very becoming hat -tied over her curls, was Mistress Cleone. She was tripping along quite -unconcernedly, her cheeks just tinged with colour, and her big eyes -bluer than ever. Mr. Bancroft lost a little of his languor. It might -almost be said that his eye brightened.</p> - -<p>Cleone was coming towards him, and it was markedly evident that Mr. -Bancroft made no attempt to step aside. On the contrary, he appeared -to be engrossed in the contemplation of a cat right away on his left. -Cleone was peeping inside her basket; she did not perceive Mr. Bancroft -until she had walked into him. Then she gave a startled cry, fell back, -and stared.</p> - -<p>Mr. Bancroft was profuse in his apologies. He swept off his hat and -made her a low bow, sinking back and back on his bent left leg.</p> - -<p>"Oh!" gasped Cleone, becomingly flustered. "Gracious! Is it you, Mr. -Bancroft?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Bancroft said that it was. He was very modest about it, and he -dubbed himself a clodhopping oaf so to have discommoded Cleone.</p> - -<p>Cleone dimpled, curtseyed, and prepared to go on her way. This, -however, Mr. Bancroft would not allow. He insisted on taking her -basket, which, he protested, was monstrous heavy for her fair hands to -support.</p> - -<p>Cleone looked up at him provocatively.</p> - -<p>"Sir, I fear I am a stranger to you!"</p> - -<p>"A stranger! Why, madam, is it likely that once I had seen I could ever -forget your sweet face?" cried Mr. Bancroft. "Those blue eyes, madam, -left a deep imprint on my soul; those soft lips—"</p> - -<p>"But," interrupted Cleone, blushing, "my name escaped your memory. -Confess, Mr. Bancroft, it is indeed so?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Bancroft waved his handkerchief with a superb gesture.</p> - -<p>"A name—bah! What is it? 'Tis the face that remains with me. Names do, -indeed, escape me. How could a mere name conjure up this fair image?" -He bowed slightly. "Your name should be Venus, madam."</p> - -<p>"Sir!" Cleone was shocked. "I am Cleone Charteris, Mr. Bancroft," she -said primly.</p> - -<p>Mr. Bancroft was quite equal to the occasion.</p> - -<p>"My dear," he said fondly, "do you think I did not know it?"</p> - -<p>Cleone shook her head.</p> - -<p>"You did not know it. And, indeed, I am prodigiously hurt and offended -that you should have forgot me."</p> - -<p>"Forgot you?" Mr. Bancroft was derisive. "Forget the little nymph who -so tormented me in my youth? Fie on you, madam!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I did not! How can you say so, sir? 'Twas you who were always so -provoking! Do you remember how we played? You and Jennifer and I and -Philip—oh, and James."</p> - -<p>"The games I remember," he answered. "But Jennifer, no. And who are -Philip and James?"</p> - -<p>"You've a monstrous short memory," reproved Cleone. "Of course you -remember Philip Jettan?"</p> - -<p>"How could I hope to remember anyone but your fair self?" he protested. -"Could I be sensible of another's presence when you were there?"</p> - -<p>Cleone giggled. She found Mr. Bancroft's compliments very entertaining -and novel.</p> - -<p>"You are quite ridiculous, sir. And this is my home."</p> - -<p>"Alas!" sighed Mr. Bancroft. "I would it were a mile away." He opened -the gate and held it for her, bowing. "May I pay my respects to Madam -Charteris?" he begged.</p> - -<p>"If you please, sir," said Cleone, eyes cast down.</p> - -<p>They found madam in the hall, speaking to one of the servants. When she -saw the resplendent Mr. Bancroft she gasped, and fell back a pace.</p> - -<p>Bancroft stepped forward, hat in hand.</p> - -<p>"I dare not hope for recognition, madam," he bowed. "Henry Bancroft -begs you will allow him to kiss your hand."</p> - -<p>Madam Charteris extended it weakly.</p> - -<p>"Henry Bancroft? Gracious heaven, is it indeed you?"</p> - -<p>Bancroft kissed the tips of her fingers, holding them lightly to his -mouth with two fingers and a thumb.</p> - -<p>"I met Mistress Cleone in the market-place," he told her. "Conceive my -surprise, madam, my joyful ecstasy!"</p> - -<p>"Indeed!" stammered madam. "In the market-place—to be sure."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Bancroft was so kind as to relieve me of my basket," explained her -daughter. "He pretends that he had not forgot me, Mamma! But he cannot -deceive me."</p> - -<p>"He never sought to deceive you, Mistress Cleone. He spoke sooth when -he said your image had remained with him throughout."</p> - -<p>"Take him into the garden, Cleone," begged madam. "He will wish to see -your papa."</p> - -<p>It had not occurred to Mr. Bancroft, but he swallowed it with a good -grace.</p> - -<p>"Will you conduct me thither, Mistress Cleone?" He bowed, one arm -extended.</p> - -<p>Cleone laid the tips of her fingers on the arm.</p> - -<p>"Certainly, sir. We shall find Papa among the roses." They walked to -the door.</p> - -<p>"The roses!" sighed Mr. Bancroft. "A fit setting for your beauty, dear -Cleone."</p> - -<p>Cleone gave a little gurgle of laughter.</p> - -<p>"'Tis Papa's beauty they frame, sir, not mine," she replied.</p> - -<p>Twenty minutes later Sir Maurice walked into the rose-garden to find -Bancroft and Cleone seated in an arbour engaged in close converse, -while Mr. Charteris nipped off the dead flowers nearby.</p> - -<p>Mr. Charteris welcomed his visitor with a wave of his large scissors.</p> - -<p>"Good day, Sir Maurice! What a very pleasant, warm day it is, to be -sure! Did you ride over to see us?"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice drew him apart.</p> - -<p>"I met that—that rainbow in the village. What a plague is it? What -does he do here?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Charteris' chubby countenance was wreathed in a great, sly smile, -suspiciously like a grin.</p> - -<p>"Have you ever seen aught to equal it?" he chuckled. "'Tis young -Bancroft—in seclusion."</p> - -<p>"I guessed as much. In seclusion, is he? Puppy!"</p> - -<p>Mr. Charteris held up his hands.</p> - -<p>"Oh, but Sir Maurice! A mighty soft-spoken youth—a polished gentleman, -I assure you."</p> - -<p>"Polished coxcomb!" snapped Sir Maurice. "Confound his impudence!" He -turned and walked towards the arbour.</p> - -<p>Cleone rose and came forward.</p> - -<p>"Why, Sir Maurice! I did not see you!"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice raised both her hands to his lips.</p> - -<p>"You were otherwise engaged, my dear. Will you present your cavalier?"</p> - -<p>Cleone frowned upon him.</p> - -<p>"Sir Maurice—! This is Mr. Bancroft, sir. Mr. Bancroft, Sir Maurice -Jettan."</p> - -<p>Mr. Bancroft's hat swept the ground. His powdered head was bent.</p> - -<p>"I am delighted to renew my acquaintance with you, sir."</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice inclined his head.</p> - -<p>"I hear you intend to honour Fittledean for some few weeks?" he said. -An inward laugh seemed to shake him. "You must meet my son, Philip."</p> - -<p>"Nothing could give me more pleasure," Bancroft assured him. "I shall -hope to do so at once. I am transported to meet such old friends, and -to find that one"—he bowed to Cleone—"had not forgot me."</p> - -<p>"H'm!" said Sir Maurice cryptically. Suddenly he smiled upon the -younger man. "I have ridden over to beg Mr. Charteris to honour me at -dinner on Wednesday—"</p> - -<p>"Delighted, delighted!" nodded Charteris, who had joined them.</p> - -<p>"—with madam and Cleone. You'll come, my dear? I have already spoken -to your mamma."</p> - -<p>Cleone slipped her hand in his arm.</p> - -<p>"Why, it's very kind of you, Sir Maurice. Thank you very much."</p> - -<p>He patted the little hand. Then he again transferred his attention to -Mr. Bancroft.</p> - -<p>"I trust you too will honour us, sir?"</p> - -<p>"It is prodigious amiable of you, sir. I hasten to accept. On -Wednesday, I think you said? With all the pleasure on earth!"</p> - -<p>"Cleone, my dear, give me your arm as far as that rose-bush. You shall -choose me a button-hole, if you will. No, no, Charteris, with her own -fair fingers!" He bore Cleone away to the other end of the garden, -leaving Mr. Bancroft disconsolate. When they were out of hearing Sir -Maurice looked down into the roguish blue eyes. "My dear, you are a -minx."</p> - -<p>Cleone dimpled charmingly.</p> - -<p>"I don't know why you should say so, sir."</p> - -<p>"Of course not," agreed Sir Maurice. "Now what is the game? It's to -make Philip jealous, eh?"</p> - -<p>"Sir! How can you?"</p> - -<p>"My love, I know all about you, for I am an old man. Make Philip -jealous by all means."</p> - -<p>"I'm sure I never—"</p> - -<p>"Of course not. But I think, with you, that it would be a very good -plan. The boy is too stolid and cock-sure."</p> - -<p>"Cock—Oh, indeed!"</p> - -<p>"So if you shake Philip up from his toes to his head—you'll earn a -father's blessing."</p> - -<p>Cleone controlled a trembling lip.</p> - -<p>"Sir—you are—a very naughty—conspirator."</p> - -<p>"We'll leave it at that," said Sir Maurice. "Now choose me a rose, -little witch. Gad, if I were ten years younger I'd make Philip jealous -myself!"</p> - -<p>Cleone tip-toed, her hands on his shoulders.</p> - -<p>"You are very, very wicked," she told him gravely.</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice kissed her.</p> - -<p>"So are you, minx, and I want you for my daughter. We are so well -suited."</p> - -<p>Cleone blushed fiery red and hid her face in his coat.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Sir Maurice rode home wrapped in thought. Now and again he chuckled -softly to himself, but when later he met his son he was as solemn as -ever.</p> - -<p>Philip came into the library, riding-whip in hand. He had been on the -fields all the morning, and Sir Maurice eyed his boots with disfavour. -Philip sank into a chair.</p> - -<p>"Two of the big meadows are cut, sir. We should finish by next week." -He glanced anxiously out of the window. "I hope the rain holds off."</p> - -<p>"Oh, it will," replied his father placidly.</p> - -<p>"I am not so sure. Last summer the hay was black. Did you—er—did you -ride into the village?"</p> - -<p>"I did."</p> - -<p>"And—and did you go to—Sharley House?"</p> - -<p>"Ay."</p> - -<p>"Are they—did they accept?" Philip played with his whip, feigning -unconcern.</p> - -<p>"They did. I met that fellow Bancroft."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" said Philip. "Where?"</p> - -<p>"In the rose-garden," yawned Sir Maurice.</p> - -<p>The whip fell to the ground.</p> - -<p>"What? In the rose-garden? Whose rose-garden?"</p> - -<p>"At Sharley House, of course."</p> - -<p>"Where—was—What was he doing there?"</p> - -<p>"He was sitting in the arbour, talking to Cleone."</p> - -<p>"Confound him!" growled Philip, as if his worst fears were realised. -"What's he like?"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice glanced across at him.</p> - -<p>"He is about your height—perhaps a little taller. He—ah—seems to -have a soft tongue and an engaging manner."</p> - -<p>"Oh, has he?" Philip's voice was startlingly grim.</p> - -<p>"He and Cleone were renewing their old friendship."</p> - -<p>"Oh, were they? What old friendship? He was never our friend!"</p> - -<p>"No, I suppose not," said Sir Maurice innocently. "He is some six or -seven years older than you, is he not?"</p> - -<p>"Five!" said Philip emphatically.</p> - -<p>"Only five? Of course, he looks and seems older, but he has seen more -of the world, which accounts for it."</p> - -<p>To this Philip vouchsafed no answer at all, but he looked at his father -with some suspicion. Sir Maurice allowed two or three minutes to elapse -before he spoke again.</p> - -<p>"By the way, Philip, Bancroft dines with us on Wednesday."</p> - -<p>Up sprang Philip in great annoyance.</p> - -<p>"What's that, sir? Dines here, and on Wednesday? Surely you did not -invite the fellow?"</p> - -<p>"But I did," answered Sir Maurice blandly. "Why not?"</p> - -<p>"Why not? What do we want with him?"</p> - -<p>"It remains to be seen." Sir Maurice hid a smile. "Bancroft is most -desirous of meeting you."</p> - -<p>Philip made a sound betwixt a grunt and a snort.</p> - -<p>"More like he wishes to pursue his acquaintance with Cl—Mistress -Cleone," he retorted.</p> - -<p>"Well, she's a pretty piece," said his father.</p> - -<p>Philip glared at him.</p> - -<p>"If I find him annoying Cleone with his damned officious attentions, -I'll—I'll—"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I do not think she is annoyed," replied Sir Maurice.</p> - -<p>At that Philip stalked out of the room, leaving his father a prey to -indecent mirth.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="Four" id="Four"><span class="smcap">Four</span></a><br /> -<span class="smcap">The Trouble Comes to a Head</span></h2> - - -<p>At half-past five on Wednesday Mr. Henry Bancroft was ushered into the -withdrawing-room at the Pride. He was, as he had intended he should be, -the last to arrive.</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice stood in front of the empty grate, talking to Mr. -Charteris; madam sat on a couch, her daughter beside her, and Philip -nearby. They all looked up as Mr. Bancroft was announced, and -Philip rose, for the first time in his life acutely conscious of an -ill-fitting coat and unpowdered hair.</p> - -<p>Mr. Bancroft was a dream of lilac and rose. He might have been dressed -for a ball, thought Cleone. Diamonds and rubies flashed from his -buckles, and from his cravat; a diamond clasp was above the riband that -tied his wig. He minced forward daintily and bowed, one be-ringed hand -over his heart.</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice came forward, very stately in black with touches of purple.</p> - -<p>"Ah, Mr. Bancroft! I need not present you to the ladies, I know." -He paused to allow Bancroft to throw a languishing glance towards -the couch. "I think you and my son are not altogether unknown to one -another?"</p> - -<p>Bancroft turned on his heel to face Philip. He bowed again, slightly -flourishing his handkerchief.</p> - -<p>"My playmate of long ago," he murmured. "Your very obedient, Mr. -Jettan."</p> - -<p>Philip returned the bow awkwardly.</p> - -<p>"I am very pleased to meet you again, sir," he said, determined to be -polite to this most obnoxious guest. "Do you—er—intend to make a long -stay?"</p> - -<p>Bancroft raised his shoulders and spread out his hands.</p> - -<p>"I had thought not, sir, but now"—another glance was cast at -Cleone—"I think—perhaps—!" He smiled, running quick, appraising eyes -over Philip's person. "Do you know, sir, I swear I'd not have known -you. You have grown prodigiously."</p> - -<p>Cleone broke into the conversation.</p> - -<p>"You were so much older than Philip or James or me, Mr. Bancroft!"</p> - -<p>Instantly he swept round.</p> - -<p>"I thank you for the past tense, Mistress Cleone! At least, I am no -longer so aged."</p> - -<p>"Why, sir, have you lost your years?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"In your company, yes, madam. Can you wonder?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I am monstrous flattered, sir!" Cleone spread out her fan and held -it before her face.</p> - -<p>"Not flattered, Mistress Cleone; justly appreciated."</p> - -<p>"La!" said Madam Charteris. "How can you say such things, Mr. Bancroft? -I declare you will make my daughter vain!"</p> - -<p>"Vanity, madam, mates not with such beauty as that of your daughter," -he retaliated. To the right he could see Philip, glowering, and his -mischievous soul laughed. Then Sir Maurice claimed his attention, and -he turned away.</p> - -<p>Philip walked to the couch and stood behind it, resting his arm on the -back. He leaned over Cleone with an air of possession.</p> - -<p>"Pranked out mummer!" he muttered in her ear.</p> - -<p>Cleone smiled up at him.</p> - -<p>"Why, sir, are you at variance with him in the matter of my looks?" she -asked, and thereby bereft him of speech. Her smile turned to a look of -reproach. "'Tis your cue, sir; am I to be slighted?"</p> - -<p>A dull red crept to the roots of Philip's hair. He spoke lower still.</p> - -<p>"You know—what I think of you, Cleone. I cannot—mouth what I feel—in -pretty phrases."</p> - -<p>A strangely tender light came into her eyes.</p> - -<p>"You might try, Philip," she said.</p> - -<p>"What, here? Not I! I am not one to sing your charms in public." He -laughed shortly. "So that is what you desire?"</p> - -<p>The tender light died.</p> - -<p>"No, sir. I desire you will not lean so close. You inconvenience me."</p> - -<p>Philip straightened at once, but he still stood behind her. Bancroft -met his eyes and was quick to read the challenge they held. He smiled, -twirling his eyeglass.</p> - -<p>When dinner was announced, Cleone was talking to Bancroft. It was but -natural that he should offer her his arm, but to Philip it seemed a -most officious, impudent action. Sir Maurice led Madam Charteris into -the dining-room; Mr. Charteris and Philip brought up the rear.</p> - -<p>From Philip's point of view the meal was not a success. Seated side by -side, Cleone and Bancroft exchanged a flood of conversation. Philip, at -the foot of the table, had on his right Mr. Bancroft, and on his left -Mr. Charteris. To the latter he made grave conversation. Occasionally -Bancroft dragged him into a discussion; once or twice Madam Charteris -and Sir Maurice appealed to him. But Cleone seemed unaware of his -existence. She was very gay, too; her eyes sparkled and shone, her -cheeks were faintly flushed. She answered Mr. Bancroft's sallies with -delightful little laughs and applause.</p> - -<p>As the dinner proceeded, Philip was made to feel more than ever his own -shortcomings. When he looked at Mr. Bancroft's white hands with their -highly polished nails, and many rings, he compared them with his strong -brown ones, tanned and—coarse? Covertly he inspected them; no, they -were better hands than that nincompoop's, but his nails ... bah! only -fops such as this puppy polished their nails!...</p> - -<p>The lilac satin of Mr. Bancroft's coat shimmered in the light of the -candles. How tightly it fitted him across the shoulders! How heavily it -was laced, and how full were its skirts! A coat for a drawing-room! -Unconsciously Philip squared his shoulders. All that foaming lace ... -more suited to a woman than to a man. The quizzing-glass ... abominable -affectation! The jewels ... flaunting them in the country! Patched and -painted, mincing, prattling puppy-dog! How could Cleone bear him so -near, with his fat, soft hands, and his person reeking of some sickly -scent?...</p> - -<p>Now he was talking of town and its allure, toying with the names of -first one celebrity and then another. And Cleone drinking in the silly, -smug talk!... Now hints at conquests made—veiled allusions to his own -charms. Ape!—truckling, overdressed ape! Suddenly Philip wanted to -throw his glass at Bancroft. He choked down the mad impulse, and strove -to listen to Mr. Charteris.</p> - -<p>Back in the withdrawing-room again it was worse. Sir Maurice asked -Cleone to sing, and she went to the spinet. Bancroft followed, -to choose her music, to turn the pages, to gaze at her in frank -admiration. Damn him, damn him, damn him!</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The party came to an end at last; Philip was alone with his father. Sir -Maurice leaned his chin in his hand, watching him amusedly. For a long -while Philip said nothing, but presently he brought his eyes away from -the window and looked at his father.</p> - -<p>"And that," he said bitingly, "is what you would have me. A conceited, -painted puppy, fawning and leering on every woman that crosses his -path!"</p> - -<p>"Not at all." Sir Maurice took out his snuff-box and opened it. "'Tis -the last thing in the world I would have you."</p> - -<p>"You said—"</p> - -<p>"I said I would have you a very perfect gentleman, knowing the world -and its ways."</p> - -<p>"Well?—"</p> - -<p>"You perhaps conceive Mr. Bancroft a perfect gentleman?"</p> - -<p>"Not I! 'Tis you who—"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice raised one delicate hand.</p> - -<p>"Pardon me! You choose to assume that I thought it. Mr. Bancroft is, -as you so truly remark, a conceited, painted puppet. But he apes, so -far as he is able, the thing that I am; that I wish you to become. You -are a country-bumpkin, my dear; he is a coddled doll. Strive to become -something betwixt the two."</p> - -<p>"I had sooner be what I am!"</p> - -<p>"Which is a conceited oaf."</p> - -<p>"Sir!"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice rose, leaning on his cane.</p> - -<p>"Remain what you are, my son, but bethink you—which will Cleone -prefer? Him who gives her graceful homage, and charms her ears with -honeyed words, or him who is tongue-tied before her, who is careless of -his appearance, and who treats her, not as a young and beautiful girl, -but as his inevitable possession?"</p> - -<p>Philip answered quickly.</p> - -<p>"Cleone, sir, will—give herself where she pleases, but she is not one -to over-rate the tricks of such as Bancroft."</p> - -<p>"Or to under-rate the discomforts of tying herself to one who is tied -to the soil and his own pleasure," said Sir Maurice softly.</p> - -<p>The grey eyes met his, a trifle hurt.</p> - -<p>"I am selfish, Father? Because I will not become the thing I despise?"</p> - -<p>"And narrow, Philip, to despise what you do not know."</p> - -<p>"Thank you!" The young voice was exceedingly bitter. "I am to be a -painted popinjay! I tell you, sir, Cleone must take me as I am."</p> - -<p>"Or leave you as you are," said Sir Maurice gently.</p> - -<p>"A warning, sir?"</p> - -<p>"That's for you to judge, child. And now I'll to bed." He paused, -looking at his son.</p> - -<p>Philip went to him.</p> - -<p>"Good night, sir."</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice smiled, holding out his hand.</p> - -<p>"Good night, my son."</p> - -<p>Philip kissed his fingers.</p> - -<p>Followed a week of disturbing trivialities. Mr. Bancroft was more often -in Little Fittledean than at home, and most often at Sharley House. -He there met Philip, not once, but many times, hostile and possessive. -He laughed softly, and sought to engage Philip in a war of wits, but -Philip's tongue was stiff and reluctant. So Mr. Bancroft made covert -sport of him and renewed his attentions to Cleone.</p> - -<p>Cleone herself was living in a strange whirl. There was much in Mr. -Bancroft that displeased her; I do not think she ever had it in her -mind to wed him, which was perhaps fortunate, as Mr. Bancroft certainly -had it not in his. But homage is grateful to women, and ardent yet -dainty love-making fascinating to the young. She played with Mr. -Bancroft, but thought no less of Philip. Yet Philip contrived to -irritate her. His air of ownership, his angry, reproachful looks, fired -the spirit of coquetry within her. Mastery thrilled her, but a mastery -that offered to take all, giving nothing, annoyed her. That Philip -loved her to distraction, she knew; also she knew that Philip would -expect her to bend before his will. He would not change, it would be -she who must conform to his pleasure. Philip was determined to remain -as he was, faithful but dull. She wanted all that he despised: life, -gaiety, society, and frivolity. She weighed the question carefully, a -little too carefully for a maid in love. She wanted Philip and she did -not want him. As he was, she would have none of him; as she wished him -to be, he might have her. But for the present she was no man's, and no -man had the right to chide her. Philip had made a mistake in his wooing -in showing her how much his own he thought her. All unwitting, he was -paving the way to his own downfall.</p> - -<p>Despite the lisping conceit of Mr. Bancroft, his polished phrases and -his elegancy when compared with Philip's brusqueness threw Philip -in the shade. Mr. Bancroft could taunt and gibe at Philip, sure of -triumph; Philip tied his tongue in knots and relapsed into silence, -leaving Mr. Bancroft to shine in his victory. The man Cleone chose to -wed must be a match for all, with words or swords. Cleone continued to -smile upon Mr. Bancroft.</p> - -<p>At the end of the week the trouble came to a head. In the garden of -Sharley House, before Cleone, Mr. Bancroft threw veiled taunts at -Philip, and very thinly veiled sneers. He continued to hold the younger -man's lack of polish up to scorn, always smiling and urbane.</p> - -<p>Cleone recognised the gleam in Philip's eye. She was a little -frightened and sought to smooth over the breach. But when she presently -retired to the house, Philip arrested Mr. Bancroft, who was following.</p> - -<p>"A word with you, sir."</p> - -<p>Bancroft turned, brows raised, lips curled almost sneeringly.</p> - -<p>Philip stood very straight, shoulders squared.</p> - -<p>"You have seen fit to mock at me, sir—"</p> - -<p>"I?" interpolated Bancroft languidly. "My dear sir!"</p> - -<p>"—and I resent it. There is that in your manner to which I object."</p> - -<p>Bancroft's brows rose higher.</p> - -<p>"To—which—you—object...." he echoed softly.</p> - -<p>"I trust I make myself clear?" snapped Philip.</p> - -<p>Bancroft raised his eyeglass. Through it he studied Philip from his -toes to his head.</p> - -<p>"Is it possible that you want satisfaction?" he drawled.</p> - -<p>"More than that," retorted Philip. "It is certain."</p> - -<p>Once again he was scrutinised. Mr. Bancroft's smile grew.</p> - -<p>"I do not fight with schoolboys," he said.</p> - -<p>The colour flooded Philip's face.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps because you are afraid," he said quickly, guarding his temper.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps," nodded Bancroft. "Yet I have not the reputation of a coward."</p> - -<p>Swift as a hawk Philip pounced.</p> - -<p>"You have, sir, as I well know, the reputation of a libertine!"</p> - -<p>It was Bancroft's turn to flush.</p> - -<p>"I—beg—your—pardon?"</p> - -<p>"It is necessary," bowed Philip, enjoying himself now for the first -time in many days.</p> - -<p>"You—impudent boy!" gasped Bancroft.</p> - -<p>"I would sooner be that, sir, than an impudent, painted puppy."</p> - -<p>Under his powder Bancroft was fiery red.</p> - -<p>"I see you will have it, Mr. Jettan. I will meet you when and where you -will."</p> - -<p>Philip patted his sword-hilt, and Bancroft observed for the first time -that he was wearing a sword.</p> - -<p>"I have noticed, Mr. Bancroft, that you habitually don your sword. So -I took the precaution of wearing mine. 'When' is now, and 'where' is -yonder!" He pointed above the hedge that encircled the garden to the -copse beyond. It was a very fine theatrical effect, and he was pleased -with it.</p> - -<p>Bancroft sneered at him.</p> - -<p>"A trifle countrified, Mr. Jettan. Do you propose to dispense with such -needless formalities as seconds?"</p> - -<p>"I think we can trust each other," said Philip grandly.</p> - -<p>"Then pray lead the way," bowed Bancroft.</p> - -<p>What followed was not so fine. Bancroft was proficient in the art of -the duello; Philip had never fought in his life. Fencing had never -interested him, and Sir Maurice had long since despaired of teaching -him anything more than the rudiments. However, he was very angry and -very reckless, while Bancroft thought to play with him. He thrust so -wildly and so insanely that Bancroft was taken unawares and received a -fine slash across the arm. After that he fenced more carefully, and in -a very short time pinked Philip neatly and artistically above the elbow -of his sword arm. As Philip's blade wavered and fell, he wiped his own -on his handkerchief, sheathed it, and bowed.</p> - -<p>"Let this be a lesson to you, sir," he said, and walked away before -Philip could pick up his sword.</p> - -<p>Twenty minutes later Philip walked into the hall of Sharley House, a -handkerchief tied tightly round his arm, and asked for Mistress Cleone. -On being told that she was in the parlour, he stalked in upon her.</p> - -<p>Cleone's eyes flew to his crooked arm.</p> - -<p>"Oh!" she cried, and half rose. "What—what have you done? You are -hurt!"</p> - -<p>"It is less than nothing, I thank you," replied Philip. "I want you to -answer me plainly, Cleone. What is that fellow to you?"</p> - -<p>Cleone sat down again. Her eyes flashed; Philip was nearer than ever to -his downfall.</p> - -<p>"I entirely fail to understand you, sir," she answered.</p> - -<p>"Do you love that—that prancing ninny?" asked Philip.</p> - -<p>"I consider such a question an—an impertinence!" cried Cleone. "What -right have you to ask me such a thing?"</p> - -<p>Philip's brows met across the bridge of his nose.</p> - -<p>"You do love him?"</p> - -<p>"No, I don't! I mean—Oh, how dare you?"</p> - -<p>Philip came closer. The frown faded.</p> - -<p>"Cleone—do you—could you—love me?"</p> - -<p>Cleone was silent.</p> - -<p>Closer still came Philip, and spoke rather huskily.</p> - -<p>"Will you—marry me, Cleone?"</p> - -<p>Still silence, but the blue eyes were downcast.</p> - -<p>"Cleone," blundered Philip, "you—don't want a—mincing, -powdered—beau."</p> - -<p>"I do not want a—a—raw—country-bumpkin," she said cruelly.</p> - -<p>Philip drew himself up.</p> - -<p>"That is what you think me, Cleone?"</p> - -<p>Something in his voice brought tears to her eyes.</p> - -<p>"I—no—I—oh, Philip, I <i>could</i> not marry you as you are!"</p> - -<p>"No?" Philip spoke very evenly. "But if I became—your ideal—you could -marry me?"</p> - -<p>"I—oh, you should not—ask such questions!"</p> - -<p>"As I am—you'll none of me. You do not want—an honest man's love. -You want the pretty compliments of a doll. If I will learn to be—a -doll—you'll wed me. Well, I will learn. You shall not be—annoyed—by -an honest man's love—any longer. I will go to London—and one day I'll -return. Farewell, Cleone."</p> - -<p>"Oh—goodness—are you—going to town?" she gasped.</p> - -<p>"Since that is your desire, yes," he answered.</p> - -<p>She held out her hand, and when he kissed it her fingers clung for an -instant.</p> - -<p>"Come back to me, Philip," she whispered.</p> - -<p>He bowed, still holding her hand, and then, without a word, released -it, and marched out, very dignified. It was another fine tragic effect, -but Cleone, when the door closed behind him, broke into an hysterical -laugh. She was rather amazed, and a little apprehensive.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="Five" id="Five"><span class="smcap">Five</span></a><br /> -<span class="smcap">In Which Philip Finds That His Uncle Is More Sympathetic Than His -Father</span></h2> - - -<p>Home went Philip, a prey to conflicting emotions. He was angry with -Cleone, and hurt at what he termed her fickleness, but she was very -lovely, and still wholly desirable. Never until now had he realised -how necessary she was to his happiness. She would not marry him unless -he reformed, learned to behave like Bancroft—that was what she meant. -She did not love him as he was; she wanted polish, and frills and -furbelows. Philip's lips tightened. She should have them—but he was -very, very angry. Then he thought of his father, and the anger grew. -What right had these two to seek to change him into something that was -utterly insincere, trifling, and unmanly? His father would be rejoiced -to hear that he was going "to become a gentleman." Even he had no use -for Philip as he was. Well, they should have what they wanted—and then -perhaps they would be sorry. In a wave of self-pity he considered how -dearly he loved these two people. He wanted neither to change, he loved -them for what they were; but they.... He felt very sore and ill-used. -Something else there was that troubled him. He had set about the task -of punishing Mr. Bancroft, and Mr. Bancroft had ended by punishing -him. No pleasant thought, that. Bancroft was master not only of words -but of swords; he, Philip, was master of neither. He brooded over the -question, chafed and irritable. And so came home to Sir Maurice.</p> - -<p>He found him seated on the terrace, reading Juvenal. Sir Maurice, -glancing up, observed Philip's sling. He said nothing, but his eyes -gleamed an instant.</p> - -<p>Philip threw himself down upon a bench.</p> - -<p>"Well, sir, Bancroft and I have met."</p> - -<p>"I thought it would come," nodded his father.</p> - -<p>"I'm no match for him. He—pinked me with some ease."</p> - -<p>Again Sir Maurice nodded.</p> - -<p>"Also"—Philip spoke with difficulty—"Cleone—will have none of me—as -I am." He looked across at his father with some bitterness. "As you -prophesied, sir, she prefers the attentions of such as Bancroft."</p> - -<p>"And so—?"</p> - -<p>Philip was silent.</p> - -<p>"And so Mr. Jettan withdraws from the lists. Very fine," added Sir -Maurice.</p> - -<p>"Have I said so, sir?" Philip spoke sharply. "Cleone desires a -beau—she shall have one! I have told her that I shall not come to her -until I am what—she thinks—is her desire! I will show her and you -that I am not the dull-witted bumpkin you think me, fit for nothing -better than"—he mimicked his father's tone—"to till the earth! I'll -learn to be the painted fop you'd like to see me! Neither you nor she -shall be offended longer by the sight of me as I am!"</p> - -<p>"Now, here's a heat!" remarked Sir Maurice. "So you'll to London, boy? -To your uncle?"</p> - -<p>Philip shrugged.</p> - -<p>"As well to him as any other. I care not."</p> - -<p>"That's the wrong spirit for your emprise," said Sir Maurice, a laugh -in his eyes. "You must enter into your venture heart and soul."</p> - -<p>Philip flung out his arm.</p> - -<p>"My heart's here, sir, at home!"</p> - -<p>"It's also at Sharley House," said his father dryly, "or why do you go -to London?"</p> - -<p>"Ay, it's there! And I have the felicity of knowing that Cleone cares -not one snap of her fingers for me! She trifles with me, and makes -sport of me for her amusement!"</p> - -<p>"Tra-la-la-la!" said Sir Maurice. "Then why go to London?"</p> - -<p>"To show her that I am not the brainless oaf she thinks me!" answered -Philip, and marched off.</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice returned to Juvenal.</p> - -<p>Not until his arm was healed did Philip set forth to London town. He -parted amicably enough from his father, who gave him much advice, many -introductions, and his blessing. Cleone he did not see at all, but -when he had gone she went up to the Pride and held Sir Maurice's hand -very tightly. She shed a few tears; also she laughed a little. As for -Sir Maurice—well, he chided himself for a sentimental old fool, but -with Philip's departure had come a void which could only be filled by -Philip's return.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Tom was breakfasting when his nephew was announced. It was noon, but -Tom had spent a strenuous night. Philip walked into the room, under the -gloomy eye of Moggat, travel-stained and stiff from the saddle. He was -quite unexpected, but his uncle showed no surprise at seeing him.</p> - -<p>"Well met, Philip, my boy! What's to do now?"</p> - -<p>Philip sank into a chair.</p> - -<p>"I'll tell you when I'm fed," he grinned. "That sirloin pleases my eye."</p> - -<p>"Not an artistic colour," said Tom, studying it, "but appetising, I -grant you."</p> - -<p>"Artistic be damned!" said Philip, attacking it. Then he frowned. "H'm! -No, Tom, 'tis a displeasing blend—red and brown."</p> - -<p>Tom looked at him in surprise.</p> - -<p>"What's colour to you, Philip?"</p> - -<p>"Naught, God help me," answered Philip, and fell to with a will.</p> - -<p>"I echo that sentiment," said Tom. "How does your father?"</p> - -<p>"Well enough; he sends you his love."</p> - -<p>Tom thereupon buried himself in the mass of correspondence that lay by -his plate. When he came to the end, Philip had finished his repast. Tom -pushed back his chair.</p> - -<p>"Well, Philip, what brings you here? Moggat, you rascal, away with you!"</p> - -<p>Philip waited until the door had closed upon Moggat's reluctant back.</p> - -<p>"I've—to learn to be—a gentleman," he said.</p> - -<p>Tom stared at him. Then he burst out laughing.</p> - -<p>"God ha' mercy, Philip, has it come to that?"</p> - -<p>"I do not take your meaning," said Philip crossly.</p> - -<p>"What! It's not a petticoat?"</p> - -<p>"Tom, I'll thank you to—to—be quiet!"</p> - -<p>Tom choked his laughter.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I'm dumb! How do you propose to set about the task?"</p> - -<p>"'Tis what I want to know, Tom."</p> - -<p>"And I'm to teach you?"</p> - -<p>Philip hesitated.</p> - -<p>"Is it perhaps—a thing I can best learn alone?" he asked, surprisingly -diffident.</p> - -<p>"What is it exactly you want to learn?"</p> - -<p>"To become a gentleman. Have I not said it?"</p> - -<p>"Odd rot, what are ye now?"</p> - -<p>Philip's lips curled.</p> - -<p>"I have it on the best authority, Tom, that I am a clumsy, witless -clodhopper."</p> - -<p>His uncle regarded him with some kindliness.</p> - -<p>"Little vixen," he remarked sapiently.</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon?" Philip was cold.</p> - -<p>"Not at all," said Tom hastily. "So Maurice has been at you again, eh? -Now, Philip, lad, come off your pinnacle and be sensible, for God's -sake! What do ye want?"</p> - -<p>"I want, or rather, they—he—wants me to learn how to dress, how to -walk across a room, how to play with words, how to make love to women, -how to bow, how to—"</p> - -<p>"Oh, stop, stop!" cried Tom. "I have the whole picture! And it's no -easy task, my boy. It will take you years to learn."</p> - -<p>"Why, I trust you're pessimistic, sir," said Philip, "for I intend to -acquire all these arts—within a year."</p> - -<p>"Well, I like your spirit," acknowledged Tom. "Take some more ale, lad, -and let me have the whole story."</p> - -<p>This advice Philip saw fit to follow. In a very short time he found -that he had unburdened his sore heart to an astonishingly sympathetic -uncle. Tom forbore to laugh—although now and then he was seized by an -inward paroxysm which he had much ado to choke down. When Philip came -to the end of his recital and stared gloomily across at him, he tapped -his teeth with one polished finger-nail and looked exceeding wise.</p> - -<p>"My opinion is, Philip, that you are the best of all us Jettans, but -that's neither here nor there. Now it seems to me that the folk at home -don't appreciate your sterling qualities—"</p> - -<p>"Oh, 'tis not my qualities they object to! 'Tis my lack of vice."</p> - -<p>"Don't interrupt my peroration, lad. They think you a noble—what was -the word you used?—clodhopper. 'Tis marvellously apt. They doubt your -ability to shine in society. 'Tis for us to prove them to be mistaken. -You must surprise them."</p> - -<p>"I doubt I shall," said Philip, with the glimmering of a smile.</p> - -<p>Tom was wrapped in thought; his eyes ran over his nephew's form -appraisingly.</p> - -<p>"Ye've a fine figure, and good legs. Your hands?"</p> - -<p>Philip extended them, laughing.</p> - -<p>"Um! a little attention, and I'd not wish to see better. Like all the -Jettans, you are passable of countenance, not to say handsome."</p> - -<p>"Am I?" Philip was startled. "I never knew that before!"</p> - -<p>"Then ye know it now. You're the spit of your father in his young days. -Gad, what days they were! Before I grew fat," he added sadly. "But I -wander, I wander. Maurice and the petticoat—what's the girl's name?"</p> - -<p>"I don't see why you should assu—"</p> - -<p>"Don't be a fool, lad! It's that fair chit, eh? Charlotte—no, damn it, -some heathenish name!"</p> - -<p>"Cleone," supplied Philip, submitting.</p> - -<p>"Ay, that's it—Cleone. Well, Maurice and Cleone think that ye'll gain -a little polish and some style. What you must do is excel. Excel!"</p> - -<p>"I doubt I could not," said Philip. "And, indeed, I've no mind to."</p> - -<p>"Then I've done with you." Tom leaned back in his chair with an air of -finality.</p> - -<p>"No, no, Tom! You must help me!"</p> - -<p>A stern eye was fixed on him.</p> - -<p>"Ye must put yourself in my hands, then."</p> - -<p>"Ay, but—"</p> - -<p>"Completely," said Tom inexorably.</p> - -<p>Philip collapsed.</p> - -<p>"Oh, very well!"</p> - -<p>The round, good-tempered face lost its unaccustomed severity. Tom was -again wrapped in thought.</p> - -<p>"Paris," he said at length, to the bewilderment of his nephew. "You -must go there," he explained.</p> - -<p>Philip was horrified.</p> - -<p>"What! I? To Paris? Never!"</p> - -<p>"Then I wash my—"</p> - -<p>"But, Tom, consider! I know so little French!"</p> - -<p>"The more reason."</p> - -<p>"But—but—damn it, I say I will not!"</p> - -<p>Tom yawned.</p> - -<p>"As ye will."</p> - -<p>Philip became more and more unhappy.</p> - -<p>"Why should I go to Paris?" he growled.</p> - -<p>"You're like a surly bear," reproved Tom. "Where else would you go?"</p> - -<p>"Can't I—surely I can learn all I want here?"</p> - -<p>"Ay, and have all your friends nudging each other as you transform from -what you are to what you are to become!"</p> - -<p>Philip had not thought of that. He relapsed into sulky silence.</p> - -<p>"To Paris," resumed Tom, "within the week. Luckily, you've more money -than is good for you. You've no need to pinch and scrape. I'll take -you, clothe you, and introduce you."</p> - -<p>Philip brightened.</p> - -<p>"Will you? That's devilish good of you, Tom!"</p> - -<p>"It is," agreed Tom. "But I dare swear I'll find entertainment there." -He chuckled. "And not a word to your father or to anyone. You'll -vanish, and when you reappear no one will know you."</p> - -<p>This dazzling prospect did not appear to allure Philip. He sighed -heavily.</p> - -<p>"I suppose I must do it. But—" He rose and walked to the window. -"It's all that I despise and that I detest. Mere love—does not -suffice. Well, we shall see." He thrust his hands deep in his pockets. -"The thing they want me to be is neither noble nor estimable. -They—he—they—don't care what may be a man's reputation or his -character! He must speak them softly, and charm their ears with silly -compliments, and their eyes with pretty silks and satins. Naught else -is of consequence. Faugh!"</p> - -<p>"Ay, you're taking it hard," nodded his uncle. "But they're all the -same, lad—bless 'em!"</p> - -<p>"I thought—this one—was different."</p> - -<p>"More fool you," said Tom cynically.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="Six" id="Six"><span class="smcap">Six</span></a><br /> -<span class="smcap">The Beginning of the Transformation</span></h2> - - -<p>Philip stood in the middle of the floor, expostulating. A sleek valet -was kneeling before him, coaxing his gold-clocked stockings over the -knee of his small-clothes, and a middle-aged exquisite was arranging -his Mechlin cravat for the seventh time, a frown crinkling his -forehead, and French oaths proceeding from his tinted lips. Mr. Thomas -Jettan was giving the nails of Philip's right hand a last, lingering -polish. And Philip, supremely miserable, expostulated in vain.</p> - -<p>François sat back on his heels and eyed Philip's legs adoringly.</p> - -<p>"But of an excellence, m'sieur! So perfect a calf, m'sieur! So vairy -fine a laig," he explained in English.</p> - -<p>Philip tried to squint down at them, and was rewarded by an impatient -exclamation from the gentleman who was wrestling with his cravat.</p> - -<p>"<i>Tais—toi, imbécile!</i> 'Ow is it zat I shall arrange your cravat if -you tweest and turn like zis? Lift your chin, Philippe!"</p> - -<p>"<i>Mais, monsieur, je—je—cela me donne—mal au cou.</i>"</p> - -<p>"<i>Il faut souffrir pour être bel</i>," replied the Marquis severely.</p> - -<p>"So it seems," said Philip irritably. "Tom, for God's sake, have done!"</p> - -<p>His uncle chuckled.</p> - -<p>"I've finished, never fear. Jean, that is wonderful!"</p> - -<p>Le Marquis de Château-Banvau stepped back to view his handiwork.</p> - -<p>"I am not altogether satisfied," he said musingly.</p> - -<p>Philip warded him off.</p> - -<p>"No, no, m'sieur! I am sure it is perfection!"</p> - -<p>The Marquis disregarded him. Once more his nimble fingers busied -themselves amongst the folds of soft lace. His eyes gleamed suddenly.</p> - -<p>"It is well! François, the sapphire pin! Quickly!"</p> - -<p>The valet held it out. He and Tom watched anxiously as the Marquis' -hand hovered, uncertain. Philip felt that this was a supreme moment; he -held his breath. Then the pin was fixed with one unerring movement, and -the two onlookers drew deep breaths of relief.</p> - -<p>The Marquis nodded.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Tom, you are right. It is a triumph. Sit down, Philippe."</p> - -<p>Philip sank into a chair by the dressing-table.</p> - -<p>"What now? Have you nearly finished?"</p> - -<p>"Now the rouge. François, haste!"</p> - -<p>Philip tried to rebel.</p> - -<p>"I will not be painted and powdered!"</p> - -<p>The Marquis fixed him with a cold eye.</p> - -<p>"<i>Plaît—il?</i>"</p> - -<p>"M'sieur—I—I will not!"</p> - -<p>"Philippe—if it were not for the love I bear your papa, I would leave -you zis minute. You will do as I say, <i>hein</i>?"</p> - -<p>"But, m'sieur, can I not go without paint?"</p> - -<p>"You can not."</p> - -<p>Philip smiled ruefully.</p> - -<p>"Then do your worst!"</p> - -<p>"It is not my worst, <i>ingrat</i>. It is my best!"</p> - -<p>"Your best, then. I am really very grateful, sir."</p> - -<p>The Marquis' lips twitched. He signed to François.</p> - -<p>Under his deft hands Philip squirmed and screwed up his face. He -complained that the haresfoot tickled him, and he winced when the -Marquis pressed two patches on his face. When François dusted his -cheeks with powder he sneezed, and when a single sapphire ear-ring was -placed in his left ear he scowled and muttered direfully.</p> - -<p>But the supreme torture was to come. He discovered that it required the -united energies of the three men to coax him into his coat. When at -last it was on he assured them it would split across the shoulders if -he so much as moved a finger.</p> - -<p>The Marquis found him <i>fort amusant</i>, but troublesome.</p> - -<p>"Forget it, little fool!"</p> - -<p>"Forget it?" cried Philip. "How can I forget it when it prevents my -moving?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Quelle absurdité!</i> The sword, Tom!"</p> - -<p>"How can I dance in a sword?" protested Philip.</p> - -<p>"It is <i>de rigueur</i>," said the Marquis.</p> - -<p>Philip fingered the jewelled hilt.</p> - -<p>"A pretty plaything," he said. "I have never spent so much money on -fripperies before."</p> - -<p>François arranged the full skirts of his coat about the sword, and Tom -slipped rings on to Philip's fingers. A point-edged hat was put into -his hand, an enamelled snuff-box, and a handkerchief.</p> - -<p>Thomas looked at the Marquis, the Marquis nodded complacently. He led -Philip to a long glass.</p> - -<p>"Well, my friend?"</p> - -<p>But Philip said never a word. He stared and stared again at his -reflection. He could not believe that it was himself. He saw a -tall, slight figure dressed in a pale blue satin coat, and white -small-clothes, flowered waistcoat, and gold-clocked stockings. High -red-heeled shoes, diamond-buckled, were on his feet, lace foamed over -his hands and at his neck, while a white wig, marvellously curled and -powdered, replaced his shorn locks. Unconsciously he drew himself up, -tilting his chin a little, and shook out his handkerchief.</p> - -<p>"Well!" The Marquis grew impatient. "You have nothing to say?"</p> - -<p>Philip turned.</p> - -<p>"<i>C'est merveilleux!</i>" he breathed.</p> - -<p>The Marquis beamed, but he shook his head.</p> - -<p>"In time, yes. At present, a thousand times no! <i>C'est gauche, c'est -impossible!</i>"</p> - -<p>Unwontedly humble, Philip begged to be made less <i>gauche</i>.</p> - -<p>"It is my intention," said the Marquis. "A month or so and I shall be -proud of my pupil."</p> - -<p>"Faith, I'm proud of ye now!" cried Tom. "Why, lad, you'll be more -modish than ever Maurice was!"</p> - -<p>Philip flushed beneath his powder. A ruby on his finger caught his eye. -He regarded it for a moment, frowning, then he took it off.</p> - -<p>"Oh?" queried the Marquis. "Why?"</p> - -<p>"I don't like it."</p> - -<p>"You don't like it? Why not?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. I'll only wear sapphires and diamonds."</p> - -<p>"By heaven, the boy's right!" exclaimed Tom. "He should be all blue!"</p> - -<p>"In a month—two months—I shall present you at Versailles," decided -the Marquis. "François, remove that abominable ruby. And now—<i>en -avant</i>!"</p> - -<p>And so went Philip to his first ball.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>At the end of the month Tom went home to London, having set his -nephew's feet on the path he was to tread. He left him in charge of M. -de Château-Banvau, who had by now developed a lively interest in him.</p> - -<p>After that first ball Philip threw off the last shreds of rebellion; he -played his part well, and he became very busy. Every morning he fenced -with an expert until he had acquired some skill with a small-sword; -he spoke nothing but French from morn to night; he permitted the -Marquis to introduce him into society; he strove to loosen his tongue, -and he paid flippant court to several damsels who ogled him for his -fine appearance, until his light conversation grew less forced and -uncomfortable. For a while he took no interest in his tailoring, -allowing Tom or François to garb him as they pleased. But one day, when -François extended a pair of cream stockings to his gaze, he eyed them -through his quizzing-glass for a long moment. Then he waved them aside.</p> - -<p>François was hurt; he liked those stockings. Would not M'sieur consider -them? M'sieur most emphatically would not. If François admired pink -clocks on a cream ground, let him take the stockings. M'sieur would not -wear them; they offended him.</p> - -<p>Before very long "le jeune Anglais" was looked for and welcomed. Ladies -liked him for his firm chin, and his palpable manliness; men liked -him for his modesty and his money. He was invited to routs and <i>bals -masqués</i>, and to card-parties and <i>soirées</i>. Philip began to enjoy -himself; he was tasting the delights of popularity. Bit by bit he grew -to expect invitations from these new acquaintances. But still M. le -Marquis was dissatisfied. It was all very well, but not well enough for -him.</p> - -<p>However, it was quite well enough for Thomas, and he departed, -chuckling and elated. He left Philip debating over two wigs and the -arrangement of his jewels.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Hardly a fortnight later Philip made secure his position in Polite -Society by fighting a duel with a jealous husband. Lest you should be -shocked at this sudden depravity, I will tell you that there was little -enough cause for fighting, as Philip considered the lady as he might -consider an aunt. Happily she was unaware of this. Philip's friends -did not hold back; he had no difficulty in finding seconds, and the -<i>affaire</i> ended in a neat thrust which pinked the husband, and a fresh -wave of popularity for Philip.</p> - -<p>The Marquis told his pupil that he was a gay dog, and was met by a -chilling stare.</p> - -<p>"I—beg—your pardon?" said Philip stiffly.</p> - -<p>"But what a modesty!" cried the Marquis, much amused.</p> - -<p>"Is it conceivable that you think me attracted by the smiles of Madame -de Foli-Martin?"</p> - -<p>"But yes! Of course I think it!"</p> - -<p>"Permit me to enlighten you," said Philip. "My affections are with a -lady—at home."</p> - -<p>"Oh, la, la!" deplored the Marquis. "A lady of the country? A simple -country wench?"</p> - -<p>"I thank God, yes," said Philip. He depressed his friend, who had hoped -for better things of him. But he thought it wiser to change the subject.</p> - -<p>"Philip, I will take you to Court."</p> - -<p>Philip crossed one elegantly breeched leg over the other. He was, if -anything, a little bored.</p> - -<p>"Yes? Next week, perhaps? I am very much engaged until then."</p> - -<p>The shrewd eyes twinkled.</p> - -<p>"The manner is excellent, my friend. You will like to make your bow to -the King."</p> - -<p>Philip shrugged.</p> - -<p>"Certainly. I trust the King will consider himself sufficiently -honoured."</p> - -<p>"<i>Sans doute</i>," bowed the Marquis. "But I counsel you, slayer of -hearts, to cast your eyes away from la Pompadour."</p> - -<p>"M'sieur, I have already told you—"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes. But you have now the name for—slaying of hearts."</p> - -<p>Philip dropped his affectation.</p> - -<p>"Good gad! Do you say so, sir? I?"</p> - -<p>"It is very fashionable," said the Marquis mischievously. "You become a -figure."</p> - -<p>"But I—" He checked himself, and relapsed into languor. "They fatigue -me." And he yawned.</p> - -<p>"What! Even la Salévier?"</p> - -<p>"The woman with the enormous wig—oh—ah! She is well enough, but -<i>passée, mon cher Marquis, passée</i>!"</p> - -<p>"<i>Sangdieu</i>, you are fastidious of a sudden! Is the little country chit -so lovely?"</p> - -<p>"Your pardon, Marquis, but I prefer to leave that lady's name out of -this or any discussion."</p> - -<p>"Or I shall have a small-sword through my heart, <i>hein</i>?"</p> - -<p>Philip smiled.</p> - -<p>"That is absurd, sir."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>That night he gave a card-party. The play was high and the bottles -numerous. He lost some money, won a little, and was put to bed by his -valet long after dawn. He awoke later with a splitting headache, but he -considered himself a man. That was in September.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="Seven" id="Seven"><span class="smcap">Seven</span></a><br /> -<span class="smcap">Mr. Bancroft Comes to Paris and Is Annoyed</span></h2> - - -<p>In February came Mr. Bancroft to Paris. Philip's departure from Little -Fittledean had been closely followed by his own, for he found that -Cleone no longer smiled. Also, the spice of wooing her was gone when -there was no jealous lover to flout. He waited until his <i>affaire</i> had -blown over, and then he went back to London. Now, very blasé, he came -to Paris in search of new pastimes.</p> - -<p>It was not long before he met Philip. And the manner of the meeting -was delightfully sensational. Under the auspices of his friend, M. de -Chambert, he attended a rout at the hotel of the Duchesse de Maugry. -He was presented to one Mademoiselle de Chaucheron, a sprightly little -lady, with roguish black eyes. Mr. Bancroft was content to form one of -the small court she held. Several old acquaintances he met, for he was -not unknown in Paris.</p> - -<p>Conversation flourished for some time. But suddenly Mademoiselle cried -out, clapping her hands:</p> - -<p>"<i>Le voilà, notre petit Philippe! Eh bien, petit Anglais?</i>"</p> - -<p>A slight gentleman in peach-coloured satin, powdered, painted, -perfumed, came quickly through the group and went down on one knee -before her.</p> - -<p>"At thy most exquisite feet, my lady!"</p> - -<p>Delighted, she gave him her hand to kiss.</p> - -<p>"And where have you been this long while, <i>vaurien</i>?"</p> - -<p>Philip kissed the tips of her fingers, one by one.</p> - -<p>"Languishing in outer darkness, <i>chérie</i>."</p> - -<p>"The darkness of the Court!" laughed the Comte de Saint-Dantin. -"Philippe, I know you for a rogue and a trifler!"</p> - -<p>Philip looked up, still holding Mademoiselle's hand.</p> - -<p>"Someone has maligned me. Of what am I accused?"</p> - -<p>Mademoiselle rapped his knuckles with her fan.</p> - -<p>"<i>Voyons!</i> Have you finished with my hand?"</p> - -<p>Instantly he turned back to her.</p> - -<p>"I have lost count! Now I must begin again. One moment, Comte, I am -much occupied!" Gravely he kissed each rosy finger a second time. "And -one for the lovely whole. <i>Voilà!</i>"</p> - -<p>"You are indeed a rogue," she told him. "For you care—not one jot!"</p> - -<p>"If that were true I were a rogue beyond reprieve," he answered gaily.</p> - -<p>"You don't deceive me, <i>le petit Philippe</i>!... So sweet, so amiable, so -great a flatterer—with no heart to lose!"</p> - -<p>"Rumour hath it that 'tis already lost," smiled De Bergeret. "Eh, -Philippe?"</p> - -<p>"Lost an hundred times," mourned Philip, "and retrieved never!"</p> - -<p>"Oh!" Mademoiselle started back in mock-anger. "Wretch that thou art, -and so fickle! Rise! I'll no more of you!"</p> - -<p>"Alack!" Philip came to his feet, and dusted his knee with his -handkerchief. "I give you thanks, <i>mignonne</i>, 'twas very hard."</p> - -<p>"But you do not say! How is she, la Pompadour?" cried De Salmy.</p> - -<p>Philip pressed a hand to his forehead.</p> - -<p>"La Pompadour? I do not know; I have forgotten. She has blue eyes, not -black."</p> - -<p>Mademoiselle promptly hid behind her fan.</p> - -<p>Mr. Bancroft was staring at Philip as one in a trance. At that moment -Philip looked his way. The grey eyes held no recognition and passed on.</p> - -<p>"Good heavens!" exclaimed Bancroft. '"Tis never Mr. Jettan?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Que lui dit-il?</i>" asked Mademoiselle, for Bancroft had spoken in -English.</p> - -<p>Philip bowed distantly.</p> - -<p>"M'sieur?"</p> - -<p>"You've not forgotten me? Bancroft?"</p> - -<p>"Ah—Mr. Bancroft! I remember. Your servant, sir." He bowed again.</p> - -<p>"Gad, I could scarce credit mine eyes! <i>Nom de Dieu!</i>"</p> - -<p>"Aha, that I understand!" said Mademoiselle relievedly. "It is one of -your friends, Philippe?" She smiled upon Mr. Bancroft with more warmth, -and extended her hand. "<i>L'ami de Philippe</i>—ah, but you should have -said!"</p> - -<p>Mr. Bancroft was not elated at being classed as Philip's friend, but he -bowed over Mademoiselle's hand with a good grace.</p> - -<p>"I had no notion of finding him here, mademoiselle. The last time we -met was—in a wood."</p> - -<p>"Tell!" besought the lady.</p> - -<p>Philip threw out his hands.</p> - -<p>"Ah, no, <i>chérie</i>! That meeting was so disastrous to my vanity!"</p> - -<p>"<i>Raison de plus</i>," decided Mademoiselle. "Tell me about it!"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Bancroft and I had some slight difference in opinion which we -settled in a wood. I was very easily worsted."</p> - -<p>"<i>You?</i>" cried Mademoiselle. "Impossible!"</p> - -<p>"On the contrary, <i>bien aimée</i>; I was, in those days, a very sorry -spectacle, was I not, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Not so long since," said Mr. Bancroft.</p> - -<p>"Six months," nodded Philip, and turned to speak to the Comte de -Saint-Dantin.</p> - -<p>Mademoiselle was still incredulous.</p> - -<p>"A sorry spectacle? Philippe?"</p> - -<p>"I scent an intrigue," said a little Vicomte. "Clothilde, make him -tell!"</p> - -<p>"Of course," she said. "Philippe!"</p> - -<p>Philip swung neatly round to face her.</p> - -<p>"<i>Chère Clothilde?</i>"</p> - -<p>"Come here! I want you to tell me what you mean by a sorry spectacle. -If you refuse—<i>bien</i>! I shall ask Mr. Bancroft!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I'll give away no man's secrets!" simpered Bancroft.</p> - -<p>Philip raised his eyeglass. He observed Mr. Bancroft dispassionately. -Then he shrugged, and turned back to Clothilde.</p> - -<p>"<i>Petite ange</i>, it's a sad tale. Six months ago I lived in the country, -and I was a very churlish bumpkin. Then I was made to see the folly of -my ways, and now—<i>me voici</i>!"</p> - -<p>"I said that I scented an intrigue," said the Vicomte tranquilly.</p> - -<p>"But wait, wait! <i>You</i> in the country, Philippe? You jest!"</p> - -<p>"On my honour, no, <i>chérie</i>! I came to Paris to learn the ways of -Polite Society."</p> - -<p>"Six months ago?" De Bergeret was astonished. "It is your first visit? -You learned all this in so short a time?"</p> - -<p>"I have a natural aptitude," smiled Philip. "Now are you satisfied?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Je n'en reviendrai jamais!</i>" Mademoiselle spoke emphatically. -"<i>Jamais, jamais, jamais!</i>"</p> - -<p>"I am not at all satisfied."</p> - -<p>Philip cocked one eyebrow at the dainty Vicomte.</p> - -<p>"What more would you have?"</p> - -<p>"I would know of what like she is."</p> - -<p>"She?"</p> - -<p>"The lady to whom your heart is lost."</p> - -<p>"That's an hundred she's," replied Philip airily. "And they are all -different!"</p> - -<p>"I dare swear I could enlighten M. de Ravel," drawled Bancroft.</p> - -<p>All eyes turned his way. Philip seated himself beside Mademoiselle. He -was smiling faintly.</p> - -<p>"Proceed, <i>mon ami</i>. Who is this lady that I have forgotten?"</p> - -<p>"Forgotten? Oh, come now, Jettan!"</p> - -<p>Philip played with Clothilde's fan; he was still smiling, but the -bright grey eyes that met Bancroft's held a challenge.</p> - -<p>"If it transpired, m'sieur, that I had not forgotten it is possible -that I might resent any liberties you or others thought to take with -that lady's name," he said softly.</p> - -<p>There was a sudden silence. No one could mistake the menacing note in -Philip's smooth voice. Saint-Dantin made haste to fill the breach.</p> - -<p>"The little Philippe is ready to fight us all, but it cannot be -permitted. We'll not plague him, for he is very devilish when he is -roused, I assure you!" He laughed easily and offered Bancroft snuff.</p> - -<p>"He is very fastidious," sneered Bancroft.</p> - -<p>M. le Comte closed his snuff-box and stepped back. He became politely -bored.</p> - -<p>"The subject grows somewhat tedious, I think. Mademoiselle, will you -dance?"</p> - -<p>Bancroft flushed. Mademoiselle sprang up.</p> - -<p>"I am promised to Jules!" She nodded, smiling, to De Bergeret. Together -they walked away from the little group.</p> - -<p>Saint-Dantin linked arms with Philip.</p> - -<p>"Come with me to the card-room, Philippe. Unless you wish to lead out -la Salévier?" He nodded to where an opulent beauty stood.</p> - -<p>"It's too fatiguing," said Philip. "I'll come."</p> - -<p>"Who is he, the ill-disposed gentleman in pink?" inquired the Comte, -when they were out of earshot.</p> - -<p>"A creature of no importance," shrugged Philip.</p> - -<p>"So I see. Yet he contrives to arouse your anger?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," admitted Philip. "I do not like the colour of his coat."</p> - -<p>"You may call upon me," said Saint-Dantin at once. "I do not like -anything about him. He was here before—last year. His conversation -lacks <i>finesse</i>. He is tolerated in London, <i>hein</i>?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. I trust not."</p> - -<p>"<i>Hé, hé!</i> So he interfered between you and the lady?"</p> - -<p>Philip withdrew his arm.</p> - -<p>"Saint-Dantin!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, yes, I know! We all know that in the background lurks—a -lady! Else why your so chaste and cold demeanour?"</p> - -<p>"Am I cold?"</p> - -<p>"At the bottom, yes. Is it not so?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly it is so. It's unfashionable to possess a heart."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Philippe, thou art a rogue."</p> - -<p>"So I have been told. Presumably because I am innocent of the slightest -indiscretion. Curious. No one dubs you rogue who so fully merit the -title. But I, whose reputation is spotless, am necessarily a wicked one -and a deceiver. I shall write a sonnet on the subject."</p> - -<p>"Ah, no!" begged Saint-Dantin in alarm. "Your sonnets are vile, -Philippe! So let us have no more verse from you, I pray! All else you -can do, but, <i>sacré nom de Dieu</i>, your verse—!"</p> - -<p>"Alas!" sighed Philip, "'tis my only ambition. I shall persevere."</p> - -<p>Saint-Dantin paused, a hand on the curtain that shut off the card-room.</p> - -<p>"Your only ambition, Philippe?"</p> - -<p>"For the moment," answered Philip sweetly. "All things pall on one -after a time."</p> - -<p>"Save the greatest ambition?" Saint-Dantin's eyes were purely -mischievous.</p> - -<p>"You are as inquisitive as a monkey," said Philip, and propelled him -into the card-room.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"For how long has that fellow lorded it here?" asked Bancroft of his -friend.</p> - -<p>M. de Chambert flicked one great cuff with his handkerchief.</p> - -<p>"Oh, some months! He is refreshing, is it not so? So young, so lovable."</p> - -<p>"Lovable be damned!" said Bancroft.</p> - -<p>De Chambert looked at him in surprise.</p> - -<p>"You don't like our little Philippe?"</p> - -<p>"No, I do not. Conceited young upstart!"</p> - -<p>"Con—ah, but no! You misunderstand him! He pretends, and it is very -amusing, but he is not conceited; he is just a <i>bébé</i>."</p> - -<p>"Damn it, is he everyone's pet?"</p> - -<p>"<i>C'est le dernier cri de Paris.</i> There are some who are jealous, -naturally, but all who know him like him too much to be jealous."</p> - -<p>"Jealous!" Bancroft snorted. "Jealous of that sprig!"</p> - -<p>De Chambert cast him a shrewd glance.</p> - -<p>"A word in your ear, m'sieu'! Do not speak your dislike too widely. <i>Le -petit Philippe</i> has powerful friends. You will be frowned upon if you -sneer at him."</p> - -<p>Bancroft struggled for words.</p> - -<p>"I'll—not conceal from you, De Chambert, that I've a grudge against -your little Philippe. I punished him once before for impudence."</p> - -<p>"Aha? I don't think you were well advised to do so again. He would -have no lack of friends, and with a small-sword he is a veritable -devil. It would not be wise to show your enmity, for you will meet him -everywhere, and he is the ladies' darling. That says much, <i>hein</i>?"</p> - -<p>"And when I saw him last," spluttered Bancroft, "he was clad in a coat -I'd not give a lackey, and had as much conversation as a scarecrow!"</p> - -<p>"Yes? I heard some talk of that. He is a marvel, our Philippe."</p> - -<p>"Curse all marvels!" said Bancroft fervently.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="Eight" id="Eight"><span class="smcap">Eight</span></a><br /> -<span class="smcap">In Which Philip Delivers Himself of a Rondeau</span></h2> - - -<p>M. Le Comte De Saint-Dantin gave a select dinner and card-party some -few weeks after the coming of Mr. Bancroft. Only his chosen intimates -were invited, and amongst them was Philip. At half-past five all the -guests, save one, were assembled in the library, and Saint-Dantin was -comparing his chronometer with the clock on the mantelpiece.</p> - -<p>"Now what comes to Philippe?" he inquired of no one in particular. -"Where is the child?"</p> - -<p>"He was at the ball last night," said M. de Chatelin, smoothing his -ruffles. "He left early and in great haste." He raised his eyes -and they were twinkling. "The pearl that hung from Mademoiselle de -Marcherand's right ear inspired him and he fled."</p> - -<p>"Fled? Why?"</p> - -<p>"I believe, to compose a ballade in its honour."</p> - -<p>Saint-Dantin flung up his hands.</p> - -<p>"May the devil fly away with Philippe and his verse! I dare swear it's -that that keeps him now."</p> - -<p>Paul de Vangrisse turned his head.</p> - -<p>"Do you speak of Philippe? I thought I heard his name?"</p> - -<p>"But yes! Henri declares he is possessed of an inspiration for a -ballade to Julie de Marcherand's pearl."</p> - -<p>De Vangrisse came towards them, stiff silks rustling.</p> - -<p>"Alas, it is too true. I visited him this morning and found him <i>en -déshabillé</i>, clasping his brow. He seized on me and demanded a rhyme to -some word which I have forgot. So I left him."</p> - -<p>"Can no one convince Philippe that he is not a poet?" asked De Bergeret -plaintively.</p> - -<p>De Vangrisse shook his head.</p> - -<p>"One may tell him that he is no swordsman, and no true <i>cavalier</i>; one -may decry all his graces and he will laugh with one; but one may not -say that he will never be a poet. He will not believe it."</p> - -<p>"Oh, he believes it, <i>au fond</i>," answered Saint-Dantin. "It amuses him -to pretend. Ah, here he is!"</p> - -<p>Into the room came Philip, a vision in shades of yellow. He carried a -rolled sheet of parchment, tied with an amber ribbon. He walked with -a spring, and his eyes sparkled with pure merriment. He waved the -parchment roll triumphantly.</p> - -<p>Saint-Dantin went forward to greet him.</p> - -<p>"But of a lateness, Philippe," he cried, holding out his hands.</p> - -<p>"A thousand pardons, Louis! I was consumed of a rondeau until an hour -ago."</p> - -<p>"A rondeau?" said De Vangrisse. "This morning it was a ballade!"</p> - -<p>"This morning? Bah! That was a year ago. Since then it has been a -sonnet!"</p> - -<p>"<i>A Dieu ne plaise!</i>" exclaimed Saint-Dantin devoutly.</p> - -<p>"Of course," agreed Philip. "The theme demanded a rondeau. At three -this afternoon I discovered that it was so. Did you come to see me this -morning, Paul?"</p> - -<p>"You asked me for a rhyme," De Vangrisse reminded him.</p> - -<p>"So I did! A rhyme for <i>tout</i> and <i>fou</i>, and you gave me <i>chou</i>!"</p> - -<p>"Whereupon you threw your wig at me, and I fled."</p> - -<p>"<i>Chou!</i>" repeated Philip with awful scorn. "<i>Chou!</i>"</p> - -<p>Gently but firmly Saint-Dantin took the parchment from him.</p> - -<p>"You shall read it to us later," he promised. "But now you will dine."</p> - -<p>"It goes well before meat," pleaded Philip.</p> - -<p>He was answered by ribald protests.</p> - -<p>"I'll not listen to your verse on an empty stomach," declared the -Vicomte. "Belike I shall appreciate it when in my cups."</p> - -<p>"You have no soul," said Philip sadly.</p> - -<p>"But I have a stomach, <i>petit Anglais</i>, and it cries aloud for -sustenance."</p> - -<p>"I weep for you," said Philip. "Why do I waste my poetic gems upon you?"</p> - -<p>Saint-Dantin took him by the elbow and led him to the door.</p> - -<p>"<i>Parbleu</i>, Philippe, it's what we wish to know. You shall expound to -us at dinner."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Midway through the meal the Vicomte remembered something. He nodded -across the table to Philip, who was engaged in a lively and witty -argument with De Bergeret.</p> - -<p>"<i>A propos</i>, Philippe. Your so dear friend has been talking about you!"</p> - -<p>"Which so dear friend?" asked Philip. "Jules, if you maintain in the -face of my exposition that Jeanne de Fontenay can rival la Salévier in -the matter of—"</p> - -<p>"But attend!" insisted the Vicomte. "The Englishman—the -Bancroft—<i>peste</i>, what a name for my tongue!"</p> - -<p>Philip broke off in the middle of his discourse. His eyes gleamed in -the candlelight.</p> - -<p>"Bancroft? What does he say of me?"</p> - -<p>"A great deal, if all I hear is true."</p> - -<p>Philip set down his glass.</p> - -<p>"Indeed! Now, what might you have heard, De Ravel?"</p> - -<p>"It would appear that <i>ce cher</i> Bancroft feels no love for you, <i>mon -pauvre</i>. If De Graune is to be believed, he resents your presence here. -He says he has been deceived in you. It is all very sad."</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Philip. He frowned. "Very sad. But what does he say?"</p> - -<p>"He divulges your close-guarded secret," said the Vicomte solemnly.</p> - -<p>"Oh!" Philip turned in his chair and leaned his elbows on the table. -"It is possible that I shall have a word to say to M. Bancroft. -Continue, Charles!"</p> - -<p>"He speaks of a lady in 'Leetle Feeteldean' who has blue, blue eyes, -and—"</p> - -<p>"Shall we pass over her eyes?" smiled Philip.</p> - -<p>"But certainly! Her hair—"</p> - -<p>"And her hair? In fact, shall we pass over all her attractions?"</p> - -<p>"He is very much in love," loudly whispered De Bergeret.</p> - -<p>Philip flashed a smile at him.</p> - -<p>"Very much, Jules. Proceed, Vicomte."</p> - -<p>The Vicomte sipped his wine.</p> - -<p>"M. Bancroft, he told of your—ah—infatuation. He described the -lady—oh, fully!"</p> - -<p>The thin lips were growing into a straight, smiling line, tightly -compressed. Philip nodded.</p> - -<p>"<i>Allons! Allons!</i>"</p> - -<p>"Vicomte, does the gossip of the gaming-halls amuse you?" asked -Saint-Dantin sharply.</p> - -<p>But the Vicomte was a mischief-loving soul. He disregarded the rebuke.</p> - -<p>"A pretty piece, he called her, but no more than a simple country -wench. By name—"</p> - -<p>"Oh, have done!" exclaimed Saint-Dantin impatiently.</p> - -<p>"But no!" Philip waved him aside. "I am very interested in what M'sieur -has to say."</p> - -<p>"By name, Cleone. We have it from M. Bancroft that she falls in love -with him for his <i>beaux yeux</i> and his so charming manner."</p> - -<p>"Ah!" Philip's chin sank into his cupped palms. "<i>Et puis?</i>"</p> - -<p>"It is further recorded that one M. Philippe Jettan importuned her with -his clumsy attentions, so that M. Bancroft was compelled to teach this -M. Philippe a sharp lesson. And when one asks, 'What of the pretty -Cleone?' he shrugs his shoulders and replies, very superbly, that he -wearied of her as of all others."</p> - -<p>Saint-Dantin's crisp voice cut into the sudden silence.</p> - -<p>"Philippe, fill your glass. Paul here tells me of a pass he conceived -in his duel with Mardry last month. A—"</p> - -<p>"I will ask Paul to show me that pass," said Philip. He leaned back -in his chair and laughed softly. A moment later he had resumed his -interrupted discussion with De Bergeret.</p> - -<p>Afterwards Saint-Dantin took him aside.</p> - -<p>"Philippe, I would not have had that happen at my table! Charles is -incorrigible!"</p> - -<p>"On the contrary, I am grateful to him," replied Philip. "I might not -have heard else. Now I will shut that fellow's mouth."</p> - -<p>"How?" asked Saint-Dantin blankly.</p> - -<p>Philip made an imaginary pass in the air.</p> - -<p>"Short of killing him," objected Saint-Dantin, "I don't see—"</p> - -<p>"Kill him? Not I! I may count on you to—uphold me?"</p> - -<p>"Of course. But what do you mean to do?"</p> - -<p>"First I will reverse the tables. I will punish him. Then I will assure -him that my friends will espouse my cause if he again mentions my -lady's name in public."</p> - -<p>Saint-Dantin nodded.</p> - -<p>"I'll vouch for those here to-night."</p> - -<p>"Wait! Any mention of her name will be reported to me, and I shall send -François to administer a little beating. It is well."</p> - -<p>The Comte laughed outright.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Philippe, thou art a young hot-head! Is this Cleone of so great -account?"</p> - -<p>Philip drew himself up.</p> - -<p>"She is the lady whom I hope one day to make my wife."</p> - -<p>"<i>Comment?</i> Your wife? <i>Ah, voyons! Cela change l'affaire!</i> I did not -know that. Stop his talk, by all means."</p> - -<p>"It's what I am going to do," said Philip. "<i>Scélérat!</i>"</p> - -<p>"With a vile taste for pink, <i>hein</i>? You'll call upon me?"</p> - -<p>"If you please. And, I think, De Bergeret."</p> - -<p>"Saint-Dantin, a wager!" called De Vangrisse. "What are you talking of -so earnestly?"</p> - -<p>"Of pink coats," answered Philip. "Oh, my rondeau! Where is it?"</p> - -<p>"Devil take your rondeau!" cried the Vicomte. "Come and hazard a throw -with me."</p> - -<p>"<i>A l'instant!</i>" Philip untied the ribbon about his rondeau and spread -out the parchment. "I insist that you shall listen to this product of -my brain!" He mounted a chair amid derisive cheers, and bowed right and -left in mock solemnity. "To the Pearl that Trembles in her Ear.</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">"<i>Cette petite perle qui tremblotte</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Au bout ton oreille, et qui chuchotte</i></div> - <div class="verse indent2"><i>Je ne sais quoi de tendre et de malin.</i></div> - <div class="verse indent2"><i>A l'air à la fois modeste et coquin,</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Si goguenarde est elle et si dévote.</i></div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">"<i>A regarder c'est toute une gavotte</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Où l'on s'avance, se penche, et pivote,</i></div> - <div class="verse indent2"><i>Lors que tu branles d'un movement fin</i></div> - <div class="verse indent4"><i>Cette petite perle.</i></div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">"<i>C'est une étoile dans le ciel qui flotte—</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Un vif éclair qui luit dans une grotte—</i></div> - <div class="verse indent2"><i>Un feu follet qui hors de mon chemin</i></div> - <div class="verse indent2"><i>M'attire, m'éblouit, m'égare—</i>"</div> -</div></div> - -<p>Philip paused for his final effect. Arose Saint-Dantin, and like a -flash interjected:</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent24">"<i>Enfin,</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Elle m'embête—saperlipopette!—</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Cette petite perle.</i>"</div> -</div></div> - -<p>Outraged, Philip threw the parchment at his head.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="Nine" id="Nine"><span class="smcap">Nine</span></a><br /> -<span class="smcap">Mr. Bancroft Is Enraged</span></h2> - - -<p>"Philippe, do you go to De Farraud's to-night?" asked De Bergeret -suddenly. He was lounging on the couch in Philip's room, watching -Philip adjust his patches.</p> - -<p>"De Farraud's? I'd not thought of it. Whom shall I meet there?"</p> - -<p>"Your very obedient," said De Bergeret, flourishing his hat.</p> - -<p>"The prospect does not entice me," answered Philip. "No, don't retort! -Don't speak. Don't move!" He leaned forward, shifting a candle to throw -its light on his face, and frowned at his reflection. The white hand -that held the haresfoot wavered an instant, and then alighted at the -corner of his mouth. Philip sat back, studying the effect.</p> - -<p>"Whom else shall I meet, Jules?"</p> - -<p>"The usual people, I fancy. And some others, no doubt."</p> - -<p>"De Farraud's friends are so very mixed," deplored Philip. "Do you -suppose that De Chambert will be present?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing is more certain," yawned De Bergeret. "But it will be amusing, -and the play will be high, which is all that matters."</p> - -<p>"But De Chambert wears puce small-clothes," objected Philip.</p> - -<p>"Does he? <i>Mordieu</i>, I'd like to see that! Puce small-clothes, -forsooth! And what does our Philippe wear?"</p> - -<p>Philip glanced lovingly down at his pearl-grey breeches.</p> - -<p>"Grey, and palest pink, with lacings of silver." He slipped out of his -gaily-hued robe, and stood up.</p> - -<p>De Bergeret levelled his eyeglass at him.</p> - -<p>"<i>Parbleu, Philippe!</i> Grey lace!"</p> - -<p>Philip shook out his ruffles.</p> - -<p>"A sweet conceit, <i>hein</i>? But wait! François, my vest!"</p> - -<p>His valet brought it, and helped Philip to put it on. It was a very -exquisite confection of pink and silver brocade.</p> - -<p>De Bergeret was interested.</p> - -<p>"I'll swear you designed that, Philippe! Now for the coat!"</p> - -<p>When Philip had at last succeeded in entering into the coat it was some -ten minutes later. François stepped back, panting; Philip arranged his -sword to his satisfaction.</p> - -<p>"A careless sprinkling of rubies, <i>hein</i>? One in the cravat, one here, -another in my wig. And on my fingers, so!..."</p> - -<p>"Perfect!" applauded De Bergeret. "<i>Tonnerre de Dieu</i>, pink -hummingbirds on your stockings!"</p> - -<p>François beamed and clasped his hands, gazing in rapt admiration at -Philip's startlingly clocked legs.</p> - -<p>Philip laughed.</p> - -<p>"Do they please your artistic soul, Jules? And are they to be wasted -on De Farraud? I had intended to go to the Saint-Clamond rout, where I -know I shall meet Clothilde. Come with me!"</p> - -<p>De Bergeret shook his head.</p> - -<p>"I promised De Vangrisse I'd be at De Farraud's some time to-night. -Forget the lovely Clothilde, Philippe. Bethink you, your so dear friend -Bancroft will come to Farraud's in De Chambert's train!"</p> - -<p>Philip was fixing a long ruby ear-ring in his right ear, but he stopped -suddenly, and looked over his shoulder at De Bergeret.</p> - -<p>"<i>Comment?</i>"</p> - -<p>"Why, you leap to my bait!" said De Bergeret, amused. "I thought you -could not resist so great an attraction!"</p> - -<p>Philip fixed the ruby and swept round for his cloak and hat.</p> - -<p>"Faith, that can I not. I come, Jules, I come! François, thou rogue, my -snuff-box! Would that he may be wearing that salmon-pink! François, my -cane! Jules, you are sitting on my cloak! <i>Sangdieu!</i> My new cloak!" -He swept De Bergeret off the coat, and shook out the soft, rose-lined -folds. "God be praised, it is unhurt!" With a deft movement he swung it -over his shoulders and fastened it. "My hat! Jules, what think you of -my hat?"</p> - -<p>"A grey hat! Philippe, what an audacity! You are really coming to De -Farraud's?"</p> - -<p>"To meet the so dear M. Bancroft. <i>En avant, Jules!</i>"</p> - -<p>De Bergeret went to the glass.</p> - -<p>"Cultivate a more restful manner, <i>mon petit</i>! I am not to be hurried. -Do you like this mixture of violet and cream?"</p> - -<p>"I like everything you have on, even the so badly arranged cravat! I am -consumed with impatience! Come!"</p> - -<p>"But why? Are you hasting to see the unspeakable Bancroft?"</p> - -<p>"But yes! Whom else? I will explain <i>en route</i>."</p> - -<p>De Bergeret suffered himself to be led to the door.</p> - -<p>"Philippe, it is not <i>convenable</i> to display such enthusiasm. Languor -is now the fashion."</p> - -<p>"I am a fashion unto myself, then. I am an original. And I go to call -out M. Bancroft!"</p> - -<p>De Bergeret stopped short.</p> - -<p>"What! A brawl? No, then, I'll not come!"</p> - -<p>"A brawl? Is it possible? I shall conduct the affair with great -<i>douceur</i>, I assure you! You and Saint-Dantin are to be my seconds."</p> - -<p>"<i>Miséricorde!</i> Philippe, you become more and more tiresome!" -expostulated his friend. "Why must you fight this fellow?"</p> - -<p>"An old quarrel—the settling of an unpaid score! <i>Allons!</i>"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Oh, the devil," muttered Bancroft.</p> - -<p>"<i>Où donc?</i>" inquired Le Vallon, who was sitting next to him and who -understood English.</p> - -<p>Bancroft shot an angry glance towards the door. Le Vallon turned to see -what had excited his wrath.</p> - -<p>Talking to De Farraud, with many quick gestures and smiles, was Philip. -He had just arrived, and he was apologizing for his lateness, throwing -all the blame on De Bergeret, who accepted it meekly.</p> - -<p>"Oh, the little Englishman!" said Le Vallon scornfully. "Always late, -always eccentric. And grey lace! What an affectation!"</p> - -<p>Philip cast a swift glance round the room. His eyes rested an instant -on Bancroft's face, then they passed on. Two or three men called to -him, and he presently went to dice with De Vangrisse. But when Le -Vallon left Bancroft to join a faro group, Philip swept up his dice, -and with a laughing word to De Vangrisse, promising to return, he -walked over to Bancroft's table, and sat down in Le Vallon's chair with -a swirl of his full skirts.</p> - -<p>Bancroft was about to rise. Astonished at Philip's sudden advent, he -sank back again.</p> - -<p>"To what do I owe this honour?" he demanded.</p> - -<p>Philip dealt out the cards.</p> - -<p>"I will tell you. A hand of piquet? You will declare?" Bancroft sorted -his hand rather sullenly. Not until he had declared and played his card -did Philip speak again. Then he took the trick and leaned forward.</p> - -<p>"It comes to my ears that you have been bandying a certain lady's name -about Paris in a way that does not please me. You understand, yes?"</p> - -<p>"What the devil is it to you?" cried Bancroft, crimson-faced.</p> - -<p>"Sh, sh! Not so loud, if you please! Go on playing! I am informed that -you speak of this lady as a pretty piece! It is not how I will have -you speak of her. Also, you say that she fell in love with you <i>en -désespéré</i>. <i>Eh bien</i>, I say that you lie in your throat!"</p> - -<p>"Sir!"</p> - -<p>"<i>Doucement, doucement.</i> Further, I say that if so be you again mention -this lady's name in public I shall send my lackeys to punish you. It is -understood?"</p> - -<p>"You—you—you impudent young cockerel! I shall know how to answer -this! What's Cleone to you, eh?"</p> - -<p>The pleasant smile died. Philip leaned forward.</p> - -<p>"That name I will not have spoken, m'sieur. Strive to bear it in mind. -I have many friends, and they will tell me if you speak of the lady -when I am not by. And of the rest I have warned you."</p> - -<p>"Ye can understand this, Mr. Jettan—I'll speak of her how and when I -like!"</p> - -<p>Philip shrugged.</p> - -<p>"You talk foolishly. There is no question of refusal to comply with my -wishes. If I so please I can make Paris ve-ry uncomfortable for you. -You know that, I think."</p> - -<p>Bancroft was speechless with rage.</p> - -<p>"There is another matter," continued Philip amiably. "Once before I -had occasion to complain of your manner. I do so again. And I find the -colour of your ribbons most distasteful to mine eye."</p> - -<p>Bancroft sprang up, his chair grating on the polished floor.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps you'll have the goodness to name your friends, sir?" he choked.</p> - -<p>Philip bowed.</p> - -<p>"This time, yes. It is a little debt I have to pay. M. le Comte de -Saint-Dantin and M. de Bergeret will act for me. Or De Vangrisse -yonder, or M. le Duc de Vally-Martin."</p> - -<p>"The first named will suffice," snapped Bancroft. "My friends will wait -on them as soon as may be." With that he flounced away to the other end -of the room.</p> - -<p>Philip walked back to De Vangrisse and perched on the arm of his chair.</p> - -<p>De Bergeret cast his dice and nodded at Philip.</p> - -<p>"The deed is done?"</p> - -<p>"Most satisfactorily," answered Philip. "Throw, Paul, you can beat -that."</p> - -<p>"Not I! Jules has the devil's own luck to-night. If it is not an -impertinence, are you to meet M. Bancroft?"</p> - -<p>"Of course. Oh, <i>peste</i>!"—as De Vangrisse cast his dice.</p> - -<p>"What did I tell you? May I second you?"</p> - -<p>"A thousand thanks, Paul. But Saint-Dantin and Jules have consented to -act for me."</p> - -<p>"Well, I shall come as a spectator," said De Vangrisse. "Jules, another -hundred! I'll not be beaten by you!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Le Vallon, who had watched the brief encounter between his friend and -Philip with great curiosity, now edged across to where Bancroft was -standing.</p> - -<p>Bancroft turned.</p> - -<p>"Come apart a moment," he said. His voice was still trembling with -passion. He and Le Vallon drew near to the window.</p> - -<p>"You saw that damned fellow come up to me just now?"</p> - -<p>"But yes! I watched very closely. What did he want with you?"</p> - -<p>"He came to impose his will—his will!—on mine. Curse his impudence!"</p> - -<p>"Why? What did he say?" asked Le Vallon inquisitively.</p> - -<p>Bancroft did not answer.</p> - -<p>"I want you to act for me," he said abruptly. "He—insulted me, and -I've sworn to teach him a lesson."</p> - -<p>Le Vallon drew back a little.</p> - -<p>"What? You seek to kill him? Kill <i>le petit Anglais</i>?" His tone was -dubious.</p> - -<p>"No, not quite that. I've no wish for trouble. He has too many friends. -I'll teach him to leave me alone!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes! But..." Le Vallon pursed his lips.</p> - -<p>"But what?" barked Bancroft.</p> - -<p>"It is said that he is a not-to-be-despised swordsman. He pinked Armand -de Sedlamont with great ease."</p> - -<p>"Pooh!" said Bancroft. "Six months ago—"</p> - -<p>"I know, I know, but he has changed."</p> - -<p>Bancroft scowled.</p> - -<p>"Well, will you act for me or not?"</p> - -<p>Le Vallon drew himself up.</p> - -<p>"M'sieur, I do not entirely appreciate your manner."</p> - -<p>Bancroft laughed uneasily.</p> - -<p>"Oh, come, Le Vallon! Don't take offence! That puppy has so annoyed me -that I can scarce keep my temper. Where's De Chambert?"</p> - -<p>"Playing at lansquenet with De Farraud. And I think we had best mingle -with the others. I do not care to appear conspicuous."</p> - -<p>Bancroft caught at his arm.</p> - -<p>"But you will second me?"</p> - -<p>"I shall be honoured," bowed Le Vallon. "And I hope you will succeed in -showing my fine gentleman his place."</p> - -<p>Later in the evening Saint-Dantin sauntered over to where Philip -sat, perched on the edge of the table, toasting some of his friends. -Saint-Dantin joined the gathering and laid a hand on Philip's shoulder. -Philip, who was drinking, choked.</p> - -<p>"<i>Malédiction!</i> Oh, 'tis you, Louis! What now?"</p> - -<p>"There is a rumour that you go to fight <i>ce cher</i> Bancroft, Philippe."</p> - -<p>"Already?" Philip was startled. "Who told you?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Personne.</i>" Saint-Dantin smiled. "It is whispered here and there. And -Bancroft looks so black at you. It's true?"</p> - -<p>"Of course it's true! Did I not say I should do it? His seconds are to -wait upon you and Jules."</p> - -<p>"How very fatiguing!" sighed Saint-Dantin. "But quite amusing. One -jubilates. Bancroft is not at all liked. He is so <i>entreprenant</i>. An' I -mistake not, you will have an audience," he chuckled.</p> - -<p>"What?" Philip gripped his wrist. "I won't have an audience!"</p> - -<p>Saint-Dantin blinked, loosening the clasp on his wrist.</p> - -<p>"<i>Pas si éclatant</i>, Philippe," he said. "You twist and turn like a -puppet on wires! I only know that at least five here to-night swear -they'll see the fight."</p> - -<p>"But it is monstrous!" objected Philip. "I forbid you to divulge the -whereabouts of the meeting."</p> - -<p>"Oh, <i>entendu</i>! But the secret will out."</p> - -<p>"How am I to keep a steady wrist with a dozen ogling fools watching?" -demanded Philip.</p> - -<p>"You must keep it steady," said De Chatelin. "My money's for you, -<i>petit Anglais</i>!"</p> - -<p>Philip looked genuinely perturbed.</p> - -<p>"Henri, it is iniquitous! It is not a public exhibition that I engage -in! One would say we were gladiators!"</p> - -<p>"<i>Reste tranquille</i>," grinned De Vangrisse. "We are all backing you, -<i>mon petit</i>."</p> - -<p>"I trust you'll not forget to inform His Majesty of the rendezvous," -said Philip, resorting to bitter sarcasm. "And have you engaged a -fiddler to enliven the meeting?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Philippe se fâche</i>," teased De Chatelin. "Quiet, little fighting -cock!"</p> - -<p>"I shall write an ode!" threatened Philip direfully.</p> - -<p>"Ah no, that is too much!" cried De Vangrisse with feeling.</p> - -<p>"And I shall read it to you before I engage. Well?"</p> - -<p>"It is a heavy price to pay," answered Paul, "but not too heavy for the -entertainment."</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="Ten" id="Ten"><span class="smcap">Ten</span></a><br /> -<span class="smcap">In Which a Letter Is Read</span></h2> - - -<p>Cleone sat on a stool at Sir Maurice's knee and sighed. So did Sir -Maurice, and knew that they sighed for the same thing.</p> - -<p>"Well, my dear," he said, trying to speak cheerfully, "how is your -mamma?"</p> - -<p>"The same as ever, I thank you," answered Cleone.</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice patted her hand.</p> - -<p>"And how is little Cleone?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, sir, can you ask? I am very well," she said, with great -sprightliness. "And you?"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice was more honest.</p> - -<p>"To tell the truth, my dear, I miss that young scamp."</p> - -<p>Cleone played with her fingers, her head bent.</p> - -<p>"Do you, sir? He should be home again ere long. Do you—do you yet know -where he is?"</p> - -<p>"No. That does not worry me. My family does not write letters."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Tom—has not told you, I suppose."</p> - -<p>"No. I've not seen Tom for some time.... The boy has been away six -months now. Gad, but I'd like to see him walk in at that door!"</p> - -<p>Cleone's head sank a little lower.</p> - -<p>"Do you think—harm could have come to him, sir?"</p> - -<p>"No. Else had I heard. Faith, it's our own fault, Cleone, and we are -grumbling!"</p> - -<p>"I never—"</p> - -<p>"My dear, don't pretend to me! Do you think I don't know?"</p> - -<p>Cleone was silent.</p> - -<p>"We sent Philip to acquire polish. Heaven knows what has happened to -him! Would you care greatly if he returned—without the polish, child?"</p> - -<p>"No!" whispered Cleone.</p> - -<p>"Nor should I. Strange! But I should prefer it, I confess."</p> - -<p>"Do you think—do you think he—he will be—very elegant, Sir Maurice?"</p> - -<p>He smiled.</p> - -<p>"I fear not, Cleone. Can you see our Philip tricked up in town clothes, -apeing town ways?"</p> - -<p>"N—no."</p> - -<p>There was silence for a few minutes.</p> - -<p>"Sir Maurice."</p> - -<p>"My dear?"</p> - -<p>"Mamma has a letter from my aunt, Lady Malmerstoke."</p> - -<p>"So? And what does she say therein?"</p> - -<p>"She—she wants me to go to her for the season."</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice looked down at her.</p> - -<p>"And you are going?"</p> - -<p>"I don't—know. I—do not wish to leave you, sir."</p> - -<p>"That is very kind of you, child. But I'd not have you stay for my -sake."</p> - -<p>"It's no such thing, sir. I do not want to go."</p> - -<p>"Why, Cleone, not for the season? Think of the balls and the routs."</p> - -<p>"I don't—care about it." It was a forlorn little voice, and Sir -Maurice patted her hand again.</p> - -<p>"Tut-tut, my love!"</p> - -<p>Another silence.</p> - -<p>"I do not think it is very kind in Philip to stay away from you for so -long a time," said Cleone wistfully.</p> - -<p>"You forget, dear. I sent him. He is but obeying me."</p> - -<p>"And—and me."</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice found nothing to say to that.</p> - -<p>"Was I—perhaps—very wicked—to—to—do what he said—I did?"</p> - -<p>"What was that, Cleone?"</p> - -<p>"Th—throw away—an honest man's love for—for—oh, you know the things -he said!"</p> - -<p>"Silly young fool! You gave him his just deserts, Cleone. And you may -vouch for it that he will be back here at your feet in a very short -while."</p> - -<p>Cleone glanced up through her lashes.</p> - -<p>"Do you really think so?" she asked eagerly.</p> - -<p>"Of course I do!" he answered stoutly.</p> - -<p>Just then a bell clanged somewhere in the distance. Cleone jumped up -and ran to the window which looked out on the avenue. She tip-toed, -craning her neck to see who stood in the porch.</p> - -<p>"Why, it is Sir Harold Bancroft!" she exclaimed.</p> - -<p>"Plague take him, then!" said Sir Maurice, disagreeably. "I can't stand -the fellow or his sprig of a son!"</p> - -<p>Cleone blushed and continued to stand with her back to the room until -footsteps sounded along the passage, and the door opened to admit the -visitor.</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice rose.</p> - -<p>"Give ye good den, Bancroft. It's good of you to come to visit me this -cold day."</p> - -<p>Bancroft wrung the thin hand, pressing Sir Maurice's rings into his -fingers. He bowed jerkily to the curtseying Cleone, and blurted forth -his errand.</p> - -<p>"'Tis a joke I must have you share! 'Twill be the death of you, I vow. -You knew my son was in Paris?"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice put forward a chair.</p> - -<p>"Really? No, I did not know."</p> - -<p>"Well, he is. And"—a chuckle escaped him—"so is yours!"</p> - -<p>"Oh!" It was a smothered exclamation from Cleone.</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice smiled.</p> - -<p>"I guessed as much," he said, quite untruthfully. "Have you news from -Henry?"</p> - -<p>"No, not I! But I've a letter from an old friend of -mine—Satterthwaite. Do ye know him?"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice shook his head. Having seen his guest into a chair, he sat -down on the couch, and beckoned Cleone to his side.</p> - -<p>"No. He, too, is in Paris?"</p> - -<p>"Ay. Now wait while I find the letter! You'll split o' laughter when -you've heard me read it!" He rummaged in his capacious pockets, and -drew forth two or three crumpled sheets. These he spread out, and -proceeded to find the place.</p> - -<p>"'I trust....' No, that's not it! 'We are' ... Hum, hum, hum! Ah, here -we have it! Just listen to this!" He held the parchment close to his -nose and began to read:</p> - -<p>"'... Whom should I meet but your boy, Henry! I had no notion he was -in Paris, or I should have sought him out, you may depend. The manner -of my meeting with him was most singular, as you will agree, and it -is the more interesting as the occasion affords the subject for the -latest joke of Paris, nay, I may almost say scandal, though to be sure -I mean not our meeting, but that which I am about to relate....' A bit -involved, that," remarked Bancroft, frowning.</p> - -<p>"Not at all," said Sir Maurice. "I understand perfectly."</p> - -<p>"Well, it's more than I do! However: 'I came upon Moosoo de -Château-Banvau the other day....'"</p> - -<p>"Château-Banvau!"</p> - -<p>"Eh? Do ye know him?"</p> - -<p>"Do I know him! As I know my brother!"</p> - -<p>"Fancy! There's a coincidence! But there's more to come! Where was I? -Oh, yes—'came upon Moosoo de Château-Banvau the other day and found -him in great amusement, which he offered me to share, and the which -I agreed to. He propounded me the joke that we were to see, and one -in which his <i>protégé</i>, a Mr. Philip Jettan, was the part cause of -and your son, Henry, the other!' Gad, that's a fine sentence! Are ye -listening to me, Jettan?"</p> - -<p>There was no need to ask that question. Both his auditors had their -whole attention fixed on him. Satisfied, he continued: "'This young -Jettan is, so says the Marquis, the craze of Fashionable Paris, the -ladies' darling'—do ye hear that now?—'and the maddest young scamp -that you could wish for. Then the Marquis further told me that Henry -was in Paris and engaged to fight a duel with this Jettan.'"</p> - -<p>"Oh, heavens!" cried Cleone.</p> - -<p>"Ye may well say so, my dear! Now, wait a while—the joke's against me, -I confess, but I had to tell you—'The cause whereof, it is rumoured, -is some lady whom both are enamoured of, some French wench, I think.'"</p> - -<p>Cleone was rigid. Her fingers tightened unconsciously on Sir Maurice's -arm.</p> - -<p>"'Jettan being a great favourite among the young sparks here, they all, -having got wind of the affair, combined among themselves, laying wagers -about the fight, the most of the money being laid on Jettan, as I hear. -Then to bait him, or what-not, they conspired to be present at the -meeting despite Jettan's protests. The Marquis laughed mightily here, -and said that Jettan threatened to read them an ode should they appear, -which he seemed to find vastly entertaining on account of some joke or -other concerning Jettan's poetry.'"</p> - -<p>"Philip's <i>poetry</i>?..." said Sir Maurice faintly. "Proceed, Bancroft."</p> - -<p>"Ay, wait a bit! Here we are: 'The Marquis was going to be present, -having heard of the rumour, and swore to take me along with him. The -which I did consent to, as you may imagine. Well, we came out to -Neuilly in due course at half-after eight one morning, and mighty -cold it was, but that's neither here nor there. There we found a fair -gathering of young rakes with their horses or chariots, some half -dozen in all, laying wagers and all mightily amused. And, stap me, -if there was not a fiddler scraping away as if his life depended on -it. Soon after we were come, up drives a coach and out jumps three -men, the first in great disorder at finding so many there assembled. -This was Jettan, and prodigious elegant and finicky he was, too, all -patched and painted, and tricked up in velvets and silks and I don't -know what. He fell into a great rage, though he was laughing half the -time, and, indeed, 'twas a ridiculous situation, and he could scarce -help but to be tickled by it. He turns to his seconds and rates them, -but they were too amused to do aught but to hold their sides. Then -young Jettan orders us all off and especially begs the Marquis to exert -his influence, which he would not do. Then Jettan appealed to us to -withdraw, whereat they were all the more entertained, and adjured him -to <i>se taire</i>, as they call it, calling him <i>petit Philippe</i> and the -like. Then Jettan started to laugh himself and pulls out a roll of -parchment from his pocket, and was for declaiming some ode he had writ, -but that three of them took it from him. Then he says, "At least, send -that damned fiddler away!" and they replied, "All in good time," but -'twas himself had asked for him. Before he could say more, which he -was about to do, up comes another coach, and out gets your boy, Henry, -and his seconds. When they saw what was toward they were mightily put -out, as you may imagine, and, indeed, Henry was white and purple with -rage, saying this was an insult and he was not to be so mocked, and -the like. His seconds spoke apart with young Jettan's, and I give you -my word, they were dancing with fury, at least one was, but the little -one seemed more entertained. Then up comes Jettan, very solemn and -dignified, and bows to Henry. "I ask you to believe, moosoo," says -he, "that this is none of my designing. I desire," says he, "to offer -you my apologies for my friends' ill-timed pleasantry." Henry could -scarce mouth forth a word, so enraged was he, and was for retiring -at once, saying that he had borne much, but this was too much. The -fiddler was ordered to stop his scraping now, and the onlookers all -vowed they had come with serious intent to watch the fight, and would -not go until they had done so. Jettan offers to meet Henry another -day, when and where he will, but I could see Henry was burning to run -him through. "Since we are here," says he, "let us go on with it. I -await your convenience," he says, and, "I thank you," replies Jettan -and stands back. Henry's seconds were all for retiring, but he'd have -none of it, and bids them go to and choose the ground. At last all was -prepared, and the two stripped off their coats and vests. Everyone was -becomingly sober now, and, indeed, mighty anxious for young Jettan, -who is the smaller of the two, and Henry looking murder as he was. -Henry fought devilish hard, and, indeed, is a cunning fencer, as you -no doubt apprehend, but young Jettan was like a bit of quicksilver, in -and out with his sword most finicky and dainty. Soon we saw that Henry -was no match for him at all, and, indeed, could have been run through -the body a score of times, Jettan playing with him very pretty to see, -but I was sore distressed to see Henry so put to it. He gave Jettan -but the faintest scratch, and before we knew what was to do, there was -Henry reeling back and his sword on the ground. At which Jettan bows -very polite, and but a mite out of breath, and picks up the sword and -hands it to Henry. Henry was for continuing, and a brave lad he is, but -the seconds would have none of it, and 'twas all over. "I trust you -are satisfied, sir?" says Jettan. "Satisfied be damned!" pants Henry, -clutching at his shoulder. "Of the other matter between us," says -Jettan, "I can only counsel you to remember, for I meant what I said." -Then he walks off and we rode away.'" Bancroft stopped. "I saw the joke -was against me. What do ye think of that, Sir Maurice?"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice drew a deep breath.</p> - -<p>"My God, I would I had been there!" he said fervently.</p> - -<p>"Ay, 'twould have been a fine sight, I vow! But did ye ever hear the -like of it? Philip and the petticoats, eh? These lads, Sir Maurice! -These lads! Satterthwaite says he writes madrigals and what-not to the -ladies' eyelashes!" Bancroft went off into a long chuckle. "And so -ruffled my young hot-head, who had always a way with the petticoats!"</p> - -<p>Cleone rose and walked to the window. She opened it, cooling her hot -cheeks. And there she stayed, seated on the low couch that ran under -the window, until Bancroft finally took his departure.</p> - -<p>When Sir Maurice returned from seeing his guest out of the house, he -found her pale again, and very stiff.</p> - -<p>"Ahem!" said Sir Maurice. Then, brusquely: "Pack o' lies!"</p> - -<p>"Do you think so?" said Cleone hopefully.</p> - -<p>"Of course I do! The boy is but doing what I told him to do—acquiring -polish and <i>savoir faire</i> with your sex, my dear."</p> - -<p>Cleone sprang up.</p> - -<p>"You told him to—oh, how could you, sir?"</p> - -<p>"My dear, it's less than nothing, I dare swear. But Philip worsting -Bancroft like that! Philip the pet of Society! Gad, I never hoped for -this!"</p> - -<p>"Nor I," said Cleone bitterly. "And—and 'tis my -own—f-fault—for—s-sending him away—s-so c-cruelly, but—but—oh, -how <i>dare</i> he?"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice was silent.</p> - -<p>"He—he—I thought he—" she broke off, biting her lip. After a slight -pause she spoke again, with would-be lightness. "I—do you know, I -think I shall go to my aunt after all?"</p> - -<p>"Will you, my dear?" said Sir Maurice.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>That evening he was moved to write to his brother, an infrequent -proceeding. The outcome of that letter was a brief note from Tom, which -reached Philip a week later.</p> - -<p>"Dear Nephew,—The Devil's in it now and no Mistake. Old Satterthwaite -was Present at your crazy Duel, and has writ the whole Tale to Harry -Bancroft, who, curse him for an interfering old Fool, read it to your -Father and Cleone. The Tale is that you and B. quarrelled over some -French Minx, which may be True for all I know. In any Case, Cleone -is monstrous put out, and Comes to Towne to her Aunt, old Sally -Malmerstoke. Maurice writes me this and demands your Return, being -Upset for the Girl's sake, but secretly Delighted at the Story, if I -read his Letter aright. Do as you please, dear Boy, but I warn you, -Cleone is in the Mood for any Madness, as is the way when a Maid thinks -herself slighted. And she is a Prodigious pretty Chit. My love to -Château-Banvau and to Yr Self.—<span class="smcap">Tom.</span>"</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="Eleven" id="Eleven"><span class="smcap">Eleven</span></a><br /> -<span class="smcap">Philip Astonishes His Uncle</span></h2> - - -<p>Thomas, deep in the latest copy of the <i>Rambler</i>, was aroused by the -sound of wheels drawing up outside the house. He rose and stretched -himself, wondering who could choose such a day wherein to visit him. -He strolled to the window and peered out into the foggy street. He was -surprised to see, not a light town-chariot, but a large travelling -coach, top-heavy with baggage, and drawn by four steaming horses. As he -watched, the door of the vehicle was thrown open and a slight gentleman -sprang out, not waiting for the steps to be let down. He was muffled -in a many-caped overcoat of Parisian cut, and shining leather boots -were on his feet. Tom was puzzled. Then, from out the coach, issued -two other men, evidently servants, the one small and wiry, the other -lank and cadaverous. Both seemed depressed. The man in the well-cut -cloak waved his hands at them and appeared to shoot forth a number of -instructions. The little man, scarcely visible beneath the bandboxes -that he carried, nodded, shivered, and rounded on the lean man. Then -the man in the cloak turned, and ran up the steps to Tom's front door. -A long bell-peal sounded through the house.</p> - -<p>Tom walked to the fire and stood with his back to it. Possibly this was -his friend Mainwaring come to visit him, but why did he bring so much -baggage? Tom rather hoped that the unknown guest had come to his house -in mistake for another's.</p> - -<p>But a quick tread came across the hall and the door of the library was -swept open. Hat in hand, the visitor stood before Tom, bowing.</p> - -<p>"Revered uncle, I kiss your hands!" And he proceeded to do so.</p> - -<p>"God ha' mercy, it's Philip!" gasped Tom. "I never expected you for -another week, lad!"</p> - -<p>Philip tossed his hat and gloves on to the table and wriggled out of -his cloak.</p> - -<p>"I am <i>de trop</i>, no?"</p> - -<p>"Never in your life!" Tom assured him. "Stand up, child, and let me -look at you!" Then, as Philip clicked his heels together and faced him, -laughing, his eyes widened, and his lips formed a soundless whistle. -"By the Lord Harry, Philip, it's marvellous! How could you do it in six -months——!"</p> - -<p>Philip rustled over to the fire and stooped, warming his hands.</p> - -<p>"Fog, cold, damp! Brrh! The unspeakable climate! Tom, it is permitted -that I stay with you until I find an abode?"</p> - -<p>With difficulty his uncle withdrew his gape from Philip's -claret-coloured coat of fine cloth, laced with gold.</p> - -<p>"Can you ask? Stay as long as you will, lad, you're a joy to behold!"</p> - -<p>"<i>Merci du compliment!</i>" smiled Philip. "You perhaps admire the mixture -of claret and biscuit as I wear it?"</p> - -<p>Tom's eyes travelled down to the creaseless biscuit-coloured -small-clothes.</p> - -<p>"Ay. I admire everything. The boots most of all. The boots—Philip, -where did you obtain them?"</p> - -<p>Philip glanced carelessly down at his shapely leg.</p> - -<p>"They were made for me. Me, I am not satisfied with them. I shall give -them to François."</p> - -<p>"Give them to François?" cried his uncle. "Ye wicked boy! Where is the -fellow?"</p> - -<p>"He and Jacques are struggling with my baggage and Moggat." He -stretched out a detaining hand as Tom started forward to the door. "Ah, -do not disturb yourself. I have spoken with <i>ce bon</i> Moggat, and all is -well. He will arrange everything."</p> - -<p>Tom came back.</p> - -<p>"He will be in a frenzy, Philip! All that baggage!"</p> - -<p>"All—that baggage?" Philip spoke with uplifted brows. "It has -arrived?" He went to the window and looked out. "But no, not yet."</p> - -<p>"B—but—is there more to come?" asked Tom.</p> - -<p>"But of course! The bulk follows me."</p> - -<p>Tom sat down weakly.</p> - -<p>"And you who six months ago thought yourself rich in the possession of -three coats."</p> - -<p>Philip came back to the fire. He made a little grimace of distaste.</p> - -<p>"Those far-off days! That is ended—completely!"</p> - -<p>Tom cast him a shrewd glance.</p> - -<p>"What, all of it? Cleone?"</p> - -<p>"Ah!" Philip smiled. "That is—another—matter. I have to thank you for -your letter, Tom."</p> - -<p>"It brought you back?"</p> - -<p>"<i>En partie.</i> She is here?"</p> - -<p>"Ay, with Sally Malmerstoke. She is already noticed. Sally takes her -everywhere. She is now looked for—and courted." His eyes twinkled.</p> - -<p>"Oho!" said Philip. He poured out a glass of burgundy from the decanter -that stood on a small table. "So she is furious with me, yes?"</p> - -<p>"So I believe. Satterthwaite wrote that you and Bancroft fought over -the fair name of some French lass. Did you?"</p> - -<p>Philip sipped his wine.</p> - -<p>"Not a whit. 'Twas her own fair name, <i>à vrai dire</i>."</p> - -<p>"Oh! You'll tell her that, of course?"</p> - -<p>"Not at all."</p> - -<p>Tom stared.</p> - -<p>"What then? Have you some deep game in mind, Philip?"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps. Oh, I don't know! I thank her for reforming me, but, being -human, I am hurt and angry! <i>Le petit Philippe se fâche</i>," he said, -smiling suddenly. "He would see whether it is himself she loves, or—a -painted puppet. It's foolish, but what would you?"</p> - -<p>"So you are now a painted puppet?" said Tom politely.</p> - -<p>"What else?"</p> - -<p>"Dear me!" said Tom, and relapsed into profound meditation.</p> - -<p>"I want to have her love me for—myself, and not for my clothes, or my -airs and graces. It's incomprehensible?"</p> - -<p>"Not entirely," answered Tom. "I understand your feelings. What's to -do?"</p> - -<p>"Merely my baggage," said Philip, with another glance towards the -window. "It is the coach that you hear."</p> - -<p>"No, not that." Tom listened. Voices raised in altercation sounded in -the hall.</p> - -<p>Philip laughed.</p> - -<p>"That is the inimitable François. I do not think that Moggat finds -favour in his eyes."</p> - -<p>"I'll swear he does not find favour in Moggat's eyes! Who is the other -one?"</p> - -<p>"Jacques, my groom and <i>homme à tout faire</i>!"</p> - -<p>"Faith, ye've a retinue!"</p> - -<p>"What would you?" shrugged Philip. He sat down opposite his uncle, and -stretched his legs to the fire. "Heigh-ho! I do not like this weather."</p> - -<p>"Nor anyone else. What are you going to do, now that you have returned?"</p> - -<p>"Who knows? I make my bow to London Society, I amuse myself a -little—ah yes! and I procure a house."</p> - -<p>"Do you make your bow to Cleone?"</p> - -<p>An impish smile danced into Philip's eyes.</p> - -<p>"I present myself to Cleone—as she would have had me. A drawling, -conceited, and mincing fop. Which I am not, believe me!"</p> - -<p>Tom considered him.</p> - -<p>"No, you're not. You don't drawl."</p> - -<p>"I shall drawl," promised Philip. "And I shall be very languid."</p> - -<p>"It's the fashion, of course. You did not adopt it?"</p> - -<p>"It did not entice me. I am <i>le petit sans repos</i>, and <i>le petit</i> -Philippe <i>au Cœur Perdu</i>, and <i>petit original</i>. <i>Hé, hé</i>, I shall be -homesick! It is inevitable."</p> - -<p>"Are you so much at home in Paris?" asked Tom, rather surprised. "You -liked the Frenchies?"</p> - -<p>"Liked them! Could I have disliked them?"</p> - -<p>"I should have thought it possible—for you. Did you make many friends?"</p> - -<p>"<i>A revendre!</i> They took me to their bosoms."</p> - -<p>"Did they indeed! Who do you count amongst your intimates?"</p> - -<p>"Saint-Dantin—you know him?"</p> - -<p>"I've met him. Tall and dark?"</p> - -<p>"Ay. Paul de Vangrisse, Jules de Bergeret, Henri de Chatelin—oh, I -can't tell you! They are all charming!"</p> - -<p>"And the ladies?"</p> - -<p>"Also charming. Did you ever meet Clothilde de Chaucheron, or Julie de -Marcherand? <i>Ah, voilà ce qui fait ressouvenir!</i> I count that <i>rondeau</i> -one of my most successful efforts. You shall hear it some time or -other."</p> - -<p>"That <i>what</i>?" ejaculated Tom, sitting upright in his surprise.</p> - -<p>"A <i>rondeau</i>: 'To the Pearl that Trembles in her Ear.' I would you -could have seen it."</p> - -<p>"Which? The <i>rondeau</i>?"</p> - -<p>"The pearl, man! The <i>rondeau</i> you shall most assuredly see."</p> - -<p>"Merciful heaven!" gasped Tom. "A <i>rondeau</i>! Philip—poet! <i>Sacr-ré -mille petits cochons!</i>"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Monsieur dines at home this evening?" asked François.</p> - -<p>Philip sat at his dressing-table, busy with many pots and his face. He -nodded.</p> - -<p>"The uncle of Monsieur receives, without doubt?"</p> - -<p>"A card-party," said Philip, tracing his eyebrows with a careful hand.</p> - -<p>François skipped to the wardrobe and flung it open. With a finger to -his nose he meditated aloud.</p> - -<p>"The blue and silver ... <i>un peu trop soigné</i>. The orange ... <i>peu -convenable</i>. The purple the purple <i>essayons</i>!"</p> - -<p>Philip opened the rouge-jar.</p> - -<p>"The grey I wore at De Flaubert's last month."</p> - -<p>François clapped a hand to his head.</p> - -<p>"<i>Ah, sot!</i>" he apostrophised himself. "<i>Voilà qui est très bien.</i>" He -dived into the wardrobe, emerging presently with the required dress. He -laid it on the bed, stroking it lovingly, and darted away to a large -chest. From it he brought forth the pink and silver waistcoat that -De Bergeret had admired, and the silver lace. Then he paused. "<i>Les -bas?... Les bas aux oiseaux-mouches ... où sont-ils?</i>" He peered into -a drawer, turning over neat piles of stockings. A convulsion of fury -seemed to seize him, and he sped to the door. "Ah, <i>sapristi! Coquin! -Jacques!</i>"</p> - -<p>In answer to his frenzied call came the cadaverous one, shivering. -François seized him by the arm and shook him.</p> - -<p>"Thou misbegotten son of a toad!" he raved. "Where is the small box I -bade you guard with your life? Where is it, I say. Thou—"</p> - -<p>"I gave it into your hands," said Jacques sadly. "Into your hands, your -very hands, in this room here by the door! I swear it."</p> - -<p>"Swear it? What is it to me, your swear? I say I have not seen the box! -At Dover, what did I do? <i>Nom d'un nom</i>, did I not say to you, lose thy -head sooner than that box?" His voice rose higher and higher. "And now, -where is it?"</p> - -<p>"I tell you I gave it you! It is this bleak country that has warped -your brain. Never did the box leave my hands until I gave it into -yours!"</p> - -<p>"And I say you did not! <i>Saperlipopette</i>, am I a fool that I should -forget? Now listen to what you have done! You have lost the stockings -of Monsieur! By your incalculable stupidity, the stupidity of a pig, an -ass—"</p> - -<p>"<i>Sacré nom de Dieu!</i> Am I to be disturbed by your shrieking?" Philip -had flung down the haresfoot. He slewed round in his chair. "Shut the -door! Is it that you wish to annoy my uncle that you shout and scream -in his house?" His voice was thunderous.</p> - -<p>François spread out his hands.</p> - -<p>"M'sieur, I ask pardon! It is this <i>âne</i>, this careless <i>gaillard</i>—"</p> - -<p>"<i>Mais, m'sieur!</i>" protested Jacques. "It is unjust; it is false!"</p> - -<p>"<i>Ecoutez donc, m'sieur!</i>" begged François, as the stern grey eyes went -from his face to that of the unhappy Jacques. "It is the band-box that -contains your stockings—the stockings <i>aux oiseaux-mouches</i>! Ah, would -that I had carried it myself! Would that—"</p> - -<p>"Would that you would be quiet!" said Philip severely. "If either of -you have lost those stockings ..." He paused, and once more his eyes -travelled from one to the other. "I shall seek another valet."</p> - -<p>François became tearful.</p> - -<p>"Ah, no, no, m'sieur! It is this <i>imbécile</i>, this <i>crapaud</i>—"</p> - -<p>"<i>M'sieu, je vous implore</i>—"</p> - -<p>Philip pointed dramatically across the room. Both men looked fearfully -in the direction of that accusing finger.</p> - -<p>"Ah!" François darted forward. "<i>La voilà!</i> What did I say?" He clasped -the box to his breast. "What did I say?"</p> - -<p>"But it is not so!" cried Jacques. "What did you say? You said you had -not seen the box! What did <i>I</i> say? I said—"</p> - -<p>"Enough!" commanded Philip. "I will not endure this bickering! Be -quiet, François! Little monkey that you are!"</p> - -<p>"<i>M'sieur!</i>" François was hurt. His sharp little face fell into lines -of misery.</p> - -<p>"Little monkey," continued Philip inexorably, "with more thought for -your chattering than for my welfare."</p> - -<p>"Ah, no, no, m'sieur! I swear it is not so! By the—"</p> - -<p>"I do not want your oaths," said Philip cruelly. "Am I to wait all -night for my cravat, while you revile the good Jacques?"</p> - -<p>François cast the box from him.</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>misérable</i>! The cravat! <i>Malheureux</i>, get thee gone!" He waved -agitated hands at Jacques. "You hinder me! You retard me! You upset -Monsieur! <i>Va-t-en!</i>"</p> - -<p>Jacques obeyed meekly, and Philip turned back to the mirror. To him -came François, wreathed once more in smiles.</p> - -<p>"He means well, <i>ce bon Jacques</i>," he said, busy with the cravat. "But -he is <i>sot</i>, you understand, <i>très sot</i>!" He pushed Philip's chin up -with a gentle hand. "He annoys m'sieur, <i>ah oui</i>! But he is a good -<i>garçon</i>, when all is said."</p> - -<p>"It is you who annoy me," answered Philip. "Not so tight, not so tight! -Do you wish to choke me?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Pardon</i>, m'sieur! No, it is not François who annoys you! <i>Ah, mille -fois non!</i> François—perhaps he is a little monkey, if m'sieur says -so, but he is a very good valet, <i>n'est-ce pas</i>? A monkey, if m'sieur -pleases, but very clever with a cravat. M'sieur has said it himself."</p> - -<p>"You are a child," said Philip. "Yes, that is very fair." He studied -his reflection. "I am pleased with it."</p> - -<p>"Aha!" François clasped his hands delightedly. "M'sieur is no longer -enraged! <i>Voyons</i>, I go to fetch the vest of m'sieur!"</p> - -<p>Presently, kneeling before his master and adjusting his stockings, he -volunteered another piece of information.</p> - -<p>"Me, I have been in this country before. I understand well the ways of -it. I understand the English, oh, <i>de part en part</i>! I know them for -a foolish race, <i>en somme</i>—saving always m'sieur, who is more French -than English—but never, never have I had the misfortune to meet so -terrible an Englishman as this servant of m'sieur's uncle, this Moggat. -<i>Si entêté, si impoli!</i> He looks on me with a suspicion! I cannot tell -m'sieur of his so churlish demeanour! He thinks, perhaps, that I go to -take his fine coat. Bah! I spit upon it! I speak to him as m'sieur has -bid me—<i>très doucement</i>. He pretends he cannot understand what it is I -say! Me, who speak English <i>aussi bien que le Français</i>! Deign to enter -into these shoes, m'sieur! I tell him I hold him in contempt! He makes -a <i>reniflement</i> in his nose, and he mutters 'damned leetle frog-eater!' -<i>Grand Dieu</i>, I could have boxed his ears, the impudent!"</p> - -<p>"I hope you did not?" said Philip anxiously.</p> - -<p>"Ah, bah! Would I so demean myself, m'sieur? It is I who am of a -peaceable nature, <i>n'est-ce pas</i>? But Jacques—<i>voyons, c'est autre -chose</i>! He is possessed of the hot temper, <i>ce pauvre</i> Jacques. I fear -for that Moggat if he enrages our Jacques." He shook his head solemnly, -and picked up the grey satin coat. "If m'sieur would find it convenient -to rise? Ah, <i>bien</i>!" He coaxed Philip into the coat, bit by bit. "I -say to you, m'sieur, I am consumed of an anxiety. Jacques, he is a -veritable fire-eater when he is roused, not like me, who am always -<i>doux comme un enfant</i>. I think, perhaps, he will refuse to remain in -the house with this pig of a Moggat."</p> - -<p>Philip shook out his ruffles.</p> - -<p>"I have never noticed that Jacques showed signs of a so violent -temper," he remarked.</p> - -<p>"But no! Of a surety, he would not exhibit his terrible passion to -m'sieur! Is it that I should permit him?"</p> - -<p>"Well," Philip slipped a ring on to his finger, "I am sorry for -Jacques, but he must be patient. Soon I shall go to a house of my own."</p> - -<p>François' face cleared as if by magic.</p> - -<p>"M'sieur is kind! A house of his own. <i>Je me rangerai bien!</i> M'sieur -contemplates a <i>mariage</i>, perhaps?"</p> - -<p>Philip dropped his snuff-box.</p> - -<p>"<i>Que diable—?</i>" he began, and checked himself. "Mind your own -business, François!"</p> - -<p>"<i>Ah, pardon, m'sieur!</i>" replied the irrepressible François. "I but -thought that m'sieur had the desire to wed, that he should return to -England so hurriedly!"</p> - -<p>"Hold your tongue!" said Philip sharply. "Understand me, François, -I'll have no meddling <i>bavardage</i> about me either to my face or below -stairs! <i>C'est entendu?</i>"</p> - -<p>"But yes, m'sieur," said François, abashed. "It is that my tongue runs -away with me."</p> - -<p>"You'd best keep a guard over it," answered Philip curtly.</p> - -<p>"Yes, m'sieur!" Meekly he handed Philip his cane and handkerchief. -Then, as his master still frowned, "M'sieur is still enraged?" he -ventured.</p> - -<p>Philip glanced down at him. At the sight of François' anxious, naïve -expression, the frown faded, and he laughed.</p> - -<p>"You are quite ridiculous," he said.</p> - -<p>François broke into responsive smiles at once.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>But when Philip had rustled away to join his uncle, the little valet -nodded shrewdly to himself and clicked his tongue against the roof of -his mouth.</p> - -<p>"<i>En vérité, c'est une femme</i>," he remarked. "<i>C'est ce que j'ai cru.</i>"</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="Twelve" id="Twelve"><span class="smcap">Twelve</span></a><br /> -<span class="smcap">Philip Plays a Dangerous Game</span></h2> - - -<p>François endured the detestable Moggat for a week. He was then rewarded -for his patience by the news that Philip was shortly to move into a -small house in Curzon Street, which belonged to a friend of Tom. This -gentleman consented to let his house for the space of two months, as he -was going abroad for that time. Philip went to inspect the prospective -abode, and found it to be furnished in excellent style. He closed with -its owner and went back to Half-Moon Street to break the joyful news to -François. From that moment the excitable valet's spirits soared high. -He would manage the affairs of the house for M'sieur; he would find -M'sieur a <i>chef</i>. Philip was content to waive responsibility. François -sallied forth with the air of one about to conquer, to find, so he told -Philip, the son of his aunt, a very fair <i>chef</i> and a good <i>garçon</i>. -Philip had no idea that François possessed any relations, much less -one in London. When he said this, François looked very waggish, and -admitted that he himself had forgotten the existence of this cousin -until the moment when M'sieur told him of the new home.</p> - -<p>"Then, <i>subitement</i>, I remember, for m'sieur will require a <i>chef</i> is -it not so?"</p> - -<p>"Assuredly," said Philip. "But your cousin may not wish to take service -with me, in which case I shall seek an English cook."</p> - -<p>"An English cook? Ah, bah! Is it that I would permit m'sieur to be so -ill served? No! M'sieur shall have a French <i>chef, bien sûr</i>. What does -an Englishman know of the <i>cuisine</i>? Is m'sieur to be insulted by the -tasteless, watery vegetables of such as the wife of Moggat? No! I go to -find my cousin!"</p> - -<p>"Very well," said Philip.</p> - -<p>"And then we have a household <i>bien tenu</i>. It is our poor Jacques who -could not support an Englishman in the house."</p> - -<p>"I hope I am not to be excluded?" smiled Philip.</p> - -<p>"<i>M'sieur se moque de moi!</i> Is it that m'sieur is English? M'sieur is -<i>tout comme un Français</i>." He bustled away, full of importance.</p> - -<p>The cousin was forthcoming, a stout, good-tempered soul, who rejoiced -in the name of Marie-Guillaume. François exhibited him with pride, -and he was engaged. That ended all Philip's responsibility. François -gathered up the reins of government, and in a week they were installed -in Curzon Street. Philip had done no more than say that he wished to -enter his new abode on Thursday. On Thursday he went out to Ranelagh; -when he returned to Half-Moon Street he found that his baggage had -gone. He took his leave of Tom, and walked up the road and round the -corner, into Curzon Street. His house was as neat as a new pin; his -baggage was unpacked; François was complacent. They might have lived in -the house for months; there was no disorder, no fuss, none of the slow -settling down. François, Jacques and Marie-Guillaume had fitted into -their respective niches in one short hour. Philip was moved to inform -François that he was a treasure.</p> - -<p>That evening he went to a ball given by the Duchess of Queensberry. And -there he met Cleone, for the first time since his return to England.</p> - -<p>The Duchess welcomed him effusively, for already Philip was a <i>persona -grata</i> in Society, and much sought after by hostesses. Tom had lost -no time in introducing him to the Fashionable World. The ladies were -captivated by his French air, and ogled him shamelessly. Then men found -that he was, for all his graces, singularly modest and unaffected at -heart, and they extended the hand of friendship towards him. People -began to look for him, and to be disappointed if he were absent.</p> - -<p>Until now, however, Philip had seen nothing of Cleone, but on all sides -he had heard of her. She was, he learned, London's newest beauty.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She was dancing when Philip saw her first, smiling up at her partner -with blue eyes that seemed bluer than ever, and lips that lay in a -happy curve. Her golden hair was unpowdered and piled in curls upon the -top of her head. Philip thought she was more beautiful than ever.</p> - -<p>He stood apart, watching her. She had not seen him; she was not even -thinking of him; those eyes were clear and joyous. Who was her partner? -Brainless-looking fool! Simpering ninny! Ay, that was all she cared -for! Philip's hand clenched slowly on his snuff-box.</p> - -<p>"Aha, Jettan! You have espied the lovely Cleone?"</p> - -<p>Philip turned. Lord Charles Fairfax stood at his elbow.</p> - -<p>"Yes," he said.</p> - -<p>"But how stern and forbidding!" exclaimed Fairfax. "What ails you?"</p> - -<p>Philip's mouth lost its hard line.</p> - -<p>"I am struck dumb," he answered gaily. "Can you wonder at it?"</p> - -<p>"So are we all. She is very beautiful, is she not?"</p> - -<p>"Ravishing!" agreed Philip. He saw Cleone's partner lead her to a -chair. "Will you present me?"</p> - -<p>"What! And destroy my own chances? We have heard of your killing ways -with the fair sex!"</p> - -<p>"I protest I have been maligned!" cried Philip. "I do implore your -mercy! Present me!"</p> - -<p>"Against my will, then!" said his lordship roguishly. He walked forward -to where Cleone sat.</p> - -<p>"Mistress Cleone, have you no smile for the humblest of your admirers?"</p> - -<p>Cleone turned her head.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Lord Charles! Give you good even, sir! Do you know you have not -been near me the whole evening? I am monstrous hurt, I assure you!"</p> - -<p>"Dear lady, how was I to come near you?" protested Fairfax. "Until this -moment you have been surrounded."</p> - -<p>Cleone gave a happy little laugh.</p> - -<p>"I am sure 'tis untrue, sir! You delight in teasing me!" Her eyes -wandered past him to Philip.</p> - -<p>Fairfax drew him forward.</p> - -<p>"Mistress Cleone, may I present one who is newly come from Paris, and -is, he swears, struck dumb by your beauty? Mr. Jettan, of whom we all -know some naughty tales!"</p> - -<p>The colour drained from Cleone's cheeks. She felt faint all at once, -and her fingers gripped together over her fan. For one moment she -thought she must be mistaken. This was not Philip, this foppish -gentleman who stood bowing so profoundly! Heavens, he was speaking! It -<i>was</i> Philip! How could she mistake that square chin?</p> - -<p>"Mademoiselle, this is a scarce-hoped-for honour," he said. "I have -watched and I have hungered. Lord Charles took pity on me, for which I -shall never cease to thank him."</p> - -<p>Cleone tried to answer, and failed. Dazedly she stared at him, from -the powdered curls of his wig to the diamond buckles on his shoes. -Philip! <i>Philip!</i> Philip in stiff silks and laces! Philip patched and -painted! Philip with jewels scattered about his person, and polished -nails! Was she dreaming? This foppish gentleman her blunt Philip? It -was incredible, impossible! What was he saying now?</p> - -<p>"I little thought to find you here, mademoiselle! You are with Madame -Charteris, no doubt?"</p> - -<p>Cleone collected her scattered wits. An awful numbness was stealing -over her.</p> - -<p>"No, I—I am with my aunt, Lady Malmerstoke," she answered.</p> - -<p>"Lady Malmerstoke?..." Philip raised his quizzing-glass with one -delicate white hand, and through it scanned the room. "Ah yes, the lady -in the apple-green toilette! I remember her well, that lady."</p> - -<p>"Oh—do you—do you know her?" asked Cleone. She could not drag her -eyes from his face.</p> - -<p>"I had the felicity of meeting her some nights ago. I forget where."</p> - -<p>"R—really?" Cleone decided that this was a nightmare.</p> - -<p>Philip sat down beside her.</p> - -<p>"You have been long in town, mademoiselle? You find all this very -fatiguing, no doubt?" He waved a languid hand.</p> - -<p>Indignation was dispersing the numbness. How dared Philip drawl at her -like this? How dared he behave as though they were strangers?</p> - -<p>"I have been in London nigh on a month. I do not find it fatiguing at -all. I enjoy it."</p> - -<p>Slowly the straight brows rose.</p> - -<p>"But how refreshing!" said Philip. "When everyone is <i>ennuyé</i> à -<i>l'agonie</i>, how delightful to meet one who frankly enjoys." He looked -at her admiringly. "And enjoyment becomes you better than boredom -becomes other women."</p> - -<p>Cleone felt that she was drifting further and further into the -nightmare.</p> - -<p>"I am happy to find favour in your eyes, sir. When did you return from -Paris?"</p> - -<p>"A fortnight since. In a fog which chilled me to the marrow. Almost I -fled back to France. But now"—he bowed gracefully—"I thank a kindly -Fate which forbade me to retreat thus precipitately."</p> - -<p>"Indeed?" said Cleone tartly. "How do you find Sir Maurice?"</p> - -<p>"As yet I have not found him," replied Philip. There was a laugh at the -back of his eyes. How dared he laugh at her? "I have written to beg him -to honour my house with his presence."</p> - -<p>"You do not propose to go to him?" Cleone's voice trembled.</p> - -<p>Philip started.</p> - -<p>"Mademoiselle speaks <i>en plaisantant</i>? The country in this weather?" He -shuddered.</p> - -<p>"I see," said Cleone, and thought that she spoke the truth. Her foot -tapped the ground angrily. Philip eyed it through his glass.</p> - -<p>"That little foot ..." he said softly. It was withdrawn. "Ah, cruel! It -inspired me with—I think—a madrigal. Cased in silver satin.... Ah!"</p> - -<p>"It pleases you to make merry of my foot, sir?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Jamais de ma vie!</i>" Philip threw out his hands. "It is neither food -for merriment nor sighs. It is food for pure joy. My eye, <i>chère -mademoiselle</i>, is susceptible to beauty, be it beauty of face, or -beauty of foot; the eye whispers to the brain, and a madrigal blossoms. -I dare swear you have listened to an hundred such? Everywhere I have -heard tell of your conquests until I am nigh dead with jealousy."</p> - -<p>"How very absurd!" tittered Cleone.</p> - -<p>"Absurd? Ah, if I could think that!"</p> - -<p>"I do not understand you, sir!"</p> - -<p>"I can only beg that I, too, may worship at those little feet."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Jettan, I can only beg that you will cease to make yourself -ridiculous."</p> - -<p>"If it is ridiculous to adore, then must I refuse to obey you, fairest. -For the sake of one smile, all would I do, save that which is without -my power."</p> - -<p>Cleone's eyes glittered.</p> - -<p>"You have become very adept at flattery, sir."</p> - -<p>"But no! Flattery shall never be among my accomplishments, even were it -necessary, which here"—he smiled ardently—"it most assuredly is not."</p> - -<p>"You surprise me, sir! I thought Paris to be the home of flattery."</p> - -<p>"<i>On l'a diffamée.</i> Paris teaches appreciation."</p> - -<p>"La!" Cleone, too, could be affected. "You go too deep for me, Mr. -Jettan! I fear I am no match for your wit. I am but newly come from the -country." The words bit.</p> - -<p>"It is almost inconceivable," he said, studying her with the air of a -connoisseur.</p> - -<p>"Almost as inconceivable as the fact that little more than six months -ago you despised all this!" She made a gesture with her fan towards his -shimmering coat.</p> - -<p>"Was it only six months? It seems to belong to another life. You -remember so well, mademoiselle."</p> - -<p>"I?" Cleone saw her mistake, and made haste to cover it. "No, sir. It -is dear Sir Maurice who remembers." Her eyes sought his face for some -change of expression. But not an eyelash flickered; Mr. Jettan was -still smiling.</p> - -<p>"Now I am desolated!" he sighed. "Mademoiselle Cleone does not remember -the manner of my going? But I see that it is so. She is blessed with -forgetfulness."</p> - -<p>Cleone's heart leaped. Was there a note of <i>pique</i>, of hurt, in the -smooth voice?</p> - -<p>"My memory is not of the longest either, mademoiselle, but I am sure -that I am indebted to you."</p> - -<p>"Really? I think you must be mistaken, sir."</p> - -<p>"It is possible," he bowed. "Yet I seem to recollect that 'twas you who -bade me go—to learn to be a gentleman."</p> - -<p>Cleone laughed carelessly.</p> - -<p>"Did I?—It is so long ago, I have forgotten. And—and here is Mr. -Winton come to claim me!"</p> - -<p>Philip glanced round quickly. Young James Winton was threading his way -towards them. Philip sprang up.</p> - -<p>"James!" He held out his hands to the puzzled youth. "You have -forgotten, James? And it is, so Mademoiselle tells me, but six months -since I saw you every day."</p> - -<p>Winton stared. Then suddenly he grasped Philip's jewelled hand.</p> - -<p>"Jettan—Philip! Merciful heavens, man, is it indeed you?"</p> - -<p>"He is quite transformed, is he not?" said Cleone lightly. A little -barb was piercing her heart that Philip should show such pleasure at -seeing James, and merely bored affectation with her.</p> - -<p>Philip's gay laugh rang out.</p> - -<p>"I shall write a sonnet in melancholy vein," he promised. "A sonnet to -"Friends Who Knew Me Not." It will be a <i>chef-d'œuvre</i>, and I shall -send it you tied with a sprig of myrtle."</p> - -<p>Winton stepped back the better to observe him.</p> - -<p>"Thunder and turf, tis marvellous! What's this about a sonnet? Don't -tell me ye have turned poet!"</p> - -<p>"In Paris they do not love my verses," mourned Philip. "They would say, -'No, <i>le petit Philippe se trompe</i>.' But you shall see! Where are you -staying?"</p> - -<p>"With Darchit—in Jermyn Street. I came to London in my lady's train." -He bowed to Cleone.</p> - -<p>Philip's eyes narrowed.</p> - -<p>"Aha! James, you will come to a card-party that I am giving to-morrow? -I am at 14 Curzon Street."</p> - -<p>"Thank you very much, I shall be delighted. Have you set up a house of -your own?"</p> - -<p>"Sir Humphrey Grandcourt has hired his house to me for a month or so. -My <i>ménage</i> will amuse you. I am ruled by my valet, the redoubtable -François."</p> - -<p>"A French valet!"</p> - -<p>"But yes! He would allow no English servant to insult me with his -boorishness, so I have his cousin for <i>chef</i>." He threw a laughing -glance at Cleone. "You would smile, Mademoiselle, could you but hear -his so fierce denunciation of the English race."</p> - -<p>Cleone forced a laugh.</p> - -<p>"I suppose he does not regard you as English, Mr. Jettan?"</p> - -<p>"If I suggest such a thing he accuses me of mocking him. Ah, there is -Miss Florence who beckons me! Mademoiselle will excuse me?" He bowed -with a great flourish. "I shall hope to be allowed to wait on madame, -your aunt. James, do not forget! To-morrow at 14 Curzon Street!" He -swept round on his heel and went quickly to where Mistress Florence -Farmer was seated. Cleone watched him kiss the lady's plump hand, and -saw the ogling glances that Florence sent him. Desperately she sought -to swallow the lump in her throat. She started to flirt with the -adoring James. Out of the corner of his eye Philip watched her.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Scalding tears dropped on to Cleone's pillow that night. Philip had -returned, indifferent, <i>blasé</i>, even scornful! Philip who had once -loved her so dearly, Philip who had once been so strong and masterful, -was now a dainty, affected Court gallant. Why, why had she sent him -away? And, oh, how dared he treat her with that mocking admiration? -Suddenly Cleone sat up.</p> - -<p>"I hate him!" she told the bed-post. "I hate him, and hate him, and -hate him."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Philip was smiling when François disrobed him, a smile that held much -of tenderness.</p> - -<p>"<i>Cela marche</i>," decided François. "I go to have a mistress."</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="Thirteen" id="Thirteen"><span class="smcap">Thirteen</span></a><br /> -<span class="smcap">Sir Maurice Comes to Town</span></h2> - - -<p>A tall gentleman rang the bell of Mr. Thomas Jettan's house with some -vigour. The door was presently opened by the depressed Moggat.</p> - -<p>"Where's your master, Moggat?" demanded the visitor abruptly.</p> - -<p>Moggat held the door wide.</p> - -<p>"In the library, sir. Will you step inside?"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice swept in. He gave his cloak and hat to Moggat and walked -to the library door. Moggat watched him somewhat fearfully. It was not -often that Sir Maurice showed signs of perturbation.</p> - -<p>"By the way—" Sir Maurice paused, looking back. "My baggage follows -me."</p> - -<p>"Very good, sir."</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice opened the door and disappeared.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Thomas was seated at his desk, but at the sound of the opening door he -turned.</p> - -<p>"Why, Maurry!" He sprang up. "Gad, this is a surprise! How are ye, -lad?" He wrung his brother's hand.</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice flung a sheet of paper on to the table.</p> - -<p>"What the devil's the meaning of <i>that</i>?" he demanded.</p> - -<p>"Why the heat?" asked the surprised Thomas.</p> - -<p>"Read that—that impertinence!" ordered Sir Maurice.</p> - -<p>Tom picked up the paper and spread it open. At sight of the writing he -smiled.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Philip!" he remarked.</p> - -<p>"Philip? Philip write me that letter? It's no more Philip than—than a -cock-robin!"</p> - -<p>Tom sat down.</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes it is!" he said. "I recognise his hand. Now don't tramp up -and down like that, Maurry! Sit down!" He glanced down the sheet and -smothered a laugh.</p> - -<p>"'My very dear Papa,'" he read aloud. "'I do trust that you are -enjoying your Customary Good Health and that these fogs and bitter -winds have not permeated so far as to Little Fittledean. As you will -observe by the above written address, I have returned to this most -barbarous land. For how long I shall allow myself to be persuaded to -remain I cannot tell you, but after the affinity of Paris and the charm -of the Parisians, London is quite insupportable. But for the present -I remain, <i>malgré tout</i>. You will forgive me, I know, that I do not -come to visit you at the Pride. The mere thought of the country at this -season fills me with incalculable dismay. So I suggest, dear Father, -that you honour me by enlivening with your presence this house that I -have acquired from Sir Humphrey Grandcourt. Some small entertainment I -can promise you, and my friends assure me that the culinary efforts of -my <i>chef</i> are beyond compare. An exaggeration, believe me, which one -who has tasted the wonders of a Paris <i>cuisine</i> will easily descry. -I have to convey to you the compliments of M. de Château-Banvau and -others. I would write more but that I am in labour with an ode. -Believe me, Dear Father, thy most devoted, humble, and obedient -son,—<span class="smcap">PHILIPPE</span>.'" Tom folded the paper. "Very proper," he -remarked. "What's amiss?"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice had stalked to the window. Now he turned.</p> - -<p>"What's amiss? Everything's amiss! That Philip—my son Philip!—should -write me a—an impertinent letter like that! It's—it's monstrous!"</p> - -<p>"For God's sake, sit down, Maurry! You're as bad as Philip himself for -restlessness! Now I take this as a very dutiful, filial letter."</p> - -<p>"Dutiful be damned!" snorted Sir Maurice. "Has the boy no other -feelings than he shows in that letter? Why did he not come down to see -me?"</p> - -<p>Tom re-opened the letter.</p> - -<p>"The mere thought of the country at this season appalled him. What's -wrong with that? You have said the same."</p> - -<p>"I? I? What matters it what I should have said? I thought Philip cared -for me! He trusts I will enliven his house with my presence! I'm more -like to break my stick across his back!"</p> - -<p>"Not a whit," said Tom, cheerfully. "You sent Philip away to acquire -polish, and I don't know what besides. He has obeyed you. Is it likely -that, being what he now is, he'll fly back to the country? What's the -matter with you, Maurice? Are you grumbling because he has obeyed your -behests?"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice sank on to the couch.</p> - -<p>"If you but knew how I have missed him and longed for him," he began, -and checked himself. "I am well served," he said bitterly. "I should -have been content to have him as he was."</p> - -<p>"So I thought at the time, but I've changed my opinion."</p> - -<p>"I cannot bear to think of Philip as being callous, flippant, and—a -mere fop!"</p> - -<p>"'Twould be your own fault if he were," said Tom severely. "But he's -not. Something inside him has blossomed forth. Philip is now pure joy."</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice grunted.</p> - -<p>"It's true, lad. That letter—oh, ay! He's a young rascal, but 'twas -to avenge his injured feelings, I take it. He was devilish hurt when -you and Cleone sent him away betwixt you. He's still hurt that you -should have done it. I can't fathom the workings of his mind, but he -assures me they are very complex. He is glad that you sent him, but he -wants you to be sorry. Or rather, Cleone. The lad is very forgiving -to you"—Tom laughed—"but that letter is a piece of devilry—he has -plenty of it, I warn you! He hoped you'd be as angry as you are and -wish your work undone. There's no lack of affection."</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice looked up.</p> - -<p>"He's—the same Philip?"</p> - -<p>"Never think it! In a way he's the same, but there's more of him—ay, -and a score of affectations. In about ten minutes"—he glanced at the -clock—"he'll be here. So you'll see for yourself."</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice straightened himself. He sighed.</p> - -<p>"An old fool, eh, Tom? But it cut me to the quick, that letter."</p> - -<p>"Of course it did, the young devil! Oh, Maurry, Maurry, ye never saw -the like of our Philip!"</p> - -<p>"Is he so remarkable? I heard about that absurd duel, as I told you. -There'll be a reckoning between him and Cleone."</p> - -<p>"Ay. That's what I don't understand. The pair of them are playing -a queer game. Old Sally Malmerstoke told me that Cleone vows she -hates Philip. The chit is flirting outrageously with every man who -comes—always under Philip's nose. And Philip laughs. Yet I'll swear -he means to have her. I don't interfere. They must work out their own -quarrel."</p> - -<p>"Clo doesn't hate Philip," said Sir Maurice. "She was pining for him -until that fool Bancroft read us Satterthwaite's letter. Was it true -that Philip fought over some French hussy?"</p> - -<p>"No, over Clo herself. But he says naught, and if the truth were told, -I believe it's because he has had <i>affaires</i> in Paris, even if that was -not one. He's too dangerously popular."</p> - -<p>"So it seemed from Satterthwaite's account. Is he so popular? I cannot -understand it."</p> - -<p>"He's novel, y'see. I'd a letter from Château-Banvau the other day, -mourning the loss of <i>ce cher petit</i> Philippe, and demanding whether he -had found his heart or no!"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice drove his cane downwards.</p> - -<p>"By Gad, if Philip's so great a success, it's—it's more than ever I -expected," he ended lamely.</p> - -<p>"Wait till you see him!" smiled Thomas. "The boy's for all the world -like a bit o' quicksilver. He splutters out French almost every time he -opens his mouth, and—here he is!"</p> - -<p>A door banged loudly outside, and a clear, crisp voice floated into the -library from the hall.</p> - -<p>"<i>Mordieu</i>, what a climate! Moggat, you rogue, am I not depressed -enough without your glum face to make me more so? Smile, <i>vieux -crétin</i>, for the love of God!"</p> - -<p>"Were I to call Moggat one-half of the names Philip bestows on him, -he'd leave me," remarked Tom. "With him, Philip can do no wrong. Now -what's to do?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Doucement, malheureux!</i> Gently, I say! Do you wish to pull my arms -off with the coat? <i>Ah, voilà!</i> Spread it to dry, Moggat, and take care -not to crease it. Yes, that is well!"</p> - -<p>Then came Moggat's voice, very self-conscious.</p> - -<p>"<i>C'est comme moosoo désire?</i>"</p> - -<p>There was a sound of hand-clapping, and an amused laugh.</p> - -<p>"<i>Voyons, c'est fameux!</i> Quite the French scholar, eh, Moggat? Where's -my uncle? In the library?"</p> - -<p>Came a quick step across the hall. Philip swirled into the room.</p> - -<p>"Much have I borne in silence, Tom, but this rain—" He broke off. The -next moment he was on one knee before his father, Sir Maurice's thin -hands pressed to his lips. "Father!"</p> - -<p>Tom coughed and walked to the window.</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice drew his hands away. He took Philip's chin in his long -fingers and forced his head up. Silently he scrutinised his son's face. -Then he smiled.</p> - -<p>"You patched and painted puppy-dog," he mimicked softly.</p> - -<p>Philip laughed. His hands found Sir Maurice's again and gripped hard.</p> - -<p>"Alack, too true! Father, you're looking older."</p> - -<p>"Impudent young scapegrace! What would you? I have but one son."</p> - -<p>"And you missed him?"</p> - -<p>"A little," acknowledged Sir Maurice.</p> - -<p>Philip rose to his feet.</p> - -<p>"Ah, but I am glad! And you are sorry you sent him away?"</p> - -<p>"Not now. But when I received this—very." Sir Maurice held out the -sheet of paper.</p> - -<p>"That! Bah!" Philip sent it whirling into the fire. "For that I -apologise. If you had not been hurt—oh, heaven knows what I should -have done! Where is your baggage, Father?"</p> - -<p>"Here by now."</p> - -<p>"Here? But no, no! It must go to Curzon Street!"</p> - -<p>"My dear son, I thank you very much, but an old man is better with an -old man."</p> - -<p>Tom wheeled round.</p> - -<p>"What's that? Who are you calling an old man, Maurry? I'm as young as -ever I was!"</p> - -<p>"In any case, it is to Curzon Street that you come, Father."</p> - -<p>"As often as you wish, dear boy, but I'll stay with Tom." Then, as -Philip prepared to argue the point, "No, Philip, my mind is made up. -Sit down and tell me the tale of your ridiculous duel with Bancroft."</p> - -<p>"Oh, that!" Philip laughed. "It was amusing, but scandalous. My -sympathies were with my adversary."</p> - -<p>"And what was the ode you threatened to read?"</p> - -<p>"An ode to importunate friends, especially composed for the occasion. -They took it from me—Paul and Louis—oh, and Henri de Chatelin! They -do not like my verse."</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice lay back in his seat and laughed till the tears ran down -his cheeks.</p> - -<p>"Gad, Philip, but I wish I'd been there! To hear you declaim an ode -of your own making! Faith, is it really my blunt, brusque, impossible -Philip?"</p> - -<p>"Not at all! It is your elegant, smooth, and wholly possible Philip!"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice sat up again.</p> - -<p>"Ah! And does this Philip contemplate marriage?"</p> - -<p>"That," said his son, "is on the knees of the gods."</p> - -<p>"I see. Is it woe unto him who seeks to interfere?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Parfaitement!</i>" bowed Philip. "I play now—a little game."</p> - -<p>"And Cleone?"</p> - -<p>"Cleone ... I don't know. It is what I wish to find out. Lady -Malmerstoke stands my friend."</p> - -<p>"Trust Sally," said Tom.</p> - -<p>Philip's eyes sparkled.</p> - -<p>"Ah, Tom, Tom, art a rogue! Father, he is in love with her ladyship!"</p> - -<p>"He always has been," answered Sir Maurice. "Even before old -Malmerstoke died."</p> - -<p>Tom cleared his throat.</p> - -<p>"I—"</p> - -<p>"Then why do you not wed her?" demanded Philip.</p> - -<p>"She would not. Now she says—perhaps. We are very good friends," he -added contentedly. "I doubt neither of us is at the age when one loves -with heat."</p> - -<p>"Philip, how do you like Paris?" interrupted Sir Maurice.</p> - -<p>"I cannot tell you, sir! My feeling for Paris and my Paris friends is -beyond all words."</p> - -<p>"Ay. I thought the same. But in the end one is glad to come home."</p> - -<p>"May it please heaven, then, to make the end far, far away," said -Philip. "When I go back, you will go with me, Father."</p> - -<p>"Ah, I am too old for that now," answered Sir Maurice. He smiled -reminiscently.</p> - -<p>"Too old? <i>Quelle absurdité!</i> M. de Château-Banvau has made me swear to -bring you. M. de Richelieu asked when he was to see your face again. A -score—"</p> - -<p>"De Richelieu? Where did you meet him, boy?"</p> - -<p>"At Versailles. He was very kind to me for your sake."</p> - -<p>"Ay, he would be. So you went to Versailles, then!"</p> - -<p>"Often."</p> - -<p>"Philip, I begin to think you are somewhat of a rake. What attracted -you to Versailles?"</p> - -<p>"Many things," parried Philip.</p> - -<p>"Female things?"</p> - -<p>"What curiosity! Sometimes, yes, but not <i>au sérieux</i>."</p> - -<p>"Little Philip without a heart, eh?"</p> - -<p>"Who told you that?" Philip leaned forward.</p> - -<p>"Satterthwaite wrote it, or something like it."</p> - -<p>"<i>Le petit</i> Philippe au <i>Cœur Perdu</i>. Most of them would give their -eyes to know who the fair unknown may be!"</p> - -<p>"Is it still Cleone?" Sir Maurice looked sharply across at him.</p> - -<p>"It has—never been anyone else," answered Philip simply.</p> - -<p>"I am glad. I want you to marry her, Philip."</p> - -<p>"Sir," said Philip superbly, "I have every intention of so doing."</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="Fourteen" id="Fourteen"><span class="smcap">Fourteen</span></a><br /> -<span class="smcap">The Strange Behaviour of Mistress Cleone</span></h2> - - -<p>"François, there is one below who desires m'sieu."</p> - -<p>François shook out a fine lace ruffle.</p> - -<p>"<i>Qui est-ce?</i>"</p> - -<p>"<i>Le père de M'sieur</i>," answered Jacques gloomily.</p> - -<p>François cast the ruffle aside.</p> - -<p>"<i>Le père de M'sieur!</i> I go at once." He vanished out of the door and -scuttled downstairs to the library. Sir Maurice was startled by his -sudden entrance, and raised his eyeglass the better to observe this -very abrupt, diminutive creature.</p> - -<p>François bowed very low.</p> - -<p>"M'sieu, eet ees zat my mastaire 'e ees wiz hees <i>barbier</i>. Eef m'sieu -would come up to ze chamber of my mastaire?"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice smiled.</p> - -<p>"<i>Assurément. Vous allez marcher en tête?</i>"</p> - -<p>François' face broke into a delighted smile.</p> - -<p>"<i>Ah, m'sieur parle Français! Si m'sieur veut me suivre?</i>"</p> - -<p>"<i>M'sieur veut bien</i>," nodded Sir Maurice. He followed François -upstairs to Philip's luxurious bedroom. François put forward a chair.</p> - -<p>"M'sieur will be graciously pleased to seat himself? M'sieur Philippe -will come very soon. It is the visit of the barber, you understand."</p> - -<p>"A serious matter," agreed Sir Maurice.</p> - -<p>"M'sieur understands well. Me, I am valet of M'sieur Philippe."</p> - -<p>"I had guessed it. You are François?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, m'sieur. It is perhaps that M'sieur Philippe has spoken of me?" -He looked anxiously at Sir Maurice.</p> - -<p>"Certainly he has spoken of you," smiled Sir Maurice.</p> - -<p>"It is perhaps—that he tell you I am <i>un petit singe</i>?"</p> - -<p>"No, he said no such thing," answered Sir Maurice gravely. "He told me -he possessed a veritable treasure for a valet."</p> - -<p>"Ah!" François clapped his hands. "It is true, m'sieur. I am a very -good valet—oh, but very good!" He skipped to the bed and picked up an -embroidered satin vest. This he laid over a chair-back.</p> - -<p>"The vest of M'sieur Philippe," he said reverently.</p> - -<p>"So I see," said Sir Maurice. "What's he doing, lying abed so late?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Ah, non, m'sieur!</i> He does not lie abed late! Oh, but never, never. -It is that the barber is here, and the tailor—imbeciles, both! They -put M'sieur Philippe in a bad humour with their so terrible stupidity. -He spends an hour explaining what it is that he wishes." François cast -up his eyes. "And they do not understand, no! They are of so great a -density! M'sieur Philippe he become much enraged, naturally."</p> - -<p>"Monsieur Philippe is very particular, eh?"</p> - -<p>François beamed. He was opening various pots in readiness for his -master.</p> - -<p>"Yes, m'sieur. M'sieur Philippe must have everything just as he likes -it."</p> - -<p>At that moment Philip walked in, wrapped in a gorgeous silk robe, and -looking thunderous. When he saw his father his brow cleared.</p> - -<p>"You, sir? Have you waited long?"</p> - -<p>"No, only ten minutes or so. Have you strangled the tailor?"</p> - -<p>Philip laughed.</p> - -<p>"<i>De près! François</i>, I will be alone with M'sieur."</p> - -<p>François bowed. He went out with his usual hurried gait.</p> - -<p>Philip sat down before his dressing-table.</p> - -<p>"What do you think of the incomparable François?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"He startled me at first," smiled Sir Maurice. "A droll little -creature."</p> - -<p>"But quite inimitable. You're out early this morning, sir?"</p> - -<p>"My dear Philip, it is close on noon! I have been to see Cleone."</p> - -<p>Philip picked up a nail-polisher and passed it gently across his -fingers.</p> - -<p>"Ah?"</p> - -<p>"Philip, I am worried."</p> - -<p>"Yes?" Philip was intent on his nails. "And why?"</p> - -<p>"I don't understand the child! I could have sworn she was dying for you -to return!"</p> - -<p>Philip glanced up quickly.</p> - -<p>"That is true?"</p> - -<p>"I thought so. At home—yes, I am certain of it! But now she seems -a changed being." He frowned, looking at his son. Philip was again -occupied with his hands. "She is in excellent spirits; she tells me -that she enjoys every moment of every day. She was in ecstasies! I -spoke of you and she was quite indifferent. What have you done to make -her so, Philip?"</p> - -<p>"I do not quite know. I have become what she would have had me. To test -her, I aped the mincing extravagance of the typical town-gallant. She -was surprised at first, and then angry. That pleased me. I thought: -Cleone does not like the thing I am; she would prefer the real me. -Then I waited on Lady Malmerstoke. Cleone was there. She was, as you -say, quite changed. I suppose she was charming; it did not seem so to -me. She laughed and flirted with her fan; she encouraged me to praise -her beauty; she demanded the madrigal I had promised her. When I read -it she was delighted. She asked her aunt if I were not a dreadful, -flattering creature. Then came young Winton, who is, I take it, -<i>amoureux à en perdre la tête</i>. To him she was all smiles, behaving -like some Court miss. Since then she has always been the same. She is -kind to every man who comes her way, and to me. You say you do not -understand? Nor do I. She is not the Cleone I knew, and not the Cleone -I love. She makes herself as—Clothilde de Chaucheron. <i>Charmante, -spirituelle</i>, one to whom a man makes trifling love, but not the one a -man will wed." He spoke quietly, and with none of his usual sparkle.</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice leaned forward, striking his fist on his knee.</p> - -<p>"But she is not that type of woman, Philip! That's what I can't -understand!"</p> - -<p>Philip shrugged slightly.</p> - -<p>"She is not, you say? I wonder now whether that is so. She flirted -before, you remember, with Bancroft."</p> - -<p>"Ay! To tease you!"</p> - -<p>"<i>Cela se peut.</i> This time it is not to tease me. That I know."</p> - -<p>"But, Philip, if it is not for that, why does she do it?"</p> - -<p>"Presumably because she so wishes. It is possible that the adulation -she receives has flown to her head. It is almost as though she sought -to captivate me."</p> - -<p>"Cleone would never do such a thing!"</p> - -<p>"Well, sir, you will see. Come with us this afternoon. Tom and I are -bidden to take a dish of Bohea with her ladyship."</p> - -<p>"Sally has already asked me. I shall certainly come. <i>Mordieu</i>, what -ails the child?"</p> - -<p>Philip rubbed some rouge on to his cheeks.</p> - -<p>"If you can tell me the answer to that riddle, sir, I shall—thank you."</p> - -<p>"You do care, Philip? Still?" He watched Philip pick up the haresfoot -with fingers that trembled a little.</p> - -<p>"Care?" said Philip. "I—yes, sir. I care—greatly."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Lady Malmerstoke glanced critically at her niece.</p> - -<p>"You are very gay, Clo," she remarked.</p> - -<p>"Gay?" cried Cleone. "How could I be sober, Aunt Sally? I am enjoying -myself so much!"</p> - -<p>Lady Malmerstoke pushed a bracelet farther up one plump arm.</p> - -<p>"H'm!" she said. "It's very unfashionable, my dear, not to say -<i>bourgeois</i>."</p> - -<p>"Oh, fiddle!" answered Cleone. "Who thinks that?"</p> - -<p>"I really don't know. It is what one says. To be in the mode you must -be fatigued to death."</p> - -<p>"Then I am not in the mode," laughed Cleone. "Don't forget, Aunt, that -I am but a simple country-maid!" She swept a mock curtsey.</p> - -<p>"No," said her ladyship placidly. "One is not like to forget it."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?" demanded Cleone.</p> - -<p>"Don't eat me," sighed her aunt. "'Tis your principal charm—freshness."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" said Cleone doubtfully.</p> - -<p>"Or it was," added Lady Malmerstoke, folding her hands and closing her -eyes.</p> - -<p>"Was! Aunt Sally, I insist that you tell me what it is you mean!"</p> - -<p>"My love, you know very well what I mean."</p> - -<p>"No, I do not! I—I—Aunt Sally, wake up!"</p> - -<p>Her ladyship's brown eyes opened.</p> - -<p>"Well, my dear, if you must have it, 'tis this—you make yourself cheap -by your flirtatious ways."</p> - -<p>Cleone's cheeks flamed.</p> - -<p>"I—oh, I don't f—flirt! I—Auntie, how can you say so?"</p> - -<p>"Quite easily," said her ladyship. "Else had I left it unsaid. Since -this Mr. Philip Jettan has returned you have acquired all the tricks of -the sex. I do not find it becoming in you, but mayhap I am wrong."</p> - -<p>"It has nothing to do with Ph—Mr. Jettan!"</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon, my dear, I thought it had. But if you wish to -attract him—"</p> - -<p>"Aunt!" almost shrieked Cleone.</p> - -<p>"I wish you would not interrupt," complained Lady Malmerstoke wearily. -"I said if you wish to attract him you should employ less obvious -methods."</p> - -<p>"H—how <i>dare</i> you, Aunt Sally! I wish to attract him? I hate him! I -hate the very sight of him!"</p> - -<p>The sleepy brown eyes grew more alert.</p> - -<p>"Is that the way the wind lies?" murmured Lady Malmerstoke. "What's he -done?" she added, ever practical.</p> - -<p>"He hasn't done anything. He—I—"</p> - -<p>"Then what hasn't he done?"</p> - -<p>"Aunt Sally—Aunt Sally—you—I won't answer! He—nothing at all! 'Tis -merely that I do not like him."</p> - -<p>"It's not apparent in your manner," remarked her ladyship. "Are you -determined that he shall fall in love with you?"</p> - -<p>"Of course I never thought of such a thing! I—why should I?"</p> - -<p>"For the pleasure of seeing him at your feet, and then kicking him -away. Revenge, my love, revenge."</p> - -<p>"How dare you say such things, Aunt! It—it isn't true!"</p> - -<p>Lady Malmerstoke continued to pursue her own line of thought.</p> - -<p>"From all I can see of this Philip, he's not the man to be beaten by a -chit of a girl. I think he is in love with you. Have a care, my dear. -Men with chins like his are not safe. I've had experience, and I know. -He'll win in the end, if he has a mind to do so."</p> - -<p>"Mind!" Cleone was scornful. "He has no mind above clothes or poems!"</p> - -<p>Lady Malmerstoke eyed her lazily.</p> - -<p>"Who told you that, Clo?"</p> - -<p>"No one. I can see for myself."</p> - -<p>"There is nothing blinder than a very young woman," philosophised her -ladyship. "One lives and one learns. Your Philip—"</p> - -<p>"He isn't my Philip!" cried Cleone, nearly in tears.</p> - -<p>"You put me out," complained her aunt. "Your Philip is no fool. He's -dangerous. On account of that chin, you understand. Don't have him, my -dear; he's one of your masterful men. They are the worst; old Jeremy -Fletcher was like that. Dear me, what years ago that was!"</p> - -<p>"He—he's no more masterful than—than his uncle!"</p> - -<p>"No, thank heaven, Tom's an easy-going creature," agreed her aunt. "A -pity Philip is not the same."</p> - -<p>"But I tell you he is! If—if he were more masterful I should like him -better! I like a man to be a man and not—a—a pranked-out doll!"</p> - -<p>"How you have changed!" sighed her aunt. "I thought that was just what -you did not want. Didn't you send your Philip away to become a beau?"</p> - -<p>"He is not my Philip—Aunt! I—no, of course I did—didn't. And if -I d-did, it was very st-stupid of me, and now I'd rather have a—a -masterful man."</p> - -<p>"Ay, we're all like that in our youth," nodded her aunt. "When you -grow older you'll appreciate the milder sort. I nearly married Jerry -Fletcher. Luckily I changed my mind and had Malmerstoke. God rest his -soul, poor fellow! Now I shall have Tom, I suppose."</p> - -<p>Cleone broke into a hysterical laugh.</p> - -<p>"Aunt, you are incorrigible! How can you talk so?"</p> - -<p>"Dreadful, isn't it? But I was always like that. Very attractive, -you know. I never was beautiful, but I made a great success. I quite -shocked my poor mother. But it was all a pose, of course. It made -me noticed. I was so amusing and novel—like you, my love, but in a -different way. All a pose."</p> - -<p>"Why, is it still a pose, Aunt?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, now it's a habit. So much less fatiguing, my dear. But to return -to what I was saying, you—"</p> - -<p>"Don't—don't let's talk—about me," begged Cleone unsteadily. -"I—hardly know what possesses me, but—Oh, there's the bell!"</p> - -<p>Lady Malmerstoke dragged herself up.</p> - -<p>"Already? Clo, is my wig on straight? Drat the men, I've not had a wink -of sleep the whole afternoon. A nice hag I shall look to-night. Which -of them is it, my dear?"</p> - -<p>Cleone was peering out of the window.</p> - -<p>"'Tis James and Jennifer, Aunt." She came back into the room. "It seems -an age since I saw Jenny."</p> - -<p>Lady Malmerstoke studied herself in her little mirror.</p> - -<p>"Is she the child who lives down in the country?"</p> - -<p>"Yes—Jenny Winton, such a sweet little thing. She has come up with Mr. -Winton for a few weeks. I am so glad she managed to induce him to bring -her!" Cleone ran forward as the two Wintons were ushered in. "Jenny, -dear!"</p> - -<p>Jennifer was half a head shorter than Cleone, a shy child with soft -grey eyes and mouse-coloured hair. She flung her arms round Cleone's -neck.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Clo, how prodigious elegant you look!" she whispered.</p> - -<p>"And oh, Jenny, how pretty you look!" retorted Cleone. "Aunt Sally, -this is my dear Jennifer!"</p> - -<p>Jennifer curtseyed.</p> - -<p>"How do you do, ma'am?" she said in a voice fluttering with nervousness.</p> - -<p>"I am very well, child. Come and sit down beside me." She patted the -couch invitingly. "Is this your first visit to town, my dear?"</p> - -<p>Jennifer sat down on the edge of the couch. She stole an awed glance at -Lady Malmerstoke's powdered wig.</p> - -<p>"Yes, ma'am. It is so exciting."</p> - -<p>"I'll warrant it is! And have you been to many balls, yet?"</p> - -<p>"N-no." The little face clouded over. "Papa does not go out very much," -she explained.</p> - -<p>Cleone sank on to a stool beside them, her silks swirling about her.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Auntie, please take Jenny to the Dering ball next week!" she said -impulsively. "You will come, won't you, sweet?"</p> - -<p>Jennifer blushed and stammered.</p> - -<p>"To be sure," nodded her ladyship. "Of course she will come! James, -sit down! You should know by now how the sight of anyone on their -feet fatigues me, silly boy! Dear me, child, how like you are to your -brother! Are you looking at my wig? Monstrous, isn't it?"</p> - -<p>Jennifer was covered with confusion.</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, ma'am, I—"</p> - -<p>Her ladyship chuckled.</p> - -<p>"Of course you were. How could you help it? Cleone tells me it is a -ridiculous creation, don't you, my love?"</p> - -<p>"I do, and I truly think it!" answered Cleone, her eyes dancing. "'Tis -just a little more impossible than the last."</p> - -<p>"There!" Lady Malmerstoke turned back to Jennifer. "She is an -impertinent hussy, is she not?"</p> - -<p>"Could she be impertinent?" asked James fondly.</p> - -<p>"Very easily she could, and is," nodded her ladyship. "A minx."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" Jennifer was shocked.</p> - -<p>"Don't attend to her!" besought Cleone. "Sometimes she is very -ill-natured, as you see."</p> - -<p>Jennifer ventured a very small laugh. She had resolutely dragged her -eyes from the prodigious wig, and was now gazing at Cleone.</p> - -<p>"You—you seem quite different," she told her.</p> - -<p>Cleone shook her golden head.</p> - -<p>"'Tis only that Aunt Sally has tricked me out in fine clothes," she -replied. "I'm—oh, I am the same!" she laughed, but not very steadily. -"Am I not, James?"</p> - -<p>"Always the same," he said ardently. "Always beautiful."</p> - -<p>"I will not have it," said Lady Malmerstoke severely. "You'll turn the -child's head, if 'tis not turned already."</p> - -<p>"Oh, it is, it is!" cried Cleone. "I am quite too dreadfully vain! And -there is the bell again! James, who is it? It's vastly bad-mannered to -peep, but you may do it. Quick!"</p> - -<p>James went to the window.</p> - -<p>"Too late," he said. "They are in, whoever they are."</p> - -<p>"'Twill be Thomas," decided Lady Malmerstoke. "I wonder if he is any -fatter?"</p> - -<p>Jennifer giggled. She had never met anything quite like this queer, -voluminous old lady before.</p> - -<p>"Is—is Sir Maurice coming?" she inquired.</p> - -<p>"I told him to be sure to come," answered her ladyship. "You know him, -don't you?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes!" breathed Jennifer.</p> - -<p>"Sah Maurice and Mr. Jettan," announced the little black page.</p> - -<p>"Drat!" said her ladyship. She rose. "Where's your son?" she demanded, -shaking her finger at Sir Maurice.</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice kissed her hand.</p> - -<p>"Sally, you grow ruder and ruder," he reproved her.</p> - -<p>"Maurice," she retorted, "you were ever a punctilious ramrod. Philip's -the only one of you I want to see. He says such audacious things," she -explained. "So gratifying to an old woman. Well, Tom?"</p> - -<p>Thomas bowed very low.</p> - -<p>"Well, Sally?"</p> - -<p>"That's not polite," she said. "You can see I am very well. I declare -you are growing thinner!"</p> - -<p>Thomas drew himself up sheepishly.</p> - -<p>"Am I, my dear?"</p> - -<p>Her ladyship gave a little crow of delight.</p> - -<p>"You've been taking exercise!" she exclaimed. "If you continue at this -rate—I vow I'll marry you in a month!"</p> - -<p>"I wish you would, my dear," said Tom seriously.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I shall one day, never fear!" She caught sight of Jennifer's -astonished expression and chuckled. "Now, Tom, behave yourself! You are -shocking the child!" she whispered.</p> - -<p>"I? What have I done? She's shocked at your forwardness!"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice had walked over to Cleone. She held out her hands, and he -made as if to kiss them. She snatched them back.</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, no!" she cried. "Sir Maurice!"</p> - -<p>He smiled down at her upturned face.</p> - -<p>"In truth, my dear, you've so changed from the little Cleone I know -that I dare take no liberties."</p> - -<p>Her mouth quivered suddenly; she caught at the lapels of his coat.</p> - -<p>"No, no, don't say it, sir! I am the same! Oh, I am, I am!"</p> - -<p>"What's Cleone doing?" inquired Lady Malmerstoke. "Kissing Maurice? Now -who's forward?"</p> - -<p>Cleone smiled through her tears.</p> - -<p>"You are, Aunt Sally. And you are in a very teasing humour!"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice pressed her hands gently. He turned to the curtseying -Jennifer.</p> - -<p>"Why, Jenny? This is a surprise! How are you, child?"</p> - -<p>"Very well, I thank you, sir," she answered. "Very happy to be in -London."</p> - -<p>"The first visit! Where are you staying?"</p> - -<p>"With Grandmamma, out at Kensington," she said.</p> - -<p>Lady Malmerstoke clutched Tom's arm.</p> - -<p>"Kensington, poor child!" she murmured. "For heaven's sake everyone sit -down! No, Maurice, that chair is too low for me. I'll take the couch." -She proceeded to do so. As a matter of course, Tom sat down beside -her. The others arranged themselves in two pairs, Sir Maurice leading -Jennifer to a chair near the fire, and Cleone going to the window-seat -with the admiring James.</p> - -<p>Five minutes later the bell rang for the third time, and Jennifer -received the worst shock of the afternoon. The page announced Mr. -Philip Jettan, and Philip came into the room.</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice felt Jennifer's start of surprise, and saw her stare past -him as though she saw at least three ghosts.</p> - -<p>Philip went to his hostess and dropped on one knee to kiss her hand. -He was dressed in puce and old gold. Jennifer thought she had never -seen anything so gorgeous, or so astonishing. She did not believe for a -moment that it was her old playfellow, Philip.</p> - -<p>"Madame, I am late!" said Philip. "I ask a thousand pardons."</p> - -<p>"And you are sure you'll receive them!" chuckled her ladyship. "I'd -give them, but that it would fatigue me so. Where's that ode? Don't -tell me you've forgotten it!"</p> - -<p>"Forgotten it! Never! It is a very beautiful ode, too, in my best -style. <i>Le voici!</i>" He handed her a rolled parchment sheet, tied with -mauve ribbons, and with violets cunningly inserted.</p> - -<p>"You delightful boy!" cried her ladyship, inspecting it. "Violets! How -did you know they were my favourite flowers?"</p> - -<p>"I knew instinctively," answered Philip solemnly.</p> - -<p>"Of course you did! But how charming of you! I declare I daren't untie -it till the violets are dead. Look, Tom, is it not pretty? And isn't -Philip sweet to write me an ode?"</p> - -<p>"I am looking," said Tom gloomily. "Ye rascal, how dare you try to -steal my lady's heart away from me?"</p> - -<p>"I should be more than human an I did not!" replied Philip promptly.</p> - -<p>Lady Malmerstoke was showing the dainty roll to Sir Maurice.</p> - -<p>"An ode to my wig," she told him. "Written in French."</p> - -<p>"An ode to your what?" asked Thomas.</p> - -<p>"My wig, Tom, my wig! You were not here when we discussed it. Cleone -thought it a prodigious ugly wig, but Philip would have none of it. -He said such pretty things about it, and promised me an ode for it! -Philip, did I thank you?"</p> - -<p>Philip was bowing over Cleone's hand. He turned.</p> - -<p>"With your eyes, madame, eloquently! But I need no thanks; it was an -honour and a joy."</p> - -<p>"Think of that!" nodded my lady, looking from Tom to Sir Maurice. -"Philip, come and be presented to Mistress Jennifer. Or do you know -her?"</p> - -<p>Philip released Cleone's hand, and swung round.</p> - -<p>"Jennifer! Of course I know her!" He went across the room. "Why, Jenny, -where do you spring from? How are you?"</p> - -<p>Jennifer gazed up at him with wide eyes.</p> - -<p>"Philip? Is—is it really—you?" she whispered.</p> - -<p>"You didn't know me? Jenny, how unkind! Surely I haven't changed as -much as that?"</p> - -<p>"Y-you have," she averred. "More!"</p> - -<p>"I have not, I swear I have not! Father, go away! Let me sit here and -talk to Jennifer!"</p> - -<p>Only too glad to obey, Sir Maurice rose.</p> - -<p>"He is very peremptory and autocratic, isn't he, my dear?" he smiled.</p> - -<p>Philip sank into the vacated chair.</p> - -<p>"I—I feel I ought to call you Mr. Jettan!" said Jennifer.</p> - -<p>"Jenny! If you dare to do such a thing I shall—I shall—"</p> - -<p>"What will you do?"</p> - -<p>"Write a canzonet to your big eyes!" he laughed.</p> - -<p>Jennifer blushed, and her lips trembled into a smile.</p> - -<p>"Will you really? I should like that, I think, Mr. Jettan."</p> - -<p>"It shall be ready by noon to-morrow," said Philip at once, "if you -will promise not to misname me!"</p> - -<p>"But—"</p> - -<p>"Jenny, I vow I have not changed so much! 'Tis only my silly clothes!"</p> - -<p>"That's—what Clo said when I told her <i>she</i> had changed."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" Philip shot a glance towards the unconscious Cleone. "Did she say -that?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. But I think she has changed, don't you?"</p> - -<p>"<i>De tête en pieds</i>," said Philip slowly.</p> - -<p>"What is that?" Jennifer looked rather alarmed.</p> - -<p>Philip turned back to her.</p> - -<p>"That is a foolish habit, Jenny. They say I chatter French all day. -Which is very affected."</p> - -<p>"French? Do you talk French now? How wonderful!" breathed Jennifer. -"Say something else! Please!"</p> - -<p>"<i>La lumière de tes beaux yeux me pénètre jusqu'au cœur.</i>" He bowed, -smiling.</p> - -<p>"Oh! What does that mean?"</p> - -<p>"It wouldn't be good for you to know," answered Philip gravely.</p> - -<p>"Oh! but I would like to know, I think," she said naïvely.</p> - -<p>"I said that—you have very beautiful eyes."</p> - -<p>"Did you? How—how dreadful of you! And you won't forget the—the -can—can—what you were going to write for me, will you?"</p> - -<p>"The canzonet. No, I think it must be a sonnet. And the flower—alas, -your flower is out of season!"</p> - -<p>"Is it? What is my flower?"</p> - -<p>"A daisy."</p> - -<p>She considered this.</p> - -<p>"I do not like daisies very much. Haven't I another flower?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, a snowdrop."</p> - -<p>"Oh, that is pretty!" She clapped her hands. "Is it too late for -snowdrops?"</p> - -<p>"I defy it to be too late!" said Philip. "You shall have them if I have -to fly to the ends of the earth for them!"</p> - -<p>Jennifer giggled.</p> - -<p>"But you couldn't, could you? Cleone! Cleone!"</p> - -<p>Cleone came across the room.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Jenny? Has Mr. Jettan been saying dreadfully flattering things to -you?"</p> - -<p>"N—yes, I think he has! And he says I must still call him Philip. And -oh! he is going to write a—a sonnet to my eyes, tied with snowdrops! -Mr. J—Philip, what is Cleone's flower?"</p> - -<p>Philip had risen. He put a chair forward for Cleone.</p> - -<p>"Can you ask, Jenny? What but a rose?"</p> - -<p>Cleone sat down. Her lips smiled steadily.</p> - -<p>"A rose? Surely it's a flaunting flower, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Ah, mademoiselle, it must be that you have never seen a rose just -bursting from the bud!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, la! I am overcome, sir! And I have not yet thanked you for the -bouquet you sent me this morning!"</p> - -<p>Philip's eyes travelled to the violets at her breast.</p> - -<p>"I did not send violets," he said mournfully.</p> - -<p>Cleone's eyes flashed.</p> - -<p>"No. These"—she touched the flowers caressingly—"I have from Sir -Deryk Brenderby."</p> - -<p>"He is very fortunate, mademoiselle. Would that I were also!"</p> - -<p>"I think you are, sir. Mistress Ann Nutley wore your carnations -yesterday the whole evening." Cleone found that she was looking -straight into his eyes. Hurriedly she looked away, but a pulse was -beating in her throat. For one fleeting instant she had seen the old -Philip, grave, honest, a little appealing. If only—if only—</p> - -<p>"Mr. Jett—I mean Philip! Will you teach me to say something in French?"</p> - -<p>"Why, of course, <i>chérie</i>. What would you say?"</p> - -<p>The pulse stopped its excited beating; the blue eyes lost their wistful -softness. Cleone turned to James, who stood at her elbow.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="Fifteen" id="Fifteen"><span class="smcap">Fifteen</span></a><br /> -<span class="smcap">Lady Malmerstoke on Husbands</span></h2> - - -<p>"And he brought it himself, yesterday morning, tied with snowdrops. I -don't know how he got them, for they are over, are they not, Clo? But -there they were, with the prettiest verse you can imagine. It said my -eyes were twin pools of grey! Isn't that beautiful?"</p> - -<p>Cleone jerked one shoulder.</p> - -<p>"It is not very original," she said.</p> - -<p>"Don't you like it?" asked Jennifer reproachfully.</p> - -<p>Cleone was ashamed of her flash of ill-humour.</p> - -<p>"Yes, dear, of course I do. So Mr. Jettan brought it to you himself, -did he?"</p> - -<p>"Indeed, yes! And stayed a full hour, talking to Papa and to me. -What do you think? He has begged me to be sure and dance with him on -Wednesday! Is it not kind of him?"</p> - -<p>"Very," said Cleone dully.</p> - -<p>"I cannot imagine why he should want them," Jennifer prattled on. -"Jamie says he is at Mistress Nutley's feet. Is she very lovely, Clo?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. Yes, I suppose she is."</p> - -<p>"Philip is teaching me to speak French. It is so droll, and he laughs -at my accent. Can you speak French, Clo?"</p> - -<p>"A little. No doubt he would laugh at my accent if he ever heard it."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I do not think so! He could not, could he? Clo, I asked if he did -not think you were very beautiful, and he said—"</p> - -<p>"Jenny, you must not ask things like that!"</p> - -<p>"He did not mind! Truly, he did not! He just laughed—he is always -laughing, Clo!—and said that there was no one who did not think so. -Was not that neat?"</p> - -<p>"Very," said Cleone.</p> - -<p>Jennifer drew nearer.</p> - -<p>"Cleone, may I tell you a secret?"</p> - -<p>A fierce pain shot through Cleone.</p> - -<p>"A secret? What is it?" she asked quickly.</p> - -<p>"Why, Clo, how strange you look! 'Tis only that I know James to be in -love with—you!"</p> - -<p>Cleone sank back. She started to laugh from sheer relief.</p> - -<p>"I do not see that it is funny," said Jennifer, hurt.</p> - -<p>"No, no, dear! It—it is not that—I mean, of course, of course, I knew -that James was—was—fond of me."</p> - -<p>"Did you? Oh—oh, are you going to marry him?" Jennifer's voice -squeaked with excitement.</p> - -<p>"Jenny, you ask such dreadful questions! No, I am not."</p> - -<p>"But—but he loves you, Clo! Don't you love him?"</p> - -<p>"Not like that. James only thinks he loves me. He's too young. I—Tell -me about your dress, dear!"</p> - -<p>"For the ball?" Jennifer sat up, nothing loth. "'Tis of white silk—"</p> - -<p>"Sir Deryk Brenderby!"</p> - -<p>Jennifer started.</p> - -<p>"Oh, dear!" she said regretfully.</p> - -<p>A tall, loose-limbed man came in.</p> - -<p>"Fair Mistress Cleone! I am happy, indeed, to have found you in! I kiss -your hands, dear lady!"</p> - -<p>Cleone drew them away, smiling.</p> - -<p>"Mistress Jennifer Winton, Sir Deryk."</p> - -<p>Brenderby seemed to become suddenly aware of Jenny's presence. He -bowed. Jennifer curtseyed demurely, and took refuge behind her friend.</p> - -<p>Sir Deryk lowered himself into a chair.</p> - -<p>"Mistress Cleone, can you guess why I have come?"</p> - -<p>"To see me!" said Cleone archly.</p> - -<p>"That is the obvious, fair tormentor! Another reason had I."</p> - -<p>"The first should be enough, sir," answered Cleone, with downcast eyes.</p> - -<p>"And is, Most Beautiful. But the other reason concerns you also."</p> - -<p>"La! You intrigue me, sir! Pray, what is it?"</p> - -<p>"To beg, on my knees, that you will dance with me on Wednesday!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I don't know!" Cleone shook her head. "I doubt all the dances are -gone."</p> - -<p>"Ah, no, dearest lady! Not all!"</p> - -<p>"Indeed, I think so! I cannot promise anything."</p> - -<p>"But you give me hope?"</p> - -<p>"I will not take it from you," said Cleone. "Perhaps Jennifer will give -you a dance."</p> - -<p>Sir Deryk did not look much elated. But he bowed to Jennifer.</p> - -<p>"May that happiness be mine, madam?"</p> - -<p>"Th—thank you," stammered Jennifer. "If you please!"</p> - -<p>Sir Deryk bowed again and straightway forgot her existence.</p> - -<p>"You wear my primroses, fairest!" he said to Cleone. "I scarce dared to -hope so modest a posy would be so honoured."</p> - -<p>Cleone glanced down at the pale yellow blooms.</p> - -<p>"Oh, are they yours? I had forgot," she said cruelly.</p> - -<p>"Ah, Cleone!"</p> - -<p>Cleone raised her brows.</p> - -<p>"My name, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Mistress Cleone," corrected Brenderby, bowing.</p> - -<p>Lady Malmerstoke chose that moment at which to billow into the room. -She leaned on the arm of one Mr. Jettan.</p> - -<p>"Philip, you are a sad fellow! You do not mean one word of what you -say! Oh, lud! I have chanced on a reception. Give ye good den, Jenny, -my dear. Sir Deryk? Thus early in the morning? I think you know Mr. -Jettan?"</p> - -<p>The two men bowed.</p> - -<p>"I have the pleasure, Lady Malmerstoke," said Brenderby. "I did not see -you last night, Jettan? You were not at Gregory's card-party?"</p> - -<p>"Last night?—last night? No, I was at White's with my father. -Mademoiselle, your very obedient! <i>Et la petite!</i>"</p> - -<p>"<i>Bonjour, monsieur!</i>" ventured Jennifer shyly.</p> - -<p>Philip swept her a leg.</p> - -<p>"<i>Mademoiselle a fait des grands progrès</i>," he said.</p> - -<p>She wrinkled her brow.</p> - -<p>"Great—progress?" she hazarded.</p> - -<p>"Of course! And how is mademoiselle?"</p> - -<p>"Very well, I thank you, sir."</p> - -<p>Lady Malmerstoke sank into a large armchair.</p> - -<p>"Well, I trust I don't intrude?" she remarked. "Clo, where is my -embroidery?" She turned to her guests. "I never set a stitch, of -course. It would fatigue me too much. But it looks industrious to have -it by me, doesn't it?"</p> - -<p>Cleone and Brenderby had walked to the table in search of the missing -embroidery. Cleone looked over her shoulder.</p> - -<p>"You must not believe what she says," she told them. "Aunt Sarah -embroiders beautifully. She is not nearly as lazy as she would have you -think."</p> - -<p>"Not lazy, my love—indolent. A much nicer word. Thank you, my dear." -She received her stitchery and laid it down. "I will tell you all a -secret. Oh, Philip knows! Philip, you need not listen."</p> - -<p>Philip was perched on a chair-arm.</p> - -<p>"A million thanks, Aunt!"</p> - -<p>"That is very unkind of you!" she reproached him. "You tell my secret -before ever I have time to say a word!"</p> - -<p>"<i>Eh bien!</i> You should not have suggested that I did not want to listen -to your voice."</p> - -<p>"When I am, indeed, your aunt, I shall talk to you very seriously about -flattering old women," she said severely.</p> - -<p>Cleone clapped her hands.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Aunt Sally! You are going to wed Mr. Jettan?"</p> - -<p>"One of them," nodded her aunt. "I gather that this one"—she smiled up -at Philip—"is going to wed Someone Else. And I do not think I would -have him in any case."</p> - -<p>"And now who is unkind?" cried Philip. "I've a mind to run away with -you as you enter the church!"</p> - -<p>Cold fear was stealing through Cleone. Mechanically she congratulated -her aunt. Through a haze she heard Brenderby's voice and Jennifer's. So -Philip was going to marry Someone Else? No doubt it was Ann Nutley, the -designing minx!</p> - -<p>When Philip came presently to her side she was gayer than ever, -sparkling with merriment, and seemingly without a care in the world. -She drew Sir Deryk into the conversation, flirting outrageously. She -parried all Philip's sallies and laughed at Sir Deryk's witticisms. -Then Philip went to talk to Jennifer. A pair of hungry, angry, jealous, -and would-be careless blue eyes followed him and grew almost hard.</p> - -<p>When the guests had gone Cleone felt as though her head were full of -fire. Her cheeks burned, her eyes were glittering. Lady Malmerstoke -looked at her.</p> - -<p>"You are hot, my love. Open the window."</p> - -<p>Cleone obeyed, cooling her cheeks against the glass panes.</p> - -<p>"How very shy that child is!" remarked my lady.</p> - -<p>"Jenny? Yes. Very, is she not?"</p> - -<p>"I thought Sir Deryk might have noticed her a little more than he did."</p> - -<p>"He had no chance, had he? She was quite monopolised."</p> - -<p>Her ladyship cast a shrewd glance towards the back of Cleone's head. -She smiled unseen.</p> - -<p>"Well, my love, to turn to other matters, which is it to be—Philip or -Sir Deryk?"</p> - -<p>Cleone started.</p> - -<p>"What do you mean, Aunt? Which is it to <i>be</i>?"</p> - -<p>"Which are you going to smile upon? You have given both a deal of -encouragement. I don't count young James, of course. He's a babe."</p> - -<p>"Please, please—"</p> - -<p>"I don't like Sir Deryk. No, I don't like him at all. He has no true -politeness, or he would have talked a little more to me, or to Jenny. -Which do you intend to wed, my dear?"</p> - -<p>"Neither?"</p> - -<p>"My dear Cleone!" Her ladyship was shocked. "Then why do you encourage -them to make love to you? Now be advised by me! Have Sir Deryk!"</p> - -<p>Cleone gave a trembling laugh.</p> - -<p>"I thought you did not like him?"</p> - -<p>"No more I do. But that's not to say he'd make a bad husband. On the -contrary. He'd let you do as you please, and he'd not be for ever -pestering you with his presence."</p> - -<p>"For these very reasons I'll none of him!"</p> - -<p>"Then that leaves Philip?"</p> - -<p>Cleone whirled about.</p> - -<p>"Whom I would not marry were he the last man in the world!"</p> - -<p>"Luckily he is not. Don't be so violent, my dear."</p> - -<p>Cleone stood for a moment, irresolute. Then she burst into tears and -ran out of the room.</p> - -<p>Lady Malmerstoke leaned back against the cushions and closed her eyes.</p> - -<p>"There's hope for you yet, Philip," she remarked, and prepared to go -to sleep. It was not to be. Barely five minutes later Sir Maurice was -ushered into the room.</p> - -<p>Her ladyship sat up, a hand to her wig.</p> - -<p>"Really, Maurice, you should know better than to take a woman -unawares!" she said severely. "Your family has been in and out the -house all the morning. What's the matter now?"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice kissed her hand.</p> - -<p>"First, my heartiest congratulations, Sarah! I have just seen Tom."</p> - -<p>If a lady could grin, Sarah Malmerstoke grinned then.</p> - -<p>"Thank you, Maurice. And how did you find Tom?"</p> - -<p>"Quite incoherent," said Sir Maurice. "He has talked a deal of nonsense -about love-passions belonging only to the young, but I never saw a man -so madly elated in my life."</p> - -<p>"How nice!" sighed my lady blissfully. "And what's your second point?"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice walked to the fire and stared into it.</p> - -<p>"Sally, it's Cleone."</p> - -<p>"Dear me! What's to do?"</p> - -<p>"If anyone can help me, it's you," he began.</p> - -<p>Her ladyship held up her hands.</p> - -<p>"No, Maurice, no! You're too old!"</p> - -<p>"You ridiculous woman!" He smiled a little. "Does she care for Philip, -or does she not?"</p> - -<p>"Well"—my lady bit her finger—"I've been asking her that question, or -one like it, myself."</p> - -<p>"What did she say?"</p> - -<p>"That she wouldn't marry him were he the last man in the world."</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice looked at her wretchedly.</p> - -<p>"What's come over her? I thought—She said nothing more?"</p> - -<p>"Not a word. She burst into tears and fled."</p> - -<p>His face brightened.</p> - -<p>"Surely that augurs well for him?"</p> - -<p>"Very well," nodded my lady. "But—"</p> - -<p>"But what? Tell me, Sally!"</p> - -<p>"You're very anxious," she observed.</p> - -<p>"Of course I am anxious! I tell you Philip is head over ears in love -with the child! And she—"</p> - -<p>"And she," finished her ladyship deliberately, "will need a deal of -convincing that it is so. We are told that Philip is in love with Ann -Nutley. We know that Philip trifled elegantly with various French -ladies. We see him being kind to little Jennifer. And so on."</p> - -<p>"But he means nothing! You know that!"</p> - -<p>"I? Does it matter what I know? It is what Cleone knows, but there's -naught under the sun so unreasonable as a maid in love."</p> - -<p>"But if Philip assures her—"</p> - -<p>"Pho!" said her ladyship, and snapped her fingers. "Pho!"</p> - -<p>"She wouldn't believe it?"</p> - -<p>"She might. But she might not choose to show it."</p> - -<p>"But it's ridiculous! It's—"</p> - -<p>"Of course. All girls are ridiculous."</p> - -<p>"Sally, don't be tiresome! What's to be done?"</p> - -<p>"Leave 'em alone," counselled her ladyship. "There's no good to be got -out of interfering. Philip must play his own game."</p> - -<p>"He intends to. But he does not know whether she loves him or not!"</p> - -<p>"You can tell him from me that there is hope, but that he must go -carefully. And now I'm going to sleep. Good bye, Maurice."</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="Sixteen" id="Sixteen"><span class="smcap">Sixteen</span></a><br /> -<span class="smcap">Mistress Cleone Finds There Is No Safety in Numbers</span></h2> - - -<p>When Philip entered the ballroom of my lady Dering's house, on -Wednesday evening, Lady Malmerstoke had already arrived. Cleone was -dancing with Sir Deryk; Jennifer was sitting beside her ladyship, -looking very shy and very bewildered. As soon as he could do so, Philip -made his way to that end of the room.</p> - -<p>Lady Malmerstoke welcomed him with a laugh.</p> - -<p>"Good even, Philip! Have you brought your papa?"</p> - -<p>Philip shook his head.</p> - -<p>"He preferred to go to White's with Tom. Jenny, you'll dance with me, -will you not? Remember, you promised!"</p> - -<p>Jennifer raised her eyes.</p> - -<p>"I—I doubt I—cannot. I—I have danced so few times, sir."</p> - -<p>"Don't tell me those little feet cannot dance, <i>chérie</i>!"</p> - -<p>Jennifer glanced down at them.</p> - -<p>"It's monstrous kind of you, Philip—but—but are you sure you want to -lead me out?"</p> - -<p>Philip offered her his arm.</p> - -<p>"I see you are in a very teasing mood, Jenny," he scolded.</p> - -<p>Jennifer rose.</p> - -<p>"Well, I will—but—oh, I am very nervous! I expect you dance so well."</p> - -<p>"I don't think I do, but I am sure you under-rate your dancing. Let us -essay each other!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>From across the room Cleone saw them. She promptly looked away, but -contrived, nevertheless, to keep an eye on their movements. She saw -Philip presently lead Jenny to a chair and sit talking to her. Then he -hailed a passing friend and presented him to Jennifer. Cleone watched -him walk across the room to a knot of men. He returned to Jennifer with -several of them. Unreasoning anger shook Cleone. Why did Philip care -what happened to Jennifer? Why was he so assiduous in his attentions? -She told herself she was an ill-natured cat, but she was still angry. -From Jennifer Philip went to Ann Nutley.</p> - -<p>Sir Deryk stopped fanning Cleone.</p> - -<p>"There he goes! I declare, Philip Jettan makes love to every pretty -woman he meets! Just look at them!"</p> - -<p>Cleone was looking. Her little teeth were tightly clenched.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Jettan is a flatterer," she said.</p> - -<p>"Always so abominably French, too. Mistress Ann seems amused. I believe -Jettan is a great favourite with the ladies of Paris."</p> - -<p>Suddenly Cleone remembered that duel that Philip had fought "over the -fair name of some French maid."</p> - -<p>"Yes?" she said carelessly. "Of course, he is very handsome."</p> - -<p>"Do you think so? Oh, here he comes! Evidently the lovely Ann does not -satisfy him.... Your servant, sir!"</p> - -<p>Philip smiled and bowed.</p> - -<p>"Mademoiselle, may I have the honour of leading you out?" he asked.</p> - -<p>Above all, she must not show Philip that she cared what he did.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I have but this instant sat down!" she said. "I protest I am -fatigued and very hot!"</p> - -<p>"I know of a cool withdrawing-room," said Brenderby at once. "Let me -take you to it, fairest!"</p> - -<p>"It's very kind, Sir Deryk, but I do not think I will go. If I might -have a glass of ratafia?" she added plaintively, looking at Philip.</p> - -<p>For once he was backward in responding. Sir Deryk bowed.</p> - -<p>"At once, dear lady! I go to procure it!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, thank you, sir!" This was not what Cleone wanted at all. "Well, -Mr. Jettan, you have not yet fled to Paris?"</p> - -<p>Philip sat down beside her.</p> - -<p>"No, mademoiselle, not yet. To-night will decide whether I go or stay." -His voice was rather stern.</p> - -<p>"Indeed? How vastly exciting!"</p> - -<p>"Is it not! I am going to ask you a plain question, Cleone. Will you -marry me?"</p> - -<p>Cleone gasped in amazement. Unreasoning fury shook her. That Philip -should dare to come to her straight from the smiles of Ann Nutley! She -glanced at him. He was quite solemn. Could it be that he mocked her? -She forced herself to speak lightly.</p> - -<p>"I can hardly suppose that you are serious, sir!"</p> - -<p>"I am in earnest, Cleone, never more so. We have played at -cross-purposes long enough."</p> - -<p>His voice sent a thrill through her. Almost he was the Philip of Little -Fittledean. Cleone forced herself to remember that he was not.</p> - -<p>"Cross-purposes, sir? I fail to understand you!"</p> - -<p>"Yes? Have you ever been honest with me, Cleone?"</p> - -<p>"Have you ever been honest with me, Mr. Jettan?" she said sharply.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Cleone. Before you sent me away I was honest with you. When I -came back, no. I wished to see whether you wanted me as I was, or as I -pretended to be. You foiled me. Now I am again honest with you. I say -that I love you, and I want you to be my wife."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"You say that you love me...." Cleone tapped her fan on her knee. -"Perhaps you will continue to be honest with me, sir. Am I the only one -you have loved?"</p> - -<p>"You are the only one."</p> - -<p>The blue eyes flashed.</p> - -<p>"And what of the ladies of the French Court, Mr. Jettan? What of a -certain duel you fought with a French husband? You can explain that, no -doubt?"</p> - -<p>Philip was silent for a moment, frowning.</p> - -<p>"So the news of that absurd affair reached you, Cleone?"</p> - -<p>She laughed, clenching her teeth.</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, sir! It reached me. A pity, was it not?"</p> - -<p>"A great pity, Cleone, if on that gossip you judge me."</p> - -<p>"Ah! There was no truth in the tale?" Suppressed eagerness was in her -voice.</p> - -<p>"I will be frank with you. A certain measure of truth there was. M. de -Foli-Martin thought himself injured. It was not so."</p> - -<p>"And why should he think so, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Presumably because I paid court to madame, his wife."</p> - -<p>"Yes?" Cleone spoke gently, dangerously. "You paid court to madame. No -doubt she was very lovely?"</p> - -<p>"Very." Philip was nettled.</p> - -<p>"As lovely, perhaps, as Mademoiselle de Marcherand, of whom I have -heard, or as Mistress Ann Nutley yonder? Or as lovely as Jennifer?"</p> - -<p>Philip took a false step.</p> - -<p>"Cleone, surely you are not jealous of little Jenny?" he cried.</p> - -<p>She drew herself up.</p> - -<p>"Jealous? What right have I to be jealous? You are nothing to me, Mr. -Jettan! I confess that once I—liked you. You have changed since then. -You cannot deny that you have made love to a score of beautiful women -since you left home. I do not blame you for that. You are free to do -as you please. What I will not support is that you should come to me -with your proposal, having shown me during the time that you have -spent in England that I am no more to you than Ann Nutley, or Julie de -Marcherand. 'To the Pearl that Trembles in her Ear,' was it not? Very -pretty, sir. And now I intrigue you for the moment. I cannot consider -myself flattered, Mr. Jettan."</p> - -<p>Philip had grown pale under his paint.</p> - -<p>"Cleone, you wrong me! It is true that I have trifled harmlessly with -those ladies. It is the fashion—the fashion you bade me follow. There -has never been aught serious betwixt any woman and me. That I swear!"</p> - -<p>"You probably swore the same to M. de Foli-Martin?"</p> - -<p>"When I had given him the satisfaction he craved, yes."</p> - -<p>"I suppose he believed you?"</p> - -<p>"No." Philip bit his lip.</p> - -<p>"No? Then will you tell me, sir, how it is that you expect me to -believe what M. de Foli-Martin—closely concerned—would not believe?"</p> - -<p>Philip looked straight into her eyes.</p> - -<p>"I can only give you my word, Cleone."</p> - -<p>Still she fought on, wishing to be defeated.</p> - -<p>"So you have never trifled with any of these women, sir?"</p> - -<p>Philip was silent again.</p> - -<p>"You bring me"—Cleone's voice trembled—"a tarnished reputation. I've -no mind to it, sir. You have made love to a dozen other women. Perhaps -you have kissed them. And—and now you offer me—your kisses! I like -unspoilt wares, sir."</p> - -<p>Philip rose, very stiff and stern.</p> - -<p>"I am sorry that you consider yourself insulted by my offer, Cleone."</p> - -<p>Her hand half flew towards him and fell again. Couldn't he understand -that she wanted him to beat down her resistance? Did he care no more -than that? If only he would deny everything and master her!</p> - -<p>"I hasten to relieve you of my obnoxious presence. Your servant, -mademoiselle." Philip bowed. He turned on his heel and walked away, -leaving Cleone stricken.</p> - -<p>Her fan dropped unheeded to the ground. Philip had gone! He had not -understood that she wanted to be overruled, overcome. He had gone, and -he would never come back. In those few minutes he had been the Philip -she loved, not the flippant gallant of the past weeks. Tears came into -Cleone's eyes. Why, why had he been so provoking? And oh, why had she -let him go? She knew now beyond question that he was the only man she -could ever love, or had ever loved. Now he had left her, and would go -back to Paris. Nothing mattered, she did not care what became of her -once she had lost Philip.</p> - -<p>James Winton, never far away, came to her side and sat down. Cleone -greeted him mechanically and proceeded to follow out her own line of -dismal thought. Through a haze of misery she heard James' voice. It -sounded rather shy, and very anxious. She had not the faintest idea of -what he was saying, but she felt vaguely annoyed by his persistency. -Presently these words filtered through to her brain:</p> - -<p>"Say yes, Cleone! Say yes! Oh, say yes, Cleone!"</p> - -<p>How importunate he was! Cleone turned impatiently.</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, yes! What is it?"</p> - -<p>As James had been blurting out a carefully-worded proposal of marriage, -he was not flattered by this answer. He rose, hurt to the bottom of his -youthful soul.</p> - -<p>"It is evident that you have not heard a word of what I said, Cleone!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, don't worry me, James! I've said yes. What is it? You are so -persistent, and I wish to be quiet!"</p> - -<p>James bowed.</p> - -<p>"I will leave you, madam. I offered you my hand and my heart." With -that he walked off, a picture of outraged dignity.</p> - -<p>Cleone broke into hysterical laughter. Up came Sir Deryk.</p> - -<p>"You seem vastly entertained, lady fair. May I share the pleasantry?"</p> - -<p>Cleone sprang up.</p> - -<p>"Take me away from this!" she begged. "I—I am nigh fainting from the -heat! I—oh, I must be quiet! The fiddling goes through and through my -head. I—oh, take me somewhere cool!"</p> - -<p>Sir Deryk was surprised, but he did not show it.</p> - -<p>"Why, of course, dearest! I know of a small withdrawing-room nearby. -Take my arm, it's stifling in here!" He led her across the room to -where a heavy curtain hung, shutting off a small, dimly-lighted -apartment.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Philip had gone to Lady Malmerstoke's side. He sat down, -frowning gloomily.</p> - -<p>Her ladyship eyed him speculatively.</p> - -<p>"Well?" she demanded.</p> - -<p>Philip laughed bitterly.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I have been rebuffed! Do I conceal it so admirably?"</p> - -<p>"No, you do not," said her ladyship. "You must have played your cards -monstrously badly. Trust a man."</p> - -<p>"Oh, no! Tis merely that your niece does not love me."</p> - -<p>"Fiddle! Don't tell me that. D'you think I'm a fool, Philip?"</p> - -<p>"She objects, madam, to my—tarnished reputation. She was quite final."</p> - -<p>"You thought she was quite final. Now, don't be stately, child! What -happened?"</p> - -<p>"I asked her to marry me—and she flung my wretched Paris <i>affaires</i> in -my face."</p> - -<p>"Of course, you denied everything?"</p> - -<p>"No, I did not. How could I? There was a certain measure of tr—"</p> - -<p>Lady Malmerstoke leaned back disgustedly.</p> - -<p>"God preserve me from young men! You admitted it?"</p> - -<p>"No—that is, I was frank with her."</p> - -<p>"Great heavens, Philip! Frank with a woman? God help you, then! And -what next? Did you tell Cleone not to be a fool? Did you insist that -she should listen to you?"</p> - -<p>"How could I? She—"</p> - -<p>"You didn't. You walked off when you should have mastered her. I'll -wager my best necklet she was waiting for you to assert yourself. And -now she's probably miserable. Serve her right, and you too."</p> - -<p>"But, Lady Malmerstoke—"</p> - -<p>"Not but what I don't sympathise with the child," continued her -ladyship inexorably. "Of course, she is a fool, but so are all girls. -A woman of my age don't inquire too closely into a man's past—we've -learned wisdom. Cleone knows that you have trifled with a dozen other -women. Bless you, she don't think the worse of you for that!"</p> - -<p>"She does! She said—"</p> - -<p>"For goodness' sake, don't try to tell me what she said, Philip! What's -that to do with it?"</p> - -<p>"But you don't understand! Cleone said—"</p> - -<p>"So she may have. That does not mean that she meant it, does it?" asked -her ladyship in great scorn.</p> - -<p>"<i>Mais</i>—"</p> - -<p>"Don't start talking French at me, child, for I can't bear it! You -should know by now that no woman means what she says when it's to a -man."</p> - -<p>"Oh, stop, stop! Lady Malmerstoke, you don't understand! Cleone does -think the worse of me for those intrigues! She is very angry!"</p> - -<p>"Of course she is. What do you expect?"</p> - -<p>Philip clasped his head.</p> - -<p>"<i>Mais, voyons!</i> Just now you said that she does <i>not</i> think the worse -of me for it!"</p> - -<p>"Who said she did? Can't one think two things at the same time?"</p> - -<p>"But surely not two such—such contradictory things! I have never done -so in my life!"</p> - -<p>"You! You're only a man! You've not our gifts! I can tell you!" -My lady spread out her fan. "Why, a woman can think of a hundred -different things at once, all of them contradictory!" She nodded at him -complacently.</p> - -<p>"It's ridiculous! It's impossible! Are women's brains so—so -incoherent?"</p> - -<p>"Most of 'em," answered her ladyship. "They jump, you see."</p> - -<p>"Jump?" Philip was thoroughly bewildered.</p> - -<p>"Jump. From one thing to another. You'll arrive at a new thought by -degrees, and you'll know how you got there. Women don't think like -that. Cleone could not tell you why she thinks well and ill of you at -once, but she does."</p> - -<p>"But surely if she reasons with herself she'll see how absurd—"</p> - -<p>"If she what?"</p> - -<p>"Reasons. I mean—"</p> - -<p>"You're mad," said Lady Malmerstoke with conviction. "Women don't -reason. That's a man's part. Why, do you suppose that if Cleone -thought as you think, and had a brain like a man's, you'd be in -love with her? Of course you'd not. You'd not be able to feel your -superiority over her. Don't tell me!"</p> - -<p>"I don't feel—"</p> - -<p>Her ladyship chuckled.</p> - -<p>"Oh, don't you, Philip? You think that Clo is reasonable-minded, and -able to care for herself, needing no master?"</p> - -<p>"I—no, I don't!"</p> - -<p>"That's what I say. Goodness me, how blind you are! If you didn't -consider that you had to care for Cleone and guard her from everyone -else and herself, you wouldn't love her. Now don't be foolish!"</p> - -<p>Philip laughed ruefully.</p> - -<p>"You're a fount of wisdom, Lady Sally!"</p> - -<p>"Well, I should be at my age. I've had experience, you see, and I never -was a fool."</p> - -<p>"Then—tell me what I am to do?"</p> - -<p>Lady Malmerstoke wagged an impressive finger at him.</p> - -<p>"Take that girl and shake her. Tell her you'll not be flouted. Tell her -she's a little fool, and kiss her. And if she protests, go on kissing -her. Dear me, what things I do say!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, but, dear Lady Sally, how am I to kiss her when she's as cold as -ice—and—and so unapproachable?"</p> - -<p>"And why is she cold?" said her ladyship. "Tell me that!"</p> - -<p>"Because she—thinks me naught but an elegant trifler!"</p> - -<p>"Not a bit of it. Because you treat her gently and politely, and let -her flout you. God bless my soul, women don't want gentle politeness! -Not Cleone, at all events! They like a man to be brutal!"</p> - -<p>"Brutal?"</p> - -<p>"Well, not exactly. They like to feel he'll stand no airs and graces. -Oh, they want gentleness, never fear! But they want to feel helpless. -They want mastering, most of 'em. When you kiss the tips of Clo's -fingers, and treat her as though you thought she was made o' porcelain, -she thinks you're no man, and don't care for her."</p> - -<p>"She cannot! She—"</p> - -<p>"She don't know it, of course, but it's true. Be advised by me, Philip, -and insist on having your way with her. Don't be finicky!"</p> - -<p>"It's very well, but she doesn't love me!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, drat the man!" said her ladyship. "You fatigue me! Go your own -road, but don't blame me when everything goes awry. If you have made -Clo miserable she'll do something mad. And now I've warned you. Oh, -here is James, looking like a sulky bear! James, my good boy, I've left -my handkerchief in another room. Will you fetch it for me, please? Over -there, behind the curtain. Yes, shocking, isn't it? But 'twas only old -Fotheringham, so you can tell your uncle, Philip."</p> - -<p>He rose and laughed down at her.</p> - -<p>"And will he master you, my lady?"</p> - -<p>"Not he," said Lady Malmerstoke placidly. "I'm past the age of wanting -that nonsense. Not that I ever wanted it, but I was always unusual. Be -off with you!"</p> - -<p>Philip took James by the arm.</p> - -<p>"We are summarily dismissed! Come, Jamie, we'll find her handkerchief, -and she'll smile again."</p> - -<p>In the withdrawing-room Cleone was dicing with Sir Deryk. A very -unmaidenly proceeding. She had just lost the rose at her breast to -Brenderby, and he was trying to undo the pin that held it in place. -Failing in that, he grasped the stem firmly, and broke off the bloom. -But with the rose he had clutched a thin blue riband from which hung a -locket. It snapped, and the trinket rolled on to the floor.</p> - -<p>Cleone was already overwrought. She sprang up.</p> - -<p>"Oh, my locket!" And searched wildly on the floor.</p> - -<p>Surprised at her earnestness, Brenderby went down on his knees, and -presently retrieved the locket just as Cleone had seen it. He rose, -and was about to present it to her when she clasped agitated hands and -demanded that it should be given her at once! This aroused Sir Deryk's -curiosity. He withheld it.</p> - -<p>"Why so anxious, Cleone? What secret does it hide?"</p> - -<p>"Naught! Oh, give it me, give it me!"</p> - -<p>Sir Deryk held fast to the trophy.</p> - -<p>"Not so fast, Cleone! I'll swear there's some mystery here! I've a mind -to peep inside!"</p> - -<p>"I forbid you!" said Cleone. "Sir Deryk—" She controlled herself. -"Please give it me!"</p> - -<p>"And so I will, fairest, but first I must see what is inside!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, no! There's naught! I could not bear you to look! Besides, -it's—it's empty. I—oh, give it me!" She stamped angrily.</p> - -<p>Brenderby's eyes were alight with impish laughter.</p> - -<p>"I'll make a bargain, sweetest! You shall play me for it." He picked -up the dice-box. "If you beat my throw, I will give you the locket -unopened. If you lose you shall pay a price for it."</p> - -<p>"I don't understand! What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"You shall kiss me for it. One hard-earned kiss. Come, you must admit -my terms are generous!"</p> - -<p>"I won't! How dare you, sir! And it is <i>my</i> locket! You have no right -to it!"</p> - -<p>"What I find I keep! Come! The odds are equal, and in neither case do I -open the locket."</p> - -<p>"I—I thought you a gentleman!"</p> - -<p>"So I am, Clo. Were I not—I'd take the price and then the locket. -There's no one to see, and no one need know. Cleone—you lovely -creature!"</p> - -<p>Cleone wrung her hands.</p> - -<p>"I should die of shame! Oh, Sir Deryk, please be kind!"</p> - -<p>"Why should I be kind when you are not? You'll none of my terms? Very -well!" He made as if to open the locket.</p> - -<p>"No, no, no!" almost shrieked Cleone. "I'll do anything, anything! Only -don't open it!"</p> - -<p>"You'll play me?"</p> - -<p>Cleone drew a deep breath.</p> - -<p>"Yes. I will. And I'll never, never, never speak to you again!"</p> - -<p>He laughed.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I trust you'll change your mind! Now!" He cast the dice. "Aha! Can -you beat that?"</p> - -<p>Cleone took the box in a firm clasp, and shook it long and violently. -Her cheeks were burning, her eyes tight shut. She threw the dice. -Brenderby bent over the table.</p> - -<p>"Alack!"</p> - -<p>Her eyes flew open.</p> - -<p>"I've won? Oh, I have won!"</p> - -<p>"No. I was grieving for you, fairest, not for myself. You have lost."</p> - -<p>Tears glistened on the end of her long lashes.</p> - -<p>"Sir Deryk—p-please be gen-generous now! I don't want to—kiss you!"</p> - -<p>"What! You cry off? Shame, Cleone!" he teased.</p> - -<p>"You are monstrous unk-kind! It's my locket, and I d-don't want to kiss -you! I don't, I don't! I hate you!"</p> - -<p>"That adds spice, my dear. Must I take the price?"</p> - -<p>She choked down a sob.</p> - -<p>"Very well. Kiss me." She stood where she was, face upturned, with the -resignation of a martyr.</p> - -<p>He laid his hands on her shoulders, looking down at her.</p> - -<p>"By God, Cleone, you're damnably beautiful!" he said thickly. "You've -played with fire to-night—but I won't burn you too much!" He bent his -head till his lips met hers.</p> - -<p>At that inauspicious moment James and Philip walked into the room.</p> - -<p>"No, it was here she said, Philip. I re—"</p> - -<p>With a cry of horror Cleone sprang away from Sir Deryk, her cheeks -flaming. Her wide eyes went from James' face of frozen astonishment to -Philip's pale, furious countenance.</p> - -<p>Philip took a half-step forward, his hand wrenching at his sword-hilt. -Then he checked and slammed the sword back into the scabbard. Cleone -had not struggled in Brenderby's embrace. What could he do? He had -always thought her in love with the fellow. And on the top of his own -proposal.... He swept a magnificent bow.</p> - -<p>"<i>Mille pardons, mademoiselle!</i> It seems that I intrude."</p> - -<p>Cleone winced at the biting sarcasm in his voice. She tried to speak, -and failed. What could she say?</p> - -<p>James came out of his stupor. He strode forward.</p> - -<p>"What in thunder—"</p> - -<p>"I don't kn-know!" quavered Cleone. "Oh—oh, heaven!"</p> - -<p>Quickly Brenderby stepped to her side. He took her hand in his, and -gave it a reassuring squeeze.</p> - -<p>"Gentlemen, you have the honour of addressing my affianced wife," he -said haughtily.</p> - -<p>Philip's hand was on the curtain. It clenched slowly. He stood very -still, his eyes on Cleone's face.</p> - -<p>"Oh!" cried Cleone. "Oh, I—" She stopped helplessly. Heavens, what a -position she was in! If she denied that she was betrothed to Brenderby, -what could Philip think? What must he think? He had seen her in Sir -Deryk's arms; the only excuse was a betrothal. And she had accused -Philip of loose behaviour! Whatever happened, he must not think her a -light woman! But, oh! how could she say she was betrothed to another -when she desired nothing better than to fly to him for protection? She -compromised.</p> - -<p>"I—oh, I think I am about—to faint!" she said.</p> - -<p>Sir Deryk drew her hand through his arm.</p> - -<p>"No, no, my love! Tell these gentlemen that it is as I say."</p> - -<p>Cleone looked at Philip. Was he sneering? She couldn't bear it.</p> - -<p>"Yes," she said. "It is."</p> - -<p>Philip seemed to stiffen. He bowed again.</p> - -<p>"Permit me to offer my felicitations," he said, but his voice was not -quite steady.</p> - -<p>James hurried forward, furious.</p> - -<p>"Your pardon, sir! I beg leave to contradict that statement!"</p> - -<p>They all stared at him in amazement. Philip eyed him through his -quizzing-glass.</p> - -<p>"I—beg—your—pardon?" drawled Brenderby.</p> - -<p>"I am betrothed to her myself!" shouted James.</p> - -<p>Cleone's hands flew to her cheeks.</p> - -<p>"Oh!" she fluttered. "Oh—oh, I <i>am</i> going to faint!"</p> - -<p>Brenderby's eyes twinkled.</p> - -<p>"Bear up a little longer, dear! Of course, I know there is no truth in -what Mr. Winton says!"</p> - -<p>"It is true!" James danced in his fury. "Cleone promised to wed me, -only a little while back! You can't deny it, Clo! You did!"</p> - -<p>"I did not!"</p> - -<p>"You did! You said yes! You know you did!"</p> - -<p>Cleone leaned on the nearest thing to her for support. It chanced to be -Sir Deryk, but she was past caring.</p> - -<p>"James, you know I—never meant it!"</p> - -<p>Suddenly Philip's lips twitched. Brenderby was bubbling over with -ill-suppressed merriment.</p> - -<p>"My dear, this is most serious! Did you, indeed, accept Mr. Winton's -proposal?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, but he knows I did not mean it! I—"</p> - -<p>"Cleone, do you tell me you accepted him and—"</p> - -<p>"Yes, she did! And I hold her to her promise!"</p> - -<p>Cleone's knees threatened to give way.</p> - -<p>"James, I can't marry you! I won't marry you!"</p> - -<p>"I hold you to your promise!" repeated James, almost beside himself.</p> - -<p>"And I." Sir Deryk passed his arm round Cleone's waist. "I hold Cleone -to the promise she has given me!"</p> - -<p>Philip interposed.</p> - -<p>"Probably the lady would be glad of a chair," he suggested evenly. -"James, Brenderby—let your future wife sit down!"</p> - -<p>Sir Deryk's shoulders shook. He led Cleone to the couch, and she sank -on to it, hiding her face.</p> - -<p>Philip swung the curtain aside.</p> - -<p>"Permit me to withdraw. Decidedly I am <i>de trop</i>. Mademoiselle, -messieurs!" He went out, and the curtain fell back into place.</p> - -<p>"Oh, oh, oh!" moaned Cleone.</p> - -<p>James bent over her.</p> - -<p>"Come, Clo! Let me take you back to your aunt!"</p> - -<p>Brenderby stepped to Cleone's other side.</p> - -<p>"Cleone needs no other escort than that of her affianced husband, sir!"</p> - -<p>"And that is I!"</p> - -<p>"On the contrary, it is I! Cleone, sweet, come!"</p> - -<p>Cleone sprang up.</p> - -<p>"It's neither of you! Don't—touch me! Oh, that I should be so -humiliated! I will not marry you, James! You know that I never heard -what you said!"</p> - -<p>James set his chin stubbornly.</p> - -<p>"I'll not release you from your promise," he said.</p> - -<p>"And nor will I." Sir Deryk was enjoying himself.</p> - -<p>"You must release me, James!" cried Cleone. "I—I am going to wed—Sir -Deryk!" She dissolved into tears. "Oh, what shall I do? What shall I -do? How—how dreadful it is! Let me go! I hate you both!" She fled from -them and was at her aunt's side before either had time to follow her.</p> - -<p>"Good gracious, child, what's amiss?" exclaimed Lady Malmerstoke. -"You're as white as my wig!"</p> - -<p>"Take me home!" begged Cleone. "I am b-betrothed to Sir Deryk and -James! Oh, for heaven's sake, take me home!"</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="Seventeen" id="Seventeen"><span class="smcap">Seventeen</span></a><br /> -<span class="smcap">Mistress Cleone at Her Wits' End</span></h2> - - -<p>Sir Maurice and his brother were sitting at breakfast next morning when -Philip burst in on them. Tom jumped up and swore.</p> - -<p>"Damn you, Philip! At this hour!"</p> - -<p>Philip paid not the slightest heed to him. He grasped his father by the -shoulder.</p> - -<p>"Father, you must to Lady Malmerstoke's house at once!"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice ate another mouthful of beef.</p> - -<p>"Sit down, my son, and be calm. What's to do?"</p> - -<p>"God alone knows!" cried Philip. He sank into a chair and rejected his -uncle's offer of breakfast. "Breakfast? What have I to do with food -when I'm nigh demented?"</p> - -<p>"Drink's the thing," agreed Tom placidly. He pushed a tankard of ale -towards his nephew. "What ails you, lad?"</p> - -<p>"Cleone's betrothed to Brenderby," announced Philip wretchedly.</p> - -<p>"No!" Tom was dumbfounded.</p> - -<p>"And to Winton." Philip sought to drown his troubles in the tankard.</p> - -<p>"What!" Sir Maurice dropped his knife. "Betrothed to Brenderby <i>and</i> -Winton? You're raving!"</p> - -<p>"Would to God I were!" Philip emerged from the tankard, and wiped his -lips with his fathers napkin. "I asked her to marry me at the ball -last night. She refused; I won't tell you her exact words. Half an -hour later I found her kissing <i>ce scélérat</i> Brenderby in a secluded -corner!" He laughed savagely.</p> - -<p>"You mean that Brenderby kissed her?" suggested Tom.</p> - -<p>"No, I do not! <i>Voyons</i>, would he be alive now had he dared embrace -Cleone against her will? She submitted—she wished it!"</p> - -<p>"I'll not believe that!" exclaimed Sir Maurice.</p> - -<p>"You must believe it. She is betrothed to him. She said it herself. -James was with me. He interposed, saying that she was already promised -to him."</p> - -<p>Tom gave a chuckle.</p> - -<p>"Faith, the child is rich in—" He caught Philips eye and subsided. -"Oh, ay, ay! Go on."</p> - -<p>"I know no more. I deemed it time for me to withdraw."</p> - -<p>"The proper thing to have done," said Tom solemnly, "was to have struck -an attitude and said, 'Not so! The girl is mine!'"</p> - -<p>"What right had I? I was not amongst the favoured ones."</p> - -<p>"Don't sneer, Philip," interposed Sir Maurice. "There must be something -behind all this."</p> - -<p>Philip turned to him.</p> - -<p>"That's what I hope and trust! You must go at once to Lady -Malmerstoke's!" His head sank into his hands and he gave way to a gust -of laughter. "Oh, Gad! neither would give way an inch. Both held Clo to -her promise!"</p> - -<p>"Ye seem monstrous light-hearted about it," said his uncle.</p> - -<p>Philip sprang up.</p> - -<p>"Because I thought that—for one moment—she looked at me for help!"</p> - -<p>"Which you declined to give?" asked Sir Maurice dryly.</p> - -<p>"<i>Mon cher père</i>, I have my own game to play. Now go to Lady -Malmerstoke's, I implore you!"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice rose.</p> - -<p>"I'll go at once. What madness can have seized Cleone?"</p> - -<p>Philip almost pushed him out of the room.</p> - -<p>"That is what I want to know. Quickly, Father!"</p> - -<p>The little black page swung open the door of my lady's boudoir.</p> - -<p>"Sah Maurice Jettan!"</p> - -<p>"The very man I wish to see!" exclaimed Lady Malmerstoke. "Maurry, -never were you more opportune!"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice kissed her hand with punctilious politeness. He then smiled -at Cleone, who stood by the table, pale and wan-looking.</p> - -<p>"I hope I see you well, Cleone?"</p> - -<p>"Very well, thank you, sir," said Cleone dully.</p> - -<p>Lady Malmerstoke sat down.</p> - -<p>"Clo has disgraced me," she said comfortably. "Is it not exciting?"</p> - -<p>Cleone turned her head away. Sir Maurice saw her lips tremble.</p> - -<p>"Please, Aunt—please don't—don't—I shall wed—Sir Deryk."</p> - -<p>"And what's to happen to t'other? You can't wed two men, my dear. I'm -not sure that I shall consent to your marrying either."</p> - -<p>"Sir Deryk—has my word."</p> - -<p>"But so has James."</p> - -<p>"What's this?" Sir Maurice spoke with well-feigned astonishment. -"Cleone, you are not betrothed, surely?"</p> - -<p>"To two men," nodded her aunt. "I have never been so amused in my life. -I always considered myself to be flighty, but I'll swear I never was -engaged to two men at one and the same time!"</p> - -<p>Cleone sat down, staring out of the window and biting her lips.</p> - -<p>"What!" cried Sir Maurice in liveliest horror. "Engaged to two men? -Cleone!"</p> - -<p>The golden head was bowed. A great sob shook Cleone.</p> - -<p>"But—good heavens, my dear! This is dreadful! How could such a thing -have come to pass?"</p> - -<p>"Of course it's dreadful," said her ladyship. "Think of the scandal -when it is known. And that'll be soon, I'll wager. Brenderby will -never keep such a piece of spice to himself." As she spoke, one of her -eyelids flickered. Sir Maurice smiled, unseen by Cleone.</p> - -<p>"You—forget, Aunt. I am going to—wed—Sir Deryk." A shudder ran -through her at the thought.</p> - -<p>"But I don't understand! Tell me how it happened, Cleone!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, tell him, Clo. Mayhap he can help you."</p> - -<p>"No one can help me," said Cleone miserably. "I must bear the pain of -my own folly. I—oh, I have been so wicked!"</p> - -<p>"Now, Cleone? Why? What happened?"</p> - -<p>"I may as well tell you. It will be all over town by to-night—everyone -will know me for a flirtatious, flighty woman. I—"</p> - -<p>"You won't have a shred of reputation left," said her aunt maliciously.</p> - -<p>Cleone started.</p> - -<p>"Rep—Oh, and I said—!"</p> - -<p>"Said what, my love?"</p> - -<p>"Naught. I—I—oh, Sir Maurice, Sir Maurice, I am so unhappy!" Cleone -burst into tears.</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice patted one heaving shoulder.</p> - -<p>"There, there, Cleone! Tell me all about it!"</p> - -<p>"It—it was at the ball last n-night. I—I—no, first James -proposed—to me, and I said yes, but I didn't mean it!"</p> - -<p>"You said yes, but you didn't mean it?"</p> - -<p>"I didn't hear what he said—I—I said yes because he worried so! -And—and he knew I didn't mean it, for he walked away. Then I—I—went -with Sir Deryk to a room apart—"</p> - -<p>"Cle-one!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I know, I know! It was terrible of me, but I was so upset—I -hardly cared what I did!"</p> - -<p>"But why were you upset? Because James had proposed?"</p> - -<p>"No—I—I—something—else—I can't tell you! Anyway—Sir Deryk took -me to this room, and—and taught me to—to dice—yes, I know it was -horrid! And—and I lost my rose to him, and when he—was taking it, he -broke the string of my locket, and he wouldn't give it me, but said he -must see what was inside, and I <i>couldn't</i> let him! I <i>couldn't</i>!"</p> - -<p>"What was inside?" asked Sir Maurice.</p> - -<p>"For heaven's sake, don't ask her that!" begged Lady Malmerstoke. "It -sets her off into floods of tears!"</p> - -<p>"Aunt, <i>please</i>! And—and so I played him—for it—and I lost and had -to—to kiss him—for it. Don't, don't look at me! And then—and then -<i>he</i> came—with James—and saw! What he must <i>think</i> of me! And I said -that he—Oh, he must—"</p> - -<p>"Who is 'he'?" asked Sir Maurice innocently. He watched a tell-tale -blush steal up under Cleone's fingers.</p> - -<p>"Mr.—Mr. Jettan—I—he—saw me kiss—Sir Deryk! Then—then—I think, -to spare me—Sir Deryk said I was his betrothed wife. I could not -say I was not, could I? It was too dreadful! And Phil—Mr. Jettan -congratulated us! But James suddenly said he was going to marry me -because I had said yes to him—by mistake! Of course I said I was not, -but he wouldn't release me from my word, and nor would Sir Deryk! -Then—then he—Ph—I mean Mr. Jettan—just bowed and went away, but I -could see what he—thought of—of me. Oh, what shall I do? Neither will -let me go! I am betrothed to two gentlemen, and—oh, <i>what</i> shall I do?"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice took a pinch of snuff. A smile hovered about his mouth. He -shut the box with a snap.</p> - -<p>"It seems, my dear, that the situation calls for a third gentleman," he -said, and picked up his hat.</p> - -<p>Cleone sprang to her feet.</p> - -<p>"Oh—oh, what are you going to do?" she cried.</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice walked to the door.</p> - -<p>"It needs a masterful hand to extricate you from your delicate -position," he said. "I go in search of such a hand."</p> - -<p>Cleone ran to him, clasping his arm.</p> - -<p>"No, no, no! Oh, for heaven's sake, Sir Maurice, stop!"</p> - -<p>He laid a hand over her clutching fingers.</p> - -<p>"My dear, do you want a scandal?"</p> - -<p>"No, oh no! But I must persuade James!"</p> - -<p>"And do you want to marry this Brenderby?"</p> - -<p>"I—am going to marry him."</p> - -<p>"Cleone, answer me! Do you want to marry him?"</p> - -<p>"I don't want to marry anyone! I wish I were dead!"</p> - -<p>"Well, child, you are not dead. I refuse to see you fall into -Brenderby's clutches, and I refuse to countenance the scandal that -would arise if you rejected him. I am too old to serve you, but I know -of one who is not."</p> - -<p>"Sir Maurice, I implore you, do not speak to him! You don't understand! -You—Oh, stop, stop!"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice had disengaged himself. He opened the door.</p> - -<p>"You need not fear that the third gentleman will cause you any -annoyance, my dear. I can vouch for his discretion."</p> - -<p>Cleone tried to hold him back.</p> - -<p>"Sir Maurice, you don't understand! You must not ask Ph—your son -to—to—help me! I—I didn't tell you all! I—Oh, come back!"</p> - -<p>The door closed behind Sir Maurice.</p> - -<p>"A very prompt, wise man," commented Lady Malmerstoke. "Now I am to be -baulked of the scandal. Hey-dey!"</p> - -<p>Cleone paced to and fro.</p> - -<p>"I can't face him! I can't, I can't! What must he <i>think</i> of me? What -must he think? Aunt, you don't know all!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, I do," retorted her ladyship.</p> - -<p>"No, no, you do not! Philip asked me to marry him—and—I refused! -I—I—told him—I would not marry a man with a tarnished reputation! -I—I said that—and worse! I accused him of trifling and—and—oh, it's -too awful! That he should have been the one to see! How he must scorn -me. Oh, Aunt, Aunt, can't you say something?"</p> - -<p>"Ay, one thing. That you will have to be very humble to Master Philip. -At least, he was never betrothed twice in one night."</p> - -<p>Cleone collapsed on to the couch.</p> - -<p>"I'll not see him! I—oh, I must go home at once! I must, I must! -Everything is all my fault! I ought never to have—sent him away! And -now—and now he despises me!"</p> - -<p>"Who says so?"</p> - -<p>"I—how could he do else? Don't—don't you realise how dreadful I have -been? And—and his face—when—when he—heard everything! He'll never -never believe—the truth!"</p> - -<p>"What matters it?" asked my lady carelessly. "Since you do not love -him—"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I do, I do, I do!" wept Cleone.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>François admitted Sir Maurice. His round face was perturbed. It cleared -somewhat at the sight of Sir Maurice.</p> - -<p>"<i>Ah, m'sieur, entrez donc!</i> M'sieur Philippe he is like one mad!—He -rage, he go up and down the room like a caged beast! It is a woman, -without doubt it is a woman! I have known it <i>depuis longtemps</i>! -Something terrible has happened! M'sieur is <i>hors de lui-même</i>!"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice laughed.</p> - -<p>"Poor François! I go to reassure m'sieur."</p> - -<p>"Ah, if m'sieur can do that!"</p> - -<p>"I can—most effectively. Where is he?"</p> - -<p>François pointed to the library door.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Philip literally pounced on his father.</p> - -<p>"Well? You have seen her? Is she in love with Brenderby? Is she to wed -him? What did she tell you?"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice pushed him away.</p> - -<p>"You are the second distracted lover who has clutched me to-day. Have -done."</p> - -<p>Philip danced with impatience.</p> - -<p>"But speak, Father! Speak!"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice sat down leisurely and crossed his legs.</p> - -<p>"At the present moment Cleone is betrothed. Very much so," he added, -chuckling. "I am about to put the whole matter into your hands."</p> - -<p>"My hands? She wants my help?"</p> - -<p>"Not at all. She is insistent that you shall not be appealed to. In -fact, she was almost frantic when I suggested it."</p> - -<p>"Then does she not want to marry Brenderby?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly not. But she will do if you fail to intervene."</p> - -<p>Philip flung out his hands.</p> - -<p>"But tell me, sir! What happened last night?"</p> - -<p>"Sit down and be quiet," said Sir Maurice severely. "I am on the point -of telling you."</p> - -<p>Philip obeyed meekly.</p> - -<p>"And don't interrupt." Sir Maurice proceeded to relate all that he -had heard from Cleone.... "And she was so upset that she went with -Brenderby, not caring what happened. That is the whole story," he ended.</p> - -<p>"Upset? But—was she upset—because I had offered and been rejected?"</p> - -<p>"Presumably. Now she is so hopelessly compromised that she daren't face -you."</p> - -<p>Philip sank his head into his hands and gave way to a long peal of -laughter.</p> - -<p>"<i>Sacré nom de Dieu</i>, the tables are turned, indeed. Oh, Clo, Clo, you -wicked little hussy! And what was in that locket?"</p> - -<p>"That you will have to ask her yourself," answered Sir Maurice.</p> - -<p>Philip jumped up.</p> - -<p>"And I shall. <i>Mordieu</i>, never did I dream of such a solution to my -difficulties!"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps she still will not have you, Philip," warned Sir Maurice.</p> - -<p>Philip flung back his head.</p> - -<p>"Thunder of God, she will have me now if I have to force her to the -altar! <i>Ciel</i>, you have taken a load off my mind, sir! I thought she -cared for Brenderby! She smiled on him so consistently. And now for <i>ce -cher</i> Brenderby! I am going to enjoy myself."</p> - -<p>"Remember, Philip! No breath of scandal!"</p> - -<p>"Am I so clumsy? Not a whisper shall there be! François, François! My -hat, my cloak, my boots, and my <span class="smcap">SWORD</span>!"</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="Eighteen" id="Eighteen"><span class="smcap">Eighteen</span></a><br /> -<span class="smcap">Philip Takes Charge of the Situation</span></h2> - - -<p>Sir Deryk's valet came to him, bowing.</p> - -<p>"There is a gentleman below who desires speech with you, sir."</p> - -<p>"Oh? Who is he?"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Philip Jettan, sir."</p> - -<p>Sir Deryk raised his eyebrows.</p> - -<p>"Jettan? What can he want with me? Ay, I'll come." He rose and went -languidly downstairs. "This is an unexpected honour, Jettan! Come in!" -He led Philip into a large room. "Is it a mere friendly visit?"</p> - -<p>"Anything but that," said Philip. "I have come to tell you that you -will not be able to wed Mistress Cleone Charteris."</p> - -<p>"Oh?" Brenderby laughed. "Why do you say that?"</p> - -<p>"Because," Philip smiled a little, "I am going to wed her myself."</p> - -<p>"You? Oh, Gad, you make the third!"</p> - -<p>"And there is, as you know, luck in odd numbers. Are you satisfied?"</p> - -<p>"Satisfied? Damme, no! The girl's lovely! I've a mind to her."</p> - -<p>"Even though I tell you that she desires to be released?"</p> - -<p>"Even though she told it me herself!"</p> - -<p>"I trust you will allow me to persuade you?" Philip patted his -sword-hilt lovingly.</p> - -<p>A light sprang to Brenderby's eyes.</p> - -<p>"Is it a fight you're wanting? By Gad, no man has ever had need to -challenge me twice! Here? Now? Help me push the table back!"</p> - -<p>"One moment! You love a hazard, I think? I fight you for the right to -wed Mistress Cleone. If I win you relinquish all claim upon her, and -you swear never to breathe a word of what passed last night. If you -win—oh, if you win, you do as you please!"</p> - -<p>"Ay, aught you will! I've been pining for a fight for many a long day. -You're a man after my heart, stap me if you're not! Here, wait while I -fetch my sword!" He hurried out of the room, returning in a very short -time with a rapier. "I've told my man that you have come to fence with -me. But we'll lock the door in case of accidents. How does my sword -measure with yours?"</p> - -<p>Philip compared them.</p> - -<p>"Very well." His eyes danced suddenly. "<i>Dieu!</i> I never thought to -fight so strange a duel!" He pulled off his boots. "We'll fight in -wigs, yes? One is so displeasing without a hair to one's head."</p> - -<p>"A dozen, if you like!" Brenderby struggled out of his coat and vest. -"You know, you are shorter than I am. We're not fair matched."</p> - -<p>Philip laughed, tucking up his ruffles.</p> - -<p>"No matter. You see, I must win!"</p> - -<p>"Why?" Brenderby made an imaginary pass in the air.</p> - -<p>"So much depends on it," explained Philip. "Is the light fair to both?"</p> - -<p>"Fair enough," said Brenderby.</p> - -<p>"You are ready, then? <i>Eh bien!</i>"</p> - -<p>The blades met and hissed together.</p> - -<p>Opening in quarte, Brenderby seemed at first to be the better of the -two. Philip stayed on the defensive, parrying deftly and allowing -Brenderby to expend his energies. Once Brenderby's blade flashed out -and all but pinked Philip, but he managed to recover his opposition -in time. His eyes opened wider; he became more cautious. Suddenly he -descried an opening and lunged forward. There was a moment's scuffle, -and Brenderby put the murderous point aside. Then Philip seemed to -quicken. When Brenderby began to pant, Philip changed his tactics, and -gave back thrust for thrust. His wrist was like flexible steel; his -footwork was superb; the whole style of his fencing was different from -that of Brenderby.</p> - -<p>All at once Brenderby saw an opening. He thrust in quinte, steel -scraped against steel, and Philip's point flashed into his right arm -above the elbow.</p> - -<p>Brenderby staggered back, clutched at his arm, and tried to raise his -sword again. But Philip was at his side, supporting him.</p> - -<p>"It's only a flesh wound—painful now—<i>bien sûr</i>. It will—heal -quickly. I do not—mistake," he gasped.</p> - -<p>"Damme—I'm not done for—yet!"</p> - -<p>"But yes! I fight—no more. You cannot—keep your blade—steady—now! -Sit down!" He lowered Brenderby into a chair, and whisked out his -handkerchief. He bound up Sir Deryk's wound and fetched him a glass of -wine from a decanter on the sideboard.</p> - -<p>"Thanks!" Sir Deryk gulped it down. "But where are my manners? Pour -some for yourself, Jettan! Gad, but you pinked me neatly!" He seemed to -slip back into his habitual drawl. "As pretty a piece of sword-play as -I wish to see. But you fence French-fashion."</p> - -<p>Philip drank some wine.</p> - -<p>"Yes. It was at Paris that I learned. With Guillaume Corvoisier."</p> - -<p>"No!" Brenderby heaved himself up. "Corvoisier, forsooth! No wonder -you're so quick!"</p> - -<p>Philip smiled and bowed.</p> - -<p>"You frightened me more than once, sir."</p> - -<p>"Faith, it wasn't apparent then! You were so intent on winning?"</p> - -<p>"It means so much, you see," said Philip simply. "My whole life's -happiness."</p> - -<p>"What! You really intend to wed Cleone?"</p> - -<p>Again Philip bowed.</p> - -<p>"I have always intended to wed her."</p> - -<p>"You?" Brenderby stared. "I never knew that! What of that young sprig -Winton?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I think I can persuade James!"</p> - -<p>"Like this?" Brenderby glanced down at his arm.</p> - -<p>"No, not like that. Tell me, sir, did you intend to wed Mademoiselle?"</p> - -<p>"Heaven forbid! I've no mind to tie myself up yet awhile. Your entrance -last night forced me to say what I did to spare the lady's blushes. I'd -no notion of continuing the comedy, until young Winton thrust in with -his prior claim. Gad, but 'twas amusing! Did you not find it so?"</p> - -<p>"I? No. But I was closely concerned in the affair, you see. I may take -it that you will say naught of last night's work?"</p> - -<p>"Of course not. 'Twas a mad jest, but I'd not let it go so far as to -damage a lady's reputation. And you may tell Mistress Cleone that I -apologise—for what happened before. She's too damnably beautiful."</p> - -<p>Philip worked himself into his coat.</p> - -<p>"'Damnably' is not the word I should employ, but <i>n'importe</i>." He sat -down and started to pull on his boots. "I have enjoyed myself. I said I -should."</p> - -<p>"Tare an' 'ouns, so have I! It's an age since I've had a sword in my -hand. I am indebted to you, sir."</p> - -<p>"Yes, you are out of practice. I thank the kind fates for that!"</p> - -<p>"Ay, I'd have kept you at it longer, but I don't know that the issue -would have been different. You must go?"</p> - -<p>Philip picked up his hat.</p> - -<p>"I must. I have to thank you for—"</p> - -<p>"Oh, stuff! I'd no notion of holding Cleone to her promise, but I could -not resist the offer of a fight. I wish you could see how monstrous -amusing it was, though!"</p> - -<p>Philip laughed.</p> - -<p>"Had it been anyone but Cleone I might have been able to appreciate the -humour of the situation! I trust the wound will heal quickly."</p> - -<p>"Oh, that's naught! A mere prick, but I was winded. Fare ye well, -Jettan. My felicitations! You felicitated me last night, did you not?" -He laughed.</p> - -<p>"With black murder in my heart!" nodded Philip. "I do not say good bye, -but <i>au revoir</i>!"</p> - -<p>"Here's my hand on it then—my left hand, alack!"</p> - -<p>Philip grasped it. Brenderby accompanied him to the front door and -waved to him as he ran down the steps.</p> - -<p>"<i>Bonne chance</i>, as you'd say yourself! <i>Au 'voir!</i>"</p> - -<p>Philip waved back at him and turned to hail a passing chair. He -instructed the bearers to carry him to Jermyn Street.</p> - -<p>It seemed that the luck was indeed with him, for he arrived just as -James was descending the steps of his house. Philip sprang out, paid -the chairmen, and took Winton's arm.</p> - -<p>"My friend, a word with you!"</p> - -<p>"Yes?" said James. "You seem excited, Philip."</p> - -<p>"It's what I am, then. I've come to speak to you of Cleone."</p> - -<p>James stiffened.</p> - -<p>"I'll not give her up to that fellow Brenderby!" he said fiercely. -"It's more than flesh and blood can bear."</p> - -<p>"Assuredly. But will you give her up to me?"</p> - -<p>James turned to stare at him.</p> - -<p>"You? But she is to wed Brenderby!"</p> - -<p>"Ah, but no! that is at an end. Brenderby releases her. He is not so -bad a man as you think. <i>En effet</i>, I like him."</p> - -<p>"I loathe the sight of him, drawling fop!"</p> - -<p>"To-day I have seen him in another light. But that is not what I have -to say. Cleone does not wish to marry you, <i>mon enfant</i>, and it is -churlish to persist."</p> - -<p>"I know she'll never marry me," answered James gloomily. "I only held -her to her word because I thought she'd have Brenderby if I did not."</p> - -<p>"I understand. You'll release her—for me?"</p> - -<p>"I suppose so. Why did you say naught last night?"</p> - -<p>"There were reasons. They no longer exist. Come, Jamie, don't look so -glum! You are young yet."</p> - -<p>"It's easy to say that. Oh, I knew I never had a chance with her! I -congratulate you, Philip."</p> - -<p>Philip pressed his arm.</p> - -<p>"My thanks. You're very generous! And now I must fly!"</p> - -<p>"Where? May I accompany you?"</p> - -<p>"Again many thanks, but no! I have an engagement. <i>Au revoir, mon -cher!</i>"</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="Nineteen" id="Nineteen"><span class="smcap">Nineteen</span></a><br /> -<span class="smcap">Philip Justifies His Chin</span></h2> - - -<p>Once more Lady Malmerstoke's page went up to the boudoir.</p> - -<p>"Mistah Philip Jettan is below, m'lady!"</p> - -<p>Up started Cleone.</p> - -<p>"I will not see him! Aunt Sarah, I beg you will go to him! Please spare -me this—humiliation!"</p> - -<p>Lady Malmerstoke waved her aside.</p> - -<p>"Admit him, Sambo. Yes, here. Cleone, control yourself!"</p> - -<p>"I can't see him! I can't! I can't! How <i>can</i> I face him?"</p> - -<p>"Turn your back, then," said her unsympathetic aunt. "I wonder what he -has done?"</p> - -<p>"D-do you think he—could have—arranged everything?" asked Cleone, -with a gleam of hope.</p> - -<p>"From what I have seen of him, I should say yes. A masterful young man, -my dear. Else why that chin?" She moved to the door. Philip came in, -immaculate as ever. "Ah, Philip!"</p> - -<p>Philip shot a look past her. Cleone had fled to the window. He bent and -kissed Lady Malmerstoke's hand.</p> - -<p>"<i>Bonjour, madame!</i>" He held open the door and bowed.</p> - -<p>Her ladyship laughed.</p> - -<p>"What! Turning me from my own boudoir?"</p> - -<p>"If you please, madame."</p> - -<p>"Aunt—Sarah!" The whisper came from the window.</p> - -<p>Philip smiled faintly.</p> - -<p>"Madame...."</p> - -<p>"Oh, that chin!" said her ladyship, and patted it. She went out and -Philip closed the door behind her.</p> - -<p>Cleone's fingers clasped one another desperately. Her heart seemed to -have jumped into her throat. It almost choked her. She dared not look -round. She heard the rustle of Philip's coat-skirts. Never, never had -she felt so ashamed, or so frightened.</p> - -<p>"Your devoted servant, mademoiselle!"</p> - -<p>Cleone could not speak. She stood where she was, trembling -uncontrollably.</p> - -<p>"I have the honour of informing you, mademoiselle, that you are -released from your engagements."</p> - -<p>Was there a note of laughter in the prim voice?</p> - -<p>"I—thank you—sir," whispered Cleone. Her teeth clenched in an effort -to keep back the tears. She was blinded by them, and her bosom was -heaving.</p> - -<p>There was a slight pause. Why did he not go? Did he wish to see her -still more humiliated?</p> - -<p>"I have also to offer, on Sir Deryk's behalf, his apologies for the -happenings of last night, mademoiselle."</p> - -<p>"Th—thank—you, sir."</p> - -<p>Again the nerve-killing silence. If only he would go before she broke -down!</p> - -<p>"Cleone...." said Philip gently.</p> - -<p>The tears were running down her cheeks, but she kept her head turned -away.</p> - -<p>"Please—go!" she begged huskily.</p> - -<p>He was coming across the room towards her.... Cleone gripped her hands.</p> - -<p>"Cleone ... dearest!"</p> - -<p>A heartbroken sob betrayed her. Philip took her in his arms.</p> - -<p>"My sweetheart! Crying? Oh no, no! There is naught now to distress -you."</p> - -<p>The feel of his arms about her was sheer bliss; their strength was like -a haven of refuge. Yet Cleone tried to thrust him away.</p> - -<p>"What—must you—think of me!" she sobbed.</p> - -<p>He drew her closer, till her head rested against his shoulder.</p> - -<p>"Why, that you are a dear, foolish, naughty little Cleone. <i>Chérie</i>, -don't cry. It is only your Philip—your own Philip, who has always -loved you, and only you. Look up, my darling, look up!"</p> - -<p>Cleone gave way to the insistence of his arms.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Philip—forgive me!" she wept. "I have—been mad!" She raised her -head and Philips arms tightened still more. He bent over her and kissed -her parted lips almost fiercely.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Later, seated beside him on the couch, her head on his shoulder, and -his arm about her, Cleone gave a great sigh.</p> - -<p>"But why—why did you treat me so—hatefully—when you—came back, -Philip?"</p> - -<p>"I was hurt, darling, and wished to see whether you wanted the real -me—or a painted puppet. But then you changed suddenly—and I knew not -what to think."</p> - -<p>Cleone nestled closer.</p> - -<p>"Because I thought you—did not care! But oh, Philip, Philip, I have -been so unhappy!"</p> - -<p>Philip promptly kissed her.</p> - -<p>"And—last night—Philip, you don't think I—"</p> - -<p>"Sweetheart! Is it likely that I'd believe ill of you?"</p> - -<p>She hid her face.</p> - -<p>"I—I believed—ill—of you," she whispered.</p> - -<p>"But you do not believe it now, sweetheart?"</p> - -<p>"No, oh no! But—but—that duel with Mr. Bancroft. Was it—was -it—some—French lady?"</p> - -<p>Philip was silent for a moment.</p> - -<p>"No, Cleone. That is all I can say."</p> - -<p>"Was it"—her voice was breathless—"was it—me?"</p> - -<p>Philip did not answer.</p> - -<p>"It was! How wonderful!"</p> - -<p>Philip was startled.</p> - -<p>"You are pleased, Cleone? Pleased?"</p> - -<p>"Of course I am! I—oo!" She gave a little wriggle of delight. "Why did -you not tell me?"</p> - -<p>"It is not—one of the things one tells one's lady-love," said Philip.</p> - -<p>"Oh! And to-day? How did you—persuade Sir Deryk?"</p> - -<p>"Through the arm. But he had no intention of holding you to your word."</p> - -<p>Cleone grew rather rigid.</p> - -<p>"Oh—indeed? In-deed?"</p> - -<p>Philip was mystified.</p> - -<p>"You did not want to be held to it, did you, <i>chérie</i>?"</p> - -<p>"N-no. But—I don't like him, Philip."</p> - -<p>"I did not, I confess. I think I do now."</p> - -<p>"Do you? And what of James?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, James! He will recover."</p> - -<p>There was a pause while Cleone digested this.</p> - -<p>"Philip?"</p> - -<p>"Cleone?"</p> - -<p>"You—you—don't care for Jenny, do you?"</p> - -<p>"Jenny? Cleone, for shame! Because I was polite—"</p> - -<p>"More than that, Philip!"</p> - -<p>"Well, dearest, no one paid any heed to her or was kind. What would -you?"</p> - -<p>"It was only that? I thought—I thought—"</p> - -<p>"Cleone, you think too much," he chided her. "Next you will accuse me -of loving Ann Nutley!" It was a master-stroke, and he knew it.</p> - -<p>"You didn't? Not a tiny bit?"</p> - -<p>"Not an atom!"</p> - -<p>"And no one—in Paris?"</p> - -<p>"No one. I have pretended, but they all knew that I had already lost my -heart."</p> - -<p>"You pretended?... Oh!"</p> - -<p>"One must, sweetest."</p> - -<p>"But—"</p> - -<p>He drew her closer.</p> - -<p>"But never, most beautiful, did I become engaged—twice in one -evening!" He stifled the cry that rose to her lips.</p> - -<p>"Philip, that is ungallant, and—and hateful!"</p> - -<p>He laughed.</p> - -<p>"Is it not? Ah, Cleone! Tell me, my dearest, what is in your locket?"</p> - -<p>"Something I meant to burn," she murmured.</p> - -<p>"But did not?"</p> - -<p>"No—I could not." She fumbled at her bosom and drew out the trinket. -"See for yourself, Philip."</p> - -<p>He opened it. A rolled lock of brown hair fell out and a torn scrap of -parchment. Philip turned it over.</p> - -<p>"Yours till death, Philip," he read. "Cleone, my love."</p> - -<p>She buried her face on his shoulder.</p> - -<p>"Your—hair—your poor hair!" she said.</p> - -<p>"All gone! Look up, Cleone!"</p> - -<p>She lifted her face. He gazed down at her, rapt.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Cleone—I shall write a sonnet to your wonderful eyes!" he -breathed.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="Twenty" id="Twenty"><span class="smcap">Twenty</span></a><br /> -<span class="smcap">Mademoiselle de Chaucheron Rings Down the Curtain</span></h2> - - -<p>Sir Maurice Jettan stood in the withdrawing-room of the Hotel Cleone -and studied himself in the glass. He smiled a little and straightened -his shoulders.</p> - -<p>There came a swish of skirts in the passage without, and the door -opened. In walked Cleone, a fair vision in a gown of pure white satin -and lace.</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice turned. He raised his quizzing-glass the better to inspect -his daughter-in-law.</p> - -<p>"Upon my soul, Cleone!" he ejaculated.</p> - -<p>Cleone swept him a curtsey, laughing.</p> - -<p>"Is it not ridiculous? Philip insisted. Wait till you see him!" She ran -to the mirror. "Do you like the way my hair is dressed, father?"</p> - -<p>"I am struck dumb by the whole effect!" answered Sir Maurice. "Yes, I -like that white rose in your hair."</p> - -<p>"Oh, you must tell Philip that! He spent hours and hours trying -to place it to his entire satisfaction! It has been terrible, <i>je -t'assure</i>. Yes, I am beginning to acquire an accent, am I not? Philip -nearly tore his beautiful wig in his anxiety!" She re-arranged the -roses at her breast. "At one time I expected him to summon François to -his assistance. But he refrained, and here am I!"</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice sat down.</p> - -<p>"Has he been dressing you, my dear?"</p> - -<p>"Has he—! For the past three hours, sir! He has driven my maid -distracted." She started to count on her fingers. "He spent half an -hour superintending my hair-dressing and another half an hour placing -this rose and the pearls. Then half an hour went to my patches—this is -when he nearly tore his wig!—he could not decide where to put them. -The arrangement of my gown occupied quite an hour in all. And then he -was much put out over my jewels." She held up her fingers. "I vow they -are red and sore, sir! I have had rings pushed on them, and dragged -off them, until I was nigh screaming with impatience! But now I am -dressed—and I have been told on pain of Philip's direst wrath to <i>n'y -toucher pas</i>!" She sat down on the couch beside Sir Maurice and slipped -her hand in his. "Is he not absurd? And oh, I am prodigious nervous!"</p> - -<p>"Why, my dear? What should make you so?"</p> - -<p>"You see, it is my first appearance in Paris—it is to be my first -ball—and I am so afraid I shall not understand what is said to me, -or—or something mortifying!"</p> - -<p>"Not understand? Nonsense, Clo! Why, you have talked hardly any English -since you have been married."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but I am not at all fluent. Philip says everyone will be most -amiable, but—oh, dear!"</p> - -<p>At that moment François darted into the room, a harassed frown on his -face.</p> - -<p>"Ah, <i>pardon, madame! Pardon, m'sieu'! Je cherche la tabatière de -m'sieu' Philippe!</i>"</p> - -<p>"<i>Laquelle?</i>" asked Cleone. Sir Maurice was amused by her serious air. -"The one with the pearls?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Mais oui, madame.</i> It is this fool of a Jacques who has lost it, -<i>sans doute</i>! Ah, <i>la voilà</i>!" He seized the errant box and skipped out -again. Cleone breathed a sigh of relief.</p> - -<p>"How terrible if it had been really lost!" she said.</p> - -<p>Sir Maurice laughed.</p> - -<p>"Would it have been so great a catastrophe?"</p> - -<p>"But of course! It matches his dress, you understand."</p> - -<p>"I see." Sir Maurice smothered another laugh. "My dear, do you know -that it is three years since last I was in this city of cities?"</p> - -<p>"Is it? Don't you think it is a wonderful place? Philip took me for a -walk yesterday, and I was enchanted! And this house—I know I shall -never bear to leave it! Philip says that the Hotel Cleone will be the -most fashionable one in Paris! I was so surprised when he brought me -here! I had no idea that there was a house waiting for me. He and -François got all ready the week before our marriage! I've never been so -happy in my life! And to-night I am to see Philip in what he calls his -milieu. He tells me he was never at home in London."</p> - -<p>"Philip in his milieu. Paris." Sir Maurice smiled down at her. "When I -think of what Philip was not quite a year ago...."</p> - -<p>"It seems impossible, doesn't it? But oh, I am glad now that I sent him -away. He is quite, quite perfect!"</p> - -<p>"H'm!" said Sir Maurice.</p> - -<p>Cleone laughed at him.</p> - -<p>"You pretend! I know how proud you are!"</p> - -<p>"Minx! I confess I am curious to see Philip in his Parisian Society. No -one knows that he is here?"</p> - -<p>"Not a soul. He insisted on guarding the secret until he could make a -really dramatic appearance at the Duchesse de Sauverin's ball to-night. -He is mad, you know, quite mad! Oh, here he is!"</p> - -<p>Philip came into the room with a rustle of stiff silks. Sir Maurice -started at him.</p> - -<p>"Good God, Philip, what audacity!"</p> - -<p>From head to foot his son was clad in white. The only splash of colour -was the red heels of his shoes; his only jewels were pearls and -diamonds; on the lapel of his coat he wore a single white rose.</p> - -<p>"Isn't it ridiculous?" said Cleone. "But doesn't he look beautiful?"</p> - -<p>"Stand up, child, and let me see you side by side.... Yes. What -audacity! Had I known, I would have attired myself in black—the old -man at the ball."</p> - -<p>"'Twould have made an excellent foil," agreed Philip. "But no matter. -Cleone, you have re-arranged your roses!"</p> - -<p>Cleone backed, warding him off.</p> - -<p>"I cry your pardon, sir! Oh no, let me be!"</p> - -<p>Philip came to her, and with deft fingers pulled the flowers into -position.</p> - -<p>"One of them must kiss your skin, so! To show that it is no whiter than -the skin. <i>Voilà, c'est bien!</i>"</p> - -<p>"Who is likely to be at the ball to-night, Philip?" asked his father.</p> - -<p>"<i>Tout le monde.</i> One always goes to Madame de Sauverin's balls. It is -de rigueur."</p> - -<p>"We shall be late!" warned Cleone. "Oh, we are late now!"</p> - -<p>"That is also de rigueur," said Philip.</p> - -<p>"Sir Maurice, <i>M'sieu', et Madame Jettan</i>!" announced the lackey.</p> - -<p>There was a sudden hush. All eyes turned to the late-comers. In the -doorway stood a tall gentleman, at his side two dazzling visions in -white.</p> - -<p>Madame de Sauverin stared for a moment in wonderment. Then she hurried -forward, hands outstretched.</p> - -<p>"Philippe!"</p> - -<p>"Philippe! <i>Le petit</i> Philippe!" A score of voices took up the cry. -Nearly everyone there surged forward.</p> - -<p>Philip kissed Madame's hand.</p> - -<p>"<i>Chère madame!</i> I may present my wife? My father you know."</p> - -<p>Cleone curtseyed low.</p> - -<p>"Your—wife!" Madame took Cleone's hands. "<i>Voyons, voyons, notre petit -Philippe s'est</i> éspousé! <i>Et Maurice!</i>"</p> - -<p>Philip and Cleone were at the centre of a welcoming throng. Cleone's -hand was kissed a dozen times. Delighted questions were shot at Philip.</p> - -<p>Saint-Dantin grasped his hand.</p> - -<p>"<i>Mon cher petit!</i> You have returned at last? <i>Et madame!</i>" He bowed -to the blushing Cleone. "There is no need to ask who is, <i>madame</i>." He -smiled at her. "It is evident that her name is Cleone!"</p> - -<p>De Vangrisse pressed forward.</p> - -<p>"The mysterious Cleone! <i>Madame, votre serviteur!</i> We have all longed -to see the lady who so consistently held Philip's heart!"</p> - -<p>"Philippe, how long have you been in Paris?" demanded De Chatelin. "You -are going to remain? <i>Ah bon!</i>"</p> - -<p>"Philippe, have you an ode for the occasion?" asked another laughing -voice.</p> - -<p>Clothilde de Chaucheron pushed through the ring.</p> - -<p>"<i>Le petit Philippe au cœur perdu!</i>" she cried.</p> - -<p>Philip disengaged himself from the clutches of Saint-Dantin and took -his wife's hand.</p> - -<p>"<i>Mademoiselle de Chaucheron, chérie</i>," he said, and bowed.</p> - -<p>Clothilde gazed at Cleone for a moment. Then she swept a deep curtsey.</p> - -<p>"<i>Je me trompe</i>," she said, smiling. "<i>Le petit Philippe au cœur -trouvé.</i>"</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Transformation of Philip Jettan, by -Georgette Heyer and Stella Martin - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRANSFORMATION OF PHILIP JETTAN *** - -***** This file should be named 60776-h.htm or 60776-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/7/7/60776/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: The Transformation of Philip Jettan - -Author: Georgette Heyer - Stella Martin - -Illustrator: J.C. Leyendecker - -Release Date: November 25, 2019 [EBook #60776] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRANSFORMATION OF PHILIP JETTAN *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - THE TRANSFORMATION OF - PHILIP JETTAN - - GEORGETTE HEYER - - _Bibliographical Note_ - - First publication: Mills & Boon, London, 1923 - - The original edition was published with the subtitle - _A Comedy of Manners_, - and the author used the pseudonym Stella Martin. - The book was later published as _Powder and Patch_, - with Chapter Twenty deleted. - - - - - One - - The House of Jettan - - -If you searched among the Downs in Sussex, somewhere between Midhurst -and Brighthelmstone, inland a little, and nestling in modest seclusion -between two waves of hills, you would find Little Fittledean, a village -round which three gentlemen had built their homes. One chose the north -side, half a mile away, and on the slope of the Downs. He was Mr. -Winton, a dull man with no wife, but two children, James and Jennifer. -The second built his house west of the village, not far from the London -Road and Great Fittledean. He was one Sir Thomas Jettan. He chose his -site carefully, beside a wood, and laid out gardens after the Dutch -style. That was way back in the last century when Charles the Second -was King, and what had then been a glaring white erection, stark-naked -and blatant in its sylvan setting, was now, some seventy years later, a -fair place, creeper-hung, and made kindly by the passing of the years. -The Jettan who built it became inordinately proud of the house. Never -a day passed but he would strut round the grounds, looking at the nude -structure from a hundred different points of vantage. It was to be the -country seat of the Jettans in their old age; they were to think of it -almost as they would think of their children. It was never to be sold; -it was to pass from father to son and from son to grandson through -countless ages. Nor must it accrue to a female heir, be she never so -direct, for old Tom determined that the name of Jettan should always -be associated with the house. - -Old Tom propounded these notions to the whole countryside. All his -friends and his acquaintances were shown the white house and told -the tale of its owner's past misdemeanours and his present virtue--a -virtue due, he assured them, to the possession of so fair an estate. -No more would he pursue the butterfly existence that all his ancestors -had pursued before him. This house was his anchor and his interest; he -would rear his two sons to reverence it, and it might even be that the -tradition which held every Jettan to be a wild fellow at heart should -be broken at last. - -The neighbours laughed behind their hands at old Tom's childishness. -They dubbed the hitherto unnamed house "Tom's Pride," in good-humoured -raillery. - -Tom Jettan was busy thinking out a suitable name for his home when the -countryside's nickname came to his ears. He was not without humour in -spite of his vanity, and when the sobriquet had sunk into his brain, he -chuckled deep in his chest, and slapped his knee in appreciation. Not a -month later the neighbours were horrified to find, cunningly inserted -in the wrought-iron gates of the white house, a gilded scroll bearing -the legend, "Jettan's Pride." No little apprehension was felt amongst -them at having their secret joke thus discovered and utilised, and -those who next waited on Tom did so with an air of ashamed nervousness. -But Tom soon made it clear that, far from being offended, he was -grateful to them for finding an appropriate name for his home. - -His hopeful prophecy concerning the breaking of tradition was not -realised in either of his sons. The elder, Maurice, sowed all the wild -oats of which he was capable before taking up his abode at the Pride; -the other, Thomas, never ceased sowing wild oats, and showed no love -for the house whatsoever. - -When old Tom died he left a will which gave Maurice to understand that -if, by the time he was fifty years of age, he still refused to settle -down at the Pride, it was to pass to his brother and his brother's -heirs. - -Thomas counselled Maurice to marry and produce some children. - -"For damme if I do, my boy! The old man must have lost his faculties -to expect a Jettan to live in this hole! I tell ye flat, Maurice, I'll -not have the place. 'Tis you who are the elder, and you must assume -the--the responsibilities!" At that he fell a-chuckling, for he was an -irrepressible scamp. - -"Certainly I shall live here," answered Maurice. "Three months here, -and nine months--not here. What's to stop me?" - -"Does the will allow it?" asked Tom doubtfully. - -"It does not forbid it. And I shall get me a wife." - -At that Tom burst out laughing, but checked himself hurriedly as he met -his brother's reproving eye. - -"God save us, and the old gentleman but three days dead! Not that I -meant any disrespect, y'know. Faith, the old man 'ud be the first to -laugh with me, stap me if he wouldn't!" He stifled another laugh, and -shrugged his shoulders. "Or he would before he went crazy-pious over -this devilish great barn of a house. You'll never have the money to -keep it, Maurry," he added cheerfully, "let alone a wife." - -Maurice twirled his eyeglass, frowning. - -"My father has left even more than I expected," he said. - -"Oh ay! But it'll be gone after a week's play! God ha' mercy, Maurry, -do ye hope to husband it?" - -"Nay, I hope to husband a wife. The rest I'll leave to her." - -Tom came heavily to his feet. He stared at his brother, round-eyed. - -"Blister me, but I believe the place is turning you like the old -gentleman! Now, Maurry, Maurry, stiffen your back, man!" - -Maurice smiled. - -"It'll take more than the Pride to reform me, Tom. I'm thinking that -the place is too good to sell or throw away." - -"If I could lay my hand on two thousand guineas," said Tom, "anyone -could have the Pride for me!" - -Maurice looked up quickly. - -"Why, Tom, all I've got's yours, you know very well! Take what you -want--two thousand or twenty." - -"Devilish good of you, Maurry, but I'll not sponge on you yet. No, -don't start to argue with me, for my head's not strong enough what -with one thing and another. Tell me more of this wife of yours. Who is -it to be?" - -"I haven't decided," replied Maurice. He yawned slightly. "There are so -many to choose from." - -"Ay--you're an attractive devil--'pon my word you are! What d'ye say to -Lucy Farmer?" - -Maurice shuddered. - -"Spare me. I had thought of Marianne Tempest." - -"What, old Castlehill's daughter? She'd kill you in a month, lad." - -"But she is not--dowerless." - -"No. But think of it, Maurry! Think of it! A shrew at twenty!" - -"Then what do you think of Jane Butterfield?" - -Thomas pulled at his lip, irresolute. - -"I'm not decrying the girl, Maurice, but Lord! could you live with her?" - -"I've not essayed it," answered Maurice. - -"No, and marriage is so damned final! 'Tisn't as though ye could live -together for a month or so before ye made up your minds. I doubt the -girl would not consent to that." - -"And if she did consent, one would not desire to wed her," remarked -Maurice. "A pity. No, I believe I could not live with Jane." - -Thomas sat down again. - -"The truth of it is, Maurry, we Jettans must marry for love. There's -not one of us ever married without it, whether for money or no." - -"'Tis so unfashionable," objected Maurice. "One marries for -convenience. One may have fifty different loves." - -"What! All at once? I think you'd find that a trifle inconvenient, -Maurry! Lord! just fancy fifty loves, oh, the devil! And three's enough -to drive one crazed, bruise me if 'tis not." - -Maurice's thin lips twitched responsively. - -"Gad no! Fifty loves spread over a lifetime, and you're not bound to -one of them. There's bliss, Tom, you rogue!" - -Thomas shook a wise finger at him, his plump, good-humoured face solemn -all at once. - -"And not one of them's the true love, Maurry. For if she were, faith, -she'd not be one of fifty! Now, you take my advice, lad, and wait. -Damme, we'll not spoil the family record! - - - "A rakish youth, says the Jettan adage, - Marriage for love, and a staid old age. - -"I don't know that it's true about the staid old age, though. Maybe -'tis only those who wed for love who acquire virtue. Anyway, you'll not -break the second maxim, Maurry." - -"Oh?" smiled Maurice. "What's to prevent me?" - -Thomas had risen again. Now he slipped his arm in his brother's. - -"If it comes to prevention, old sobersides, I'm game. I'll make an -uproar in the church and carry off the bride. Gad, but 'twould be -amusing! Carry off one's brother's bride, under his stern nose. Devil -take it, Maurry, that's just what your nose is! I never thought on't -before--stern, grim, old--now, steady, Tom, my boy, or you'll be -laughing again with the old gentleman not yet underground!" - -Maurice waited for his brother's mirth to abate. - -"But, Tom, 'tis very well for you to counsel me not to wed without -love! I must marry, for 'tis certain you'll not, and we must have -heirs. What's to be done, I'd like to know?" - -"Wait, lad, wait! You're not so old that you can't afford to hold back -yet awhile." - -"I'm thirty-five, Tom." - -"Then you have fifteen years to run before you need settle down. Take -my advice, and wait!" - -The end of it was that Maurice did wait. For four years he continued -to rove through Europe, amusing himself in the usual way of gentlemen -of his day, but in 1729 he wrote a long letter from Paris to his -brother in London, declaring himself in love, and the lady an angel -of goodness, sweetness, amiability, and affection. He said much more -in this vein, all of which Tom had to read, yawning and chuckling by -turns. The lady was one Maria Marchant. She brought with her a fair -dowry and a placid disposition. So Tom wrote off to Maurice at once, -congratulating him, and bestowing his blessing on the alliance. He -desired his dear old Maurry to quit travelling, and to come home to his -affectionate brother Tom. - -In a postscript he added that he dropped five hundred guineas at -Newmarket, only to win fifteen hundred at dice the very next week, so -that had it not been for his plaguey ill-luck in the matter of a small -wager with Harry Besham, he would to-day be the most care-free of -mortals, instead of a jaded creature, creeping about in terror of the -bailiffs from hour to hour. - -After that there was no more correspondence. Neither brother felt that -there was anything further to be said, and they were not men to waste -their time writing to one another for no urgent matter. Thomas thought -very little more about Maurice's marriage. He supposed that the wedding -would take place in England before many months had gone by; possibly -Maurice would see fit to return at once, as he, Tom, had suggested. -In the meantime, there was nothing to be done. Tom laid his brother's -letter aside, and went on with his ordinary occupations. - -He lived in Half-Moon Street. His house was ruled by his cook, the wife -of Moggat, his valet-footman. She also ruled the hapless Moggat. Moggat -retaliated by ruling his jovial master as far as he was able, so one -might really say Mrs. Moggat ruled them all. As Tom was quite unaware -of this fact, it troubled him not a whit. - -A month after he had answered his brother's letter, Tom was disturbed -one morning while he sipped his chocolate with the news that a -gentleman wished to speak to him. Tom was in his bed-chamber, his round -person swathed in a silken wrapper of astonishing brightness. He had -not yet doffed his nightcap, and his wig lay on the dressing-table. - -The lean, long Moggat crept in at the door, which he seemed hardly to -open, and ahem'd directly behind his master. - -Tom was in the act of swallowing his chocolate, and as he had not heard -Moggat's slithering approach, the violent clearing of that worthy's -throat startled him not a little, and he choked. - -Tenderly solicitous, Moggat patted him on the back until the coughs and -splutters had abated. Tom bounced round in his chair to face the man. - -"Damn and curse it, Moggat! What d'ye mean by it? What d'ye mean by it, -I say? Crawling into a room to make a noise at me just as I'm drinking! -Yes, sir! Just as I'm drinking! Devil take you! D'ye hear me? Devil -take you!" - -Moggat listened in mournful silence. When Tom ceased for want -of breath, he bowed, and continued as though there had been no -interruption. - -"There is a gentleman below, sir, as desires to have speech with you." - -"A gentleman? Don't you know that gentlemen don't come calling at this -hour, ye ninny-pated jackass? Bring me some more chocolate!" - -"Yes, sir, a gentleman." - -"I tell you no gentleman would disturb another at this hour! Have done -now, Moggat!" - -"And although I told the gentleman, sir, as how my master was not yet -robed and accordingly could not see any visitors, he said it was of no -consequence to him whatsoever, and he would be obliged to you to ask -him upstairs at once, sir. So I--" - -"Confound his impudence!" growled Tom. "What's his name?" - -"The gentleman, sir, on my asking what name I was to tell you, gave me -to understand that it was of no matter." - -"Devil take him! Show him out, Moggat! Like as not 'tis one of these -cursed bailiffs. Why, you fool, what d'ye mean by letting him in?" - -Moggat sighed in patient resignation. - -"If you will allow me to say so, sir, this gentleman is not a bailiff." - -"Well, who is he?" - -"I regret, sir, I do not know." - -"You're a fool! What's this fellow like?" - -"The gentleman"--Moggat laid ever so little stress on the word--"is -tall, sir, and--er--slim. He is somewhat dark as regards eyes and -brows, and he is dressed, if I may say so, exceedingly modishly, with -a point-edged hat, and very full-skirted puce coat, laced, French -fashion, with--" - -Tom snatched his nightcap off and threw it at Moggat. - -"Numskull! D'ye think I want a list of his clothes? Show him out, the -swarthy rogue! Show him out!" - -Moggat picked up the nightcap, and smoothed it sadly. - -"The gentleman seems anxious to see you, sir." - -"Ay! Trying to dun me, the rascal! Don't I know it! Blustering and--" - -"No, sir," said Moggat firmly. "I could not truthfully say that the -gentleman blustered. Indeed, sir, if I may say so, I think him a -singularly quiet, cool gentleman. Very soft-spoken, sir--oh, very -soft-spoken!" - -"Take him away!" shouted Tom. "I tell you I'll not be pestered at this -hour! I might be asleep, damme! Tell the fellow to come again at a -godly time--not at dawn! Now, don't try to argue, Moggat! I tell you, -if it were my brother himself, I'd not see him!" - -Moggat bowed again. - -"I will hinform the gentleman, sir." - -When the door closed behind Moggat, Tom leaned back in his chair and -picked up one of his letters. Not five minutes later the door creaked -again. Tom turned, to find Moggat at his elbow. - -"Eh? What d'ye want?" - -"Hif you please, sir, the gentleman says as how he is your brother," -said Moggat gently. - -Tom jumped as though he had been shot. - -"What? My brother? What d'ye mean? My brother?" - -"Sir Maurice, sir." - -Up flew Tom, catching at his wig and cramming it on his head all awry. - -"Thunder an' turf! Maurry! Here, you raving wooden-pate! How dare you -leave my brother downstairs? How dare you, I say?" He wrapped himself -more tightly in his robe than ever, and dashed headlong out of the -room, down the stairs to where Maurice awaited him. - -Sir Maurice was standing by the window in the library, drumming his -fingers on the sill. At his brother's tempestuous entrance he turned -and bowed. - -"A nice welcome you give me, Tom! 'Tell him to come again at a godly -time--I'd not see him if 'twere my brother himself,' forsooth!" - -Thomas hopped across the room and seized both Maurice's long, thin -hands in his plump, chubby ones. - -"My dear Maurry! My dear old fellow! I'd no notion 'twas you! My dolt -of a lackey--but there! When did you arrive in England?" - -"A week ago. I have been at the Pride." - -"A week? What a plague d'ye mean by not coming to me till now, ye -rogue?" As he spoke, Tom thrust Maurice into a chair, and himself sat -down opposite him, beaming with pleasure. - -Maurice leaned back, crossing his legs. A little smile flickered across -his mouth, but his eyes were solemn as he answered. - -"I had first to see my wife installed in her new home," he said. - -For a moment Tom stared at him. - -"Wife? Tare an' 'ouns, ye don't waste your time! Where and when did you -marry the lady?" - -"Three weeks ago, at Paris. Now I have come home to fulfil the last -part of the Jettan adage." - -"God ha' mercy!" ejaculated Thomas. "Not a staid old age, lad! Not you?" - -"Something like it," nodded Maurice. "Wait till you have seen my wife!" - -"Ay, I'm waiting," said Tom. "What's to do now, then? The country -squire, and half a dozen children?" - -The grey eyes twinkled. - -"Tom, I'll thank you not to be so coarse." - -"Coarse? _Coarse?_ Gad, Maurice, what's come over you?" - -"I am a married man," replied Maurice. "As such I have--er--learned to -guard my tongue. My wife--" - -"Maurry, couldn't ye call the lady by her name?" begged Tom. "Faith, I -can't bear those two words so often, proud though ye may be of them." - -Maurice flushed slightly and smiled. - -"Maria, then. She is a very--sweet, delicate lady." - -"Lord! I'd made up my mind you'd wed a bold, strapping wench with a -saucy smile, Maurry!" - -"I? Good God, no! My w--Maria is gentle, and meek, and--" - -"Ay, ay, Maurry, I know!" hastily interrupted Thomas. "I must see her -for myself, so don't spoil the surprise for me, there's a good fellow! -Now have you breakfasted? No? Then come upstairs with me. Where's -that rascal Moggat? Moggat! Moggat! Ah, there you are! Go and prepare -breakfast at once, man! And bring some more chocolate to my room." -He wrapped the voluminous robe about him once more, and, seizing his -brother by the arm, led him forth to the staircase. - - * * * * * - -Thus it was that Maurice Jettan brought home his bride. She was a -gentle lady, with a sweet disposition; she adored her handsome husband, -and duly presented him with a son, Philip. When the babe was shown -to him, Tom discovered that he was a true Jettan, with all their -characteristics. His father confessed that he saw no resemblance -either to himself or to anyone, but he was nevertheless gratified by -his brother's remarks. Tom chuckled mightily and prophesied that young -Philip would prove himself a Jettan in more ways than one. He hinted at -a youth which should surpass his father's in brilliancy, and Maurice -smiled, looking proudly down at the red, crumpled face. - -"And," concluded Tom, "he'll have a papa who can advise him in all -matters of fashion better than any man I know. Why, Maurice, you will -show him the fashionable world! You must take care you do not stagnate -here. You must not fall out of Society." - -Maurice was still smiling down at his offspring. - -"No. I must not fall out, Tom. The youngster will need me later on." - - * * * * * - -For five years he continued to take his place in London Society, but -he found that the desire for excitement and gaiety was growing less -and less within him. The death of Maria gave this desire the _coup de -grace_. Maurice took his small son down to the Pride as soon as he had -recovered from the first shock of bereavement, and after that for some -years he rarely visited London, except sometimes to see his brother or -his tailor. Then he seemed to grow restless again, and started to spend -more time with Tom. Bit by bit he re-entered the world he had quitted, -yet never did he give himself up to it as once he had done. The Pride -seemed to call him, and little Philip held his heart with both hands. -Thereafter he spent his time between London and the Pride. When he felt -restless, he packed his bags and flitted either to London or to Paris; -when the restlessness had passed, back he came to the Pride, there to -spend two or three peaceful months. - -When Philip was eighteen, he took him to London. Philip was very -thoroughly bored. Sir Maurice concluded that he was too young to be -introduced into Society, and he sent him back to the country, thinking -that in two or three years' time the lad would be only too anxious to -leave it. - -But the years slipped by, and Philip showed no desire to follow in -his father's footsteps. He refused to go on the Grand Tour; he cared -nothing for Dress or Fashionable Manners; he despised the life of -Courts; he preferred to remain in the country, usurping, to a great -extent, his father's position as squire. He was now some twenty-three -years old, tall and handsome, but, as his father told his uncle, "an -unpolished cub." - - - - - Two - - In Which Is Presented Mistress Cleone Charteris - - -A while back I spoke of three gentlemen who built their homes round -Little Fittledean. Of one I said but little, of the second I spoke -at length and to the tune of one whole chapter. It now behoves me to -mention the third gentleman, who chose his site on the outskirts of -the village, some two miles from Jettan's Pride, and to the east. To -reach it you must walk along the main street until the cottages grow -sparse and yet more sparse, and the cobblestones and pavement cease -altogether. The street turns then into a lane with trees flanking -it and grass growing to the sides. A few steps further, and the -moss-covered roof of Sharley House peeps above a high holly hedge which -screens the place from the passer-by. - -There lived Mr. Charteris, and his father and grandfather before him. -Mr. Charteris was the happy possessor of a wife and a daughter. It is -with the daughter that I am most concerned. - -Her name was Cleone, and she was very lovely. She had thick gold curls, -eyes of cornflower blue, and a pair of red lips that pouted or smiled -in equal fascination. She was just eighteen, and the joy and despair of -all the young men of the countryside. Particularly was she the despair -of Mr. Philip Jettan. - -Philip was head over ears in love with Cleone. He had been so ever -since she returned from the convent where she had received a slight -education. Before her departure for this convent, she and Philip, James -and Jennifer Winton, had played together and quarrelled together since -any of them could walk. Then Cleone went away to acquire polish, and -the two boys thought very little more about her, until she returned, -and then they thought of nothing else but her. The romping playfellow -was gone for ever, but in her place was a Vision. Philip and James -began to eye one another askance. - -Delighted by the new state of affairs, Cleone queened it right royally, -and played one young man against the other. But it was not long before -she found herself thinking far more about Mr. Jettan than was seemly. -He began to haunt her dreams, and when he came to visit the house her -heart fluttered a little and showed a tendency to jump into her throat. - -Cleone was stern with her heart, for there was much in Mr. Jettan that -did not meet with her approval. However masterful and handsome he might -be--and Philip was both--he was distressingly boorish in many ways. -Before her return to Sharley House Cleone had spent a few months with -her aunt, who lived in Town. Several men had made very elegant love to -her and showered compliments about her golden head. She had not cared -the snap of her fingers for any one of them, but their graceful homage -was very gratifying. Philip's speech was direct and purposeful, and his -compliments were never neat. His clothes also left much to be desired. -Cleone had an eye for colour and style; she liked her cavaliers to be -_a la mode_. Sir Matthew Trelawney, for instance, had affected the most -wonderful stockings, clocked with butterflies; Frederick King wore -so excellently fitting a coat that, it was said, he required three -men to ease him into it. Philip's coat was made for comfort; he would -have scorned the stockings of Matthew Trelawney. He even refused to -buy a wig, but wore his own brown hair brushed back from his face and -tied loosely at his neck with a piece of black ribbon. No powder, no -curls, unpolished nails, and an unpainted face--guiltless, too, of even -the smallest patch--it was, thought Cleone, enough to make one weep. -Nevertheless, she did not weep, because, for one thing, it would have -made her eyes red, and another, it would be of very little use. Philip -must be reformed, since she--well, since she did not dislike him. - -At the present time Philip had just returned from Town, whither he -had been sent by his father, ostensibly to transact some business -concerning the estate, but really that his unfashionable soul might -succumb to the delights of Town. Philip was not aware of this secret -purpose, but Cleone knew all about it. She was very fond of Sir -Maurice, and he of her. When Sir Maurice saw which way Philip looked -for a wife, he was pleased enough, although a Jettan might have cast -his eyes much higher. But Sir Maurice, mindful of the old adage, was -content to let things run their course. All that worried him was the -apparent obduracy of his son in the matter of the first prophecy. He -loved Philip, he did not wish to lose him, he liked his companionship, -but--"By God, sir, you are a damned dull dog!" - -At that young Philip's straight brows drew close over the bridge of his -nose, only to relax again as he smiled. - -"Well, sir, I hold two gay dogs in the family to be enough." - -Sir Maurice's mouth quivered responsively. - -"What's that, Philip? Do you seek to reprove me?" - -"Not a whit, sir. You are you, but I--am I." - -"So it seems," said his father. "And you being yourself have fallen in -love with a mighty pretty child; still being yourself, you are like to -be left disconsolate." - -Philip had flushed slightly at the reference to Cleone. The end of the -sentence left him frowning. - -"What mean you, sir?" - -The shrewd grey eyes, so like his own, regarded him pityingly. - -"Little Mistress Cleone will have none of you an you fail to mend your -ways, my son. Do you not know it? What has that dainty piece to do with -a raw clodhopper like yourself?" - -Philip answered low. - -"If Mistress Cleone gives me her love it will be for me as I am. She is -worthy a man, not a powdered, ruffled beau." - -"A man! _Sacre tonnerre_, 'tis what you are, _hein_? Philip, child, get -you to Town to your uncle and buy a wig." - -"No, sir, I thank you. I shall do very well without a wig." - -Sir Maurice drove his cane downwards at the floor in exasperation. - -"_Mille diables!_ You'll to Town as I say, defiant boy! You may finish -the business with that scoundrel Jenkins while you are about it!" - -Philip nodded. - -"That I will do, sir, since you wish it." - -"Bah!" retorted his father. - - * * * * * - -He had gone; now he had come back, the business details settled to -his satisfaction, but with no wig. Sir Maurice was pleased to see -him again, more pleased than he appeared, as Philip was well aware. -He listened to what his son had to tell him of Tom Jettan, failed to -glean any of the latest society gossip, and dismissed Philip from his -presence. - -Half an hour later Philip rode in at the gates of Sharley House, -sitting straight in his saddle, a pulse in his throat throbbing in -anticipation. - -Cleone saw him coming. She was seated in the parlour window, -embroidering in a languid fashion. Truth to tell, she was tired of her -own company and not at all averse from seeing Philip. As he passed the -window she bent forward a little, smiling down at him. Philip saw her -at once; indeed, he had been eyeing every window of the warm, red house -in the hope that she might be sitting in one. He reined in his horse -and bowed to her, hat in hand. - -Cleone opened the casement wider, leaning over the sill, her golden -curls falling forward under the strings of her cap. - -"Why, sir, are you back already?" she asked, dimpling. - -"Already!" he echoed. "It has been years! Ten years, Cleone!" - -"Pooh!" she said. "Ten days--not a moment more!" - -"Is that all it has seemed to you?" he said. - -Cleone's cheek became faintly tinged with pink. - -"What more?" she retorted. "'Tis all it is!" - -Into Philip's eyes came a gleam of triumph. - -"Aha! You've counted, then! Oh, Cleone!" - -The roguish look fled. - -"Oh!" cried Cleone, pouting. "How--how--monstrous--" - -"Monstrous what, dear Cleone?" - -"Impudent!" she ended. "I declare I won't see you!" As if to add weight -to this statement, she shut the casement and moved away into the room. - -Presently, however, she relented, and tripped downstairs to the -withdrawing-room, where she found Mr. Jettan paying his respects to her -mamma. She curtseyed very demurely, allowed him to kiss the tips of her -fingers, and seated herself beside Madam Charteris. - -Madam patted her hand. - -"Well, child, here is Philip returned from Town with not a word to tell -us of his gaiety!" - -Cleone raised her eyes to survey Philip. - -"Mamma, there is naught to tell. Philip is such a staid, sober person." - -"Tut-tut!" said her mother. "Now, Philip, tell us all! Did you not meet -_one_ beauty to whom you lost your heart?" - -"No, madam," answered Philip. "The painted society dames attract me not -at all." His eyes rested on Cleone as he spoke. - -"I dare say you've not yet heard the news?" Cleone said, after a slight -pause. "Or did Sir Maurice tell you?" - -"No--that is, I do not know. What is it? Good news?" - -"It remains to be seen," she replied. "'Tis that Mr. Bancroft is to -return! What think you of that?" - -Philip stiffened. - -"Bancroft? Sir Harold's son?" - -"Yes, Henry Bancroft. Is it not exciting? Only think--he has been away -nigh on eight years! Why, he must be--" she began to count on her -rosy-tipped fingers "--twenty-six, or twenty-seven. Oh, a man! I do so -wonder what he is like now!" - -"H'm!" remarked Philip. His voice held no enthusiasm. "What does he -want here?" - -Cleone's long lashes fluttered down to hide the laugh in her eyes. - -"To see his papa, of course. After so many years!" - -Philip gave vent to a sound very like a snort. - -"I'll wager there's a more potent reason! Else had he come home ere -now." - -"Well, I will tell you. Papa rode over to Great Fittledean two days -ago, and he found Sir Harold mightily amused, did he not, Mamma?" - -Madam Charteris assented vaguely. She was stitching at a length of -satin, content to drop out of the conversation. - -"Yes. It seems that Henry--" - -"Who?" Philip straightened in his chair. - -"Mr. Bancroft," said Cleone. A smile trembled on her lips. "It seems -that Mr. Bancroft has had occasion to fight a duel. Is it not too -dreadful?" - -Philip agreed with more heartiness than he had yet shown. - -"I am sure I do not know why gentlemen must fight. 'Tis very terrible, -I think. But, of course, 'tis monstrous gallant and exciting. And poor -Mr. Bancroft has been advised to leave London for a while, because some -great personage is angered. Papa did not say who was the gentleman he -fought, but Sir Harold was vastly amused." She glanced up at Philip, in -time to catch sight of the scornful frown on his face. "Oh, Philip, do -_you_ know? Have you perhaps heard?" - -"No one who has been in Town this last week could fail to have heard," -said Philip shortly. Then, very abruptly, he changed the subject. - - * * * * * - -When Philip came back to the Pride it was close on the dinner hour. He -walked slowly upstairs to change his clothes, for on that point Sir -Maurice was obdurate. He would not allow buckskins or riding-boots at -his table. He himself was fastidious to a fault. Every evening he -donned stiff satins and velvets; his thin face was painted, powdered -and patched; his wig tied with great precision in the nape of his neck. -He walked now with a stick, but his carriage was still fairly upright. -The stick was, as Philip told him, a mere affectation. - -Philip was rather silent during the first part of the meal, but when -the lackeys left the room, and Sir Maurice pushed the port towards him, -he spoke suddenly, as if the words had hovered on his tongue for some -time. - -"Father, do you hear that Bancroft is to return?" - -Sir Maurice selected a nut from the dish before him, cracking it -between his long, white fingers. - -"I believe someone told me. What of it?" - -"You said nothing of it to me." - -The grey eyes lifted. - -"Is he a friend of yours? I did not know." - -"A friend!" Philip set his glass down with a snap. "Hardly, sir!" - -"Now what's to do?" asked his father. "Why the scorn?" - -"Sir, if you could but hear the gossip about him!" - -"I have no doubt I should be vastly entertained," said Sir Maurice. -"What's the tale?" - -"The fellow is for ever embroiling himself in some low quarrel. This -time it is Lady Marchand. Faugh!" - -"Lady Marchand? Not Dolly Marchand?" - -"I believe so. Why, sir, do you know her?" - -"I--er--knew her mother. Tell me, is she as charming?" - -"As I know neither her mother, nor Lady Marchand--" - -Sir Maurice sighed. - -"No. Of course not. Go on." - -"It's a damned sordid tale, sir, and I'll spare you the details. Lord -Marchand and Bancroft fought out at Ipswich. Bancroft wounded him in -the lung, and 'tis said he'll not recover." - -"Clumsy," remarked Sir Maurice. "So Bancroft retires?" - -"The Prince of Wales is furious, as well he might be. And Bancroft -brings himself and his morals here." - -A faint smile hovered on Sir Maurice's lips. - -"And Mr. Jettan is righteously indignant. From which I gather that -Mistress Cleone is prepared to welcome this slayer of hearts. You'd -best have bought a wig, Philip." - -In spite of himself, Philip laughed. - -"Sir, you are incorrigible!" - -"_Faute de mieux._ And whence, if I may ask, did you glean all -this--sordid information, oh my righteous son?" - -"From Tom, of course. He could talk of nothing else." - -"Alack! The saint is still upon his pedestal. In fact, the story was -forced upon you. Philip, you enrage me." He looked up and met his son's -amused glance. "Yes, child, I am enraged. Pass the wine." - -Philip pushed the decanter towards him. His rather stern eyes were -twinkling. - -"I'll swear no one ever before possessed so outrageous a sire," -he said. "I've heard of some who disinherited their sons for -disreputable behaviour, but it seems you are like to disinherit me for -irreproachable conduct." - -"It's a _piquante_ situation," agreed Sir Maurice. "But I shan't -disinherit you." - -"No?" - -"Where's the use? With no money you could not hope to--ah--follow in my -footsteps. I've a mind to turn you out of the house, though." - -"Half a mind," corrected Philip. "The other half, sir, rejoices in my -unblemished reputation." - -"Does it?" Sir Maurice was mildly interested. "Faith, I did not know -that." - -"Sir, were I to break away and become as flighty as you wish, no one -would be more aghast than yourself." - -"You infer, my son, that I desire you to follow not in my footsteps, -but in--let us say, Bancroft's. Nothing could more thoroughly disgust -me." - -"Ah!" Philip leaned forward eagerly. "You admit that?" - -Sir Maurice sipped his wine. - -"Certainly. I abhor clumsiness in an _affaire_." He watched Philip -draw back. "An _affaire_ of the heart should be daintily conducted. A -Jettan should bear in mind that for him there can be only one love; -the others," he waved his hand, "should be treated with the delicacy -that they deserve. Above all, they should end lightly. I would have no -woman the worse for you, child, but I would have you know women and the -world. I would have you experience the pleasures and the displeasures -of Polite Society; I would have you taste the joys of Hazard, and the -exhilaration of your sword against another's; I would have you take -pains in the selection of a cravat, or the designing of a vest; I would -have you learn the way to turn a neat compliment and a pretty phrase; -above all, I would have you know yourself, your fellow-men, and the -world." He paused, studying his son. Then he smiled. "Well? What have -you to say to my peroration?" - -Philip answered simply, and in admiration. - -"Why, sir, that I am spellbound by your fluency. In truth, Father, you -have a remarkably beautiful voice." - -"Bah!" snapped Sir Maurice. - - - - - Three - - Mr. Bancroft Brings Trouble into Little Fittledean - - -On a particularly sunny morning, some five or six days after Mr. -Jettan's return from London town, the main street of Little Fittledean -was made brighter still by the passage of an Apparition. - -The Apparition wore a coat of palest apricot cloth, with a flowered -vest of fine brocade, and startling white small-clothes. Red-heeled -shoes were on his feet, and his stockings were adorned by sprawling -golden clocks. He carried an amber-clouded cane and a jewelled -snuff-box, while ever and anon he raised a cobwebby handkerchief to his -aristocratic nose. He minced down the street towards the market-place, -followed by the awe-stricken glances of an amazed population. The -inhabitants of the village had never seen anything so wonderful or so -remarkable as this gorgeous gentleman. They watched the high red heels -click along the road, and admired the beautiful set of the Apparition's -coat. A group of children stopped playing to stare, open-mouthed. The -Apparition heeded them not. It may have been that he was oblivious of -their existence. Not even when a piping treble requested "John" to -"look'ee now at them shoes!" did he show that he realised the presence -of anyone but himself in the village. He minced on, very languid, and -suitably bored. - -Further down the street a gentleman had reined in his horse to speak to -a curtseying dame, who plucked shyly at her apron, smiling up at him. -Presently he, too, became aware of the sound of clicking heels. Even as -the buxom dame gazed past him with wide eyes, he looked up and saw the -Apparition. - -I would not have you think that the Apparition noticed him. On he went, -swinging his cane and yawning. - -Sir Maurice turned in his saddle the better to see those pearly -small-clothes. His horse cocked both ears inquiringly and blew down his -nostrils. - -"Well, I'm damned!" said Sir Maurice beneath his breath. "Puppy!" - -Mr. Bancroft proceeded leisurely towards the market-place. He was very, -very bored, and he had walked over from Great Fittledean in search -of possible amusement. He almost despaired of finding it, but Fate -favoured him. - -Crossing the market-place, a basket on her arm and a very becoming hat -tied over her curls, was Mistress Cleone. She was tripping along quite -unconcernedly, her cheeks just tinged with colour, and her big eyes -bluer than ever. Mr. Bancroft lost a little of his languor. It might -almost be said that his eye brightened. - -Cleone was coming towards him, and it was markedly evident that Mr. -Bancroft made no attempt to step aside. On the contrary, he appeared -to be engrossed in the contemplation of a cat right away on his left. -Cleone was peeping inside her basket; she did not perceive Mr. Bancroft -until she had walked into him. Then she gave a startled cry, fell back, -and stared. - -Mr. Bancroft was profuse in his apologies. He swept off his hat and -made her a low bow, sinking back and back on his bent left leg. - -"Oh!" gasped Cleone, becomingly flustered. "Gracious! Is it you, Mr. -Bancroft?" - -Mr. Bancroft said that it was. He was very modest about it, and he -dubbed himself a clodhopping oaf so to have discommoded Cleone. - -Cleone dimpled, curtseyed, and prepared to go on her way. This, -however, Mr. Bancroft would not allow. He insisted on taking her -basket, which, he protested, was monstrous heavy for her fair hands to -support. - -Cleone looked up at him provocatively. - -"Sir, I fear I am a stranger to you!" - -"A stranger! Why, madam, is it likely that once I had seen I could ever -forget your sweet face?" cried Mr. Bancroft. "Those blue eyes, madam, -left a deep imprint on my soul; those soft lips--" - -"But," interrupted Cleone, blushing, "my name escaped your memory. -Confess, Mr. Bancroft, it is indeed so?" - -Mr. Bancroft waved his handkerchief with a superb gesture. - -"A name--bah! What is it? 'Tis the face that remains with me. Names do, -indeed, escape me. How could a mere name conjure up this fair image?" -He bowed slightly. "Your name should be Venus, madam." - -"Sir!" Cleone was shocked. "I am Cleone Charteris, Mr. Bancroft," she -said primly. - -Mr. Bancroft was quite equal to the occasion. - -"My dear," he said fondly, "do you think I did not know it?" - -Cleone shook her head. - -"You did not know it. And, indeed, I am prodigiously hurt and offended -that you should have forgot me." - -"Forgot you?" Mr. Bancroft was derisive. "Forget the little nymph who -so tormented me in my youth? Fie on you, madam!" - -"Oh, I did not! How can you say so, sir? 'Twas you who were always so -provoking! Do you remember how we played? You and Jennifer and I and -Philip--oh, and James." - -"The games I remember," he answered. "But Jennifer, no. And who are -Philip and James?" - -"You've a monstrous short memory," reproved Cleone. "Of course you -remember Philip Jettan?" - -"How could I hope to remember anyone but your fair self?" he protested. -"Could I be sensible of another's presence when you were there?" - -Cleone giggled. She found Mr. Bancroft's compliments very entertaining -and novel. - -"You are quite ridiculous, sir. And this is my home." - -"Alas!" sighed Mr. Bancroft. "I would it were a mile away." He opened -the gate and held it for her, bowing. "May I pay my respects to Madam -Charteris?" he begged. - -"If you please, sir," said Cleone, eyes cast down. - -They found madam in the hall, speaking to one of the servants. When she -saw the resplendent Mr. Bancroft she gasped, and fell back a pace. - -Bancroft stepped forward, hat in hand. - -"I dare not hope for recognition, madam," he bowed. "Henry Bancroft -begs you will allow him to kiss your hand." - -Madam Charteris extended it weakly. - -"Henry Bancroft? Gracious heaven, is it indeed you?" - -Bancroft kissed the tips of her fingers, holding them lightly to his -mouth with two fingers and a thumb. - -"I met Mistress Cleone in the market-place," he told her. "Conceive my -surprise, madam, my joyful ecstasy!" - -"Indeed!" stammered madam. "In the market-place--to be sure." - -"Mr. Bancroft was so kind as to relieve me of my basket," explained her -daughter. "He pretends that he had not forgot me, Mamma! But he cannot -deceive me." - -"He never sought to deceive you, Mistress Cleone. He spoke sooth when -he said your image had remained with him throughout." - -"Take him into the garden, Cleone," begged madam. "He will wish to see -your papa." - -It had not occurred to Mr. Bancroft, but he swallowed it with a good -grace. - -"Will you conduct me thither, Mistress Cleone?" He bowed, one arm -extended. - -Cleone laid the tips of her fingers on the arm. - -"Certainly, sir. We shall find Papa among the roses." They walked to -the door. - -"The roses!" sighed Mr. Bancroft. "A fit setting for your beauty, dear -Cleone." - -Cleone gave a little gurgle of laughter. - -"'Tis Papa's beauty they frame, sir, not mine," she replied. - -Twenty minutes later Sir Maurice walked into the rose-garden to find -Bancroft and Cleone seated in an arbour engaged in close converse, -while Mr. Charteris nipped off the dead flowers nearby. - -Mr. Charteris welcomed his visitor with a wave of his large scissors. - -"Good day, Sir Maurice! What a very pleasant, warm day it is, to be -sure! Did you ride over to see us?" - -Sir Maurice drew him apart. - -"I met that--that rainbow in the village. What a plague is it? What -does he do here?" - -Mr. Charteris' chubby countenance was wreathed in a great, sly smile, -suspiciously like a grin. - -"Have you ever seen aught to equal it?" he chuckled. "'Tis young -Bancroft--in seclusion." - -"I guessed as much. In seclusion, is he? Puppy!" - -Mr. Charteris held up his hands. - -"Oh, but Sir Maurice! A mighty soft-spoken youth--a polished gentleman, -I assure you." - -"Polished coxcomb!" snapped Sir Maurice. "Confound his impudence!" He -turned and walked towards the arbour. - -Cleone rose and came forward. - -"Why, Sir Maurice! I did not see you!" - -Sir Maurice raised both her hands to his lips. - -"You were otherwise engaged, my dear. Will you present your cavalier?" - -Cleone frowned upon him. - -"Sir Maurice--! This is Mr. Bancroft, sir. Mr. Bancroft, Sir Maurice -Jettan." - -Mr. Bancroft's hat swept the ground. His powdered head was bent. - -"I am delighted to renew my acquaintance with you, sir." - -Sir Maurice inclined his head. - -"I hear you intend to honour Fittledean for some few weeks?" he said. -An inward laugh seemed to shake him. "You must meet my son, Philip." - -"Nothing could give me more pleasure," Bancroft assured him. "I shall -hope to do so at once. I am transported to meet such old friends, and -to find that one"--he bowed to Cleone--"had not forgot me." - -"H'm!" said Sir Maurice cryptically. Suddenly he smiled upon the -younger man. "I have ridden over to beg Mr. Charteris to honour me at -dinner on Wednesday--" - -"Delighted, delighted!" nodded Charteris, who had joined them. - -"--with madam and Cleone. You'll come, my dear? I have already spoken -to your mamma." - -Cleone slipped her hand in his arm. - -"Why, it's very kind of you, Sir Maurice. Thank you very much." - -He patted the little hand. Then he again transferred his attention to -Mr. Bancroft. - -"I trust you too will honour us, sir?" - -"It is prodigious amiable of you, sir. I hasten to accept. On -Wednesday, I think you said? With all the pleasure on earth!" - -"Cleone, my dear, give me your arm as far as that rose-bush. You shall -choose me a button-hole, if you will. No, no, Charteris, with her own -fair fingers!" He bore Cleone away to the other end of the garden, -leaving Mr. Bancroft disconsolate. When they were out of hearing Sir -Maurice looked down into the roguish blue eyes. "My dear, you are a -minx." - -Cleone dimpled charmingly. - -"I don't know why you should say so, sir." - -"Of course not," agreed Sir Maurice. "Now what is the game? It's to -make Philip jealous, eh?" - -"Sir! How can you?" - -"My love, I know all about you, for I am an old man. Make Philip -jealous by all means." - -"I'm sure I never--" - -"Of course not. But I think, with you, that it would be a very good -plan. The boy is too stolid and cock-sure." - -"Cock--Oh, indeed!" - -"So if you shake Philip up from his toes to his head--you'll earn a -father's blessing." - -Cleone controlled a trembling lip. - -"Sir--you are--a very naughty--conspirator." - -"We'll leave it at that," said Sir Maurice. "Now choose me a rose, -little witch. Gad, if I were ten years younger I'd make Philip jealous -myself!" - -Cleone tip-toed, her hands on his shoulders. - -"You are very, very wicked," she told him gravely. - -Sir Maurice kissed her. - -"So are you, minx, and I want you for my daughter. We are so well -suited." - -Cleone blushed fiery red and hid her face in his coat. - - * * * * * - -Sir Maurice rode home wrapped in thought. Now and again he chuckled -softly to himself, but when later he met his son he was as solemn as -ever. - -Philip came into the library, riding-whip in hand. He had been on the -fields all the morning, and Sir Maurice eyed his boots with disfavour. -Philip sank into a chair. - -"Two of the big meadows are cut, sir. We should finish by next week." -He glanced anxiously out of the window. "I hope the rain holds off." - -"Oh, it will," replied his father placidly. - -"I am not so sure. Last summer the hay was black. Did you--er--did you -ride into the village?" - -"I did." - -"And--and did you go to--Sharley House?" - -"Ay." - -"Are they--did they accept?" Philip played with his whip, feigning -unconcern. - -"They did. I met that fellow Bancroft." - -"Oh!" said Philip. "Where?" - -"In the rose-garden," yawned Sir Maurice. - -The whip fell to the ground. - -"What? In the rose-garden? Whose rose-garden?" - -"At Sharley House, of course." - -"Where--was--What was he doing there?" - -"He was sitting in the arbour, talking to Cleone." - -"Confound him!" growled Philip, as if his worst fears were realised. -"What's he like?" - -Sir Maurice glanced across at him. - -"He is about your height--perhaps a little taller. He--ah--seems to -have a soft tongue and an engaging manner." - -"Oh, has he?" Philip's voice was startlingly grim. - -"He and Cleone were renewing their old friendship." - -"Oh, were they? What old friendship? He was never our friend!" - -"No, I suppose not," said Sir Maurice innocently. "He is some six or -seven years older than you, is he not?" - -"Five!" said Philip emphatically. - -"Only five? Of course, he looks and seems older, but he has seen more -of the world, which accounts for it." - -To this Philip vouchsafed no answer at all, but he looked at his father -with some suspicion. Sir Maurice allowed two or three minutes to elapse -before he spoke again. - -"By the way, Philip, Bancroft dines with us on Wednesday." - -Up sprang Philip in great annoyance. - -"What's that, sir? Dines here, and on Wednesday? Surely you did not -invite the fellow?" - -"But I did," answered Sir Maurice blandly. "Why not?" - -"Why not? What do we want with him?" - -"It remains to be seen." Sir Maurice hid a smile. "Bancroft is most -desirous of meeting you." - -Philip made a sound betwixt a grunt and a snort. - -"More like he wishes to pursue his acquaintance with Cl--Mistress -Cleone," he retorted. - -"Well, she's a pretty piece," said his father. - -Philip glared at him. - -"If I find him annoying Cleone with his damned officious attentions, -I'll--I'll--" - -"Oh, I do not think she is annoyed," replied Sir Maurice. - -At that Philip stalked out of the room, leaving his father a prey to -indecent mirth. - - - - - Four - - The Trouble Comes to a Head - - -At half-past five on Wednesday Mr. Henry Bancroft was ushered into the -withdrawing-room at the Pride. He was, as he had intended he should be, -the last to arrive. - -Sir Maurice stood in front of the empty grate, talking to Mr. -Charteris; madam sat on a couch, her daughter beside her, and Philip -nearby. They all looked up as Mr. Bancroft was announced, and -Philip rose, for the first time in his life acutely conscious of an -ill-fitting coat and unpowdered hair. - -Mr. Bancroft was a dream of lilac and rose. He might have been dressed -for a ball, thought Cleone. Diamonds and rubies flashed from his -buckles, and from his cravat; a diamond clasp was above the riband that -tied his wig. He minced forward daintily and bowed, one be-ringed hand -over his heart. - -Sir Maurice came forward, very stately in black with touches of purple. - -"Ah, Mr. Bancroft! I need not present you to the ladies, I know." -He paused to allow Bancroft to throw a languishing glance towards -the couch. "I think you and my son are not altogether unknown to one -another?" - -Bancroft turned on his heel to face Philip. He bowed again, slightly -flourishing his handkerchief. - -"My playmate of long ago," he murmured. "Your very obedient, Mr. -Jettan." - -Philip returned the bow awkwardly. - -"I am very pleased to meet you again, sir," he said, determined to be -polite to this most obnoxious guest. "Do you--er--intend to make a long -stay?" - -Bancroft raised his shoulders and spread out his hands. - -"I had thought not, sir, but now"--another glance was cast at -Cleone--"I think--perhaps--!" He smiled, running quick, appraising eyes -over Philip's person. "Do you know, sir, I swear I'd not have known -you. You have grown prodigiously." - -Cleone broke into the conversation. - -"You were so much older than Philip or James or me, Mr. Bancroft!" - -Instantly he swept round. - -"I thank you for the past tense, Mistress Cleone! At least, I am no -longer so aged." - -"Why, sir, have you lost your years?" she asked. - -"In your company, yes, madam. Can you wonder?" - -"Oh, I am monstrous flattered, sir!" Cleone spread out her fan and held -it before her face. - -"Not flattered, Mistress Cleone; justly appreciated." - -"La!" said Madam Charteris. "How can you say such things, Mr. Bancroft? -I declare you will make my daughter vain!" - -"Vanity, madam, mates not with such beauty as that of your daughter," -he retaliated. To the right he could see Philip, glowering, and his -mischievous soul laughed. Then Sir Maurice claimed his attention, and -he turned away. - -Philip walked to the couch and stood behind it, resting his arm on the -back. He leaned over Cleone with an air of possession. - -"Pranked out mummer!" he muttered in her ear. - -Cleone smiled up at him. - -"Why, sir, are you at variance with him in the matter of my looks?" she -asked, and thereby bereft him of speech. Her smile turned to a look of -reproach. "'Tis your cue, sir; am I to be slighted?" - -A dull red crept to the roots of Philip's hair. He spoke lower still. - -"You know--what I think of you, Cleone. I cannot--mouth what I feel--in -pretty phrases." - -A strangely tender light came into her eyes. - -"You might try, Philip," she said. - -"What, here? Not I! I am not one to sing your charms in public." He -laughed shortly. "So that is what you desire?" - -The tender light died. - -"No, sir. I desire you will not lean so close. You inconvenience me." - -Philip straightened at once, but he still stood behind her. Bancroft -met his eyes and was quick to read the challenge they held. He smiled, -twirling his eyeglass. - -When dinner was announced, Cleone was talking to Bancroft. It was but -natural that he should offer her his arm, but to Philip it seemed a -most officious, impudent action. Sir Maurice led Madam Charteris into -the dining-room; Mr. Charteris and Philip brought up the rear. - -From Philip's point of view the meal was not a success. Seated side by -side, Cleone and Bancroft exchanged a flood of conversation. Philip, at -the foot of the table, had on his right Mr. Bancroft, and on his left -Mr. Charteris. To the latter he made grave conversation. Occasionally -Bancroft dragged him into a discussion; once or twice Madam Charteris -and Sir Maurice appealed to him. But Cleone seemed unaware of his -existence. She was very gay, too; her eyes sparkled and shone, her -cheeks were faintly flushed. She answered Mr. Bancroft's sallies with -delightful little laughs and applause. - -As the dinner proceeded, Philip was made to feel more than ever his own -shortcomings. When he looked at Mr. Bancroft's white hands with their -highly polished nails, and many rings, he compared them with his strong -brown ones, tanned and--coarse? Covertly he inspected them; no, they -were better hands than that nincompoop's, but his nails ... bah! only -fops such as this puppy polished their nails!... - -The lilac satin of Mr. Bancroft's coat shimmered in the light of the -candles. How tightly it fitted him across the shoulders! How heavily it -was laced, and how full were its skirts! A coat for a drawing-room! -Unconsciously Philip squared his shoulders. All that foaming lace ... -more suited to a woman than to a man. The quizzing-glass ... abominable -affectation! The jewels ... flaunting them in the country! Patched and -painted, mincing, prattling puppy-dog! How could Cleone bear him so -near, with his fat, soft hands, and his person reeking of some sickly -scent?... - -Now he was talking of town and its allure, toying with the names of -first one celebrity and then another. And Cleone drinking in the silly, -smug talk!... Now hints at conquests made--veiled allusions to his own -charms. Ape!--truckling, overdressed ape! Suddenly Philip wanted to -throw his glass at Bancroft. He choked down the mad impulse, and strove -to listen to Mr. Charteris. - -Back in the withdrawing-room again it was worse. Sir Maurice asked -Cleone to sing, and she went to the spinet. Bancroft followed, -to choose her music, to turn the pages, to gaze at her in frank -admiration. Damn him, damn him, damn him! - - * * * * * - -The party came to an end at last; Philip was alone with his father. Sir -Maurice leaned his chin in his hand, watching him amusedly. For a long -while Philip said nothing, but presently he brought his eyes away from -the window and looked at his father. - -"And that," he said bitingly, "is what you would have me. A conceited, -painted puppy, fawning and leering on every woman that crosses his -path!" - -"Not at all." Sir Maurice took out his snuff-box and opened it. "'Tis -the last thing in the world I would have you." - -"You said--" - -"I said I would have you a very perfect gentleman, knowing the world -and its ways." - -"Well?--" - -"You perhaps conceive Mr. Bancroft a perfect gentleman?" - -"Not I! 'Tis you who--" - -Sir Maurice raised one delicate hand. - -"Pardon me! You choose to assume that I thought it. Mr. Bancroft is, -as you so truly remark, a conceited, painted puppet. But he apes, so -far as he is able, the thing that I am; that I wish you to become. You -are a country-bumpkin, my dear; he is a coddled doll. Strive to become -something betwixt the two." - -"I had sooner be what I am!" - -"Which is a conceited oaf." - -"Sir!" - -Sir Maurice rose, leaning on his cane. - -"Remain what you are, my son, but bethink you--which will Cleone -prefer? Him who gives her graceful homage, and charms her ears with -honeyed words, or him who is tongue-tied before her, who is careless of -his appearance, and who treats her, not as a young and beautiful girl, -but as his inevitable possession?" - -Philip answered quickly. - -"Cleone, sir, will--give herself where she pleases, but she is not one -to over-rate the tricks of such as Bancroft." - -"Or to under-rate the discomforts of tying herself to one who is tied -to the soil and his own pleasure," said Sir Maurice softly. - -The grey eyes met his, a trifle hurt. - -"I am selfish, Father? Because I will not become the thing I despise?" - -"And narrow, Philip, to despise what you do not know." - -"Thank you!" The young voice was exceedingly bitter. "I am to be a -painted popinjay! I tell you, sir, Cleone must take me as I am." - -"Or leave you as you are," said Sir Maurice gently. - -"A warning, sir?" - -"That's for you to judge, child. And now I'll to bed." He paused, -looking at his son. - -Philip went to him. - -"Good night, sir." - -Sir Maurice smiled, holding out his hand. - -"Good night, my son." - -Philip kissed his fingers. - -Followed a week of disturbing trivialities. Mr. Bancroft was more often -in Little Fittledean than at home, and most often at Sharley House. -He there met Philip, not once, but many times, hostile and possessive. -He laughed softly, and sought to engage Philip in a war of wits, but -Philip's tongue was stiff and reluctant. So Mr. Bancroft made covert -sport of him and renewed his attentions to Cleone. - -Cleone herself was living in a strange whirl. There was much in Mr. -Bancroft that displeased her; I do not think she ever had it in her -mind to wed him, which was perhaps fortunate, as Mr. Bancroft certainly -had it not in his. But homage is grateful to women, and ardent yet -dainty love-making fascinating to the young. She played with Mr. -Bancroft, but thought no less of Philip. Yet Philip contrived to -irritate her. His air of ownership, his angry, reproachful looks, fired -the spirit of coquetry within her. Mastery thrilled her, but a mastery -that offered to take all, giving nothing, annoyed her. That Philip -loved her to distraction, she knew; also she knew that Philip would -expect her to bend before his will. He would not change, it would be -she who must conform to his pleasure. Philip was determined to remain -as he was, faithful but dull. She wanted all that he despised: life, -gaiety, society, and frivolity. She weighed the question carefully, a -little too carefully for a maid in love. She wanted Philip and she did -not want him. As he was, she would have none of him; as she wished him -to be, he might have her. But for the present she was no man's, and no -man had the right to chide her. Philip had made a mistake in his wooing -in showing her how much his own he thought her. All unwitting, he was -paving the way to his own downfall. - -Despite the lisping conceit of Mr. Bancroft, his polished phrases and -his elegancy when compared with Philip's brusqueness threw Philip -in the shade. Mr. Bancroft could taunt and gibe at Philip, sure of -triumph; Philip tied his tongue in knots and relapsed into silence, -leaving Mr. Bancroft to shine in his victory. The man Cleone chose to -wed must be a match for all, with words or swords. Cleone continued to -smile upon Mr. Bancroft. - -At the end of the week the trouble came to a head. In the garden of -Sharley House, before Cleone, Mr. Bancroft threw veiled taunts at -Philip, and very thinly veiled sneers. He continued to hold the younger -man's lack of polish up to scorn, always smiling and urbane. - -Cleone recognised the gleam in Philip's eye. She was a little -frightened and sought to smooth over the breach. But when she presently -retired to the house, Philip arrested Mr. Bancroft, who was following. - -"A word with you, sir." - -Bancroft turned, brows raised, lips curled almost sneeringly. - -Philip stood very straight, shoulders squared. - -"You have seen fit to mock at me, sir--" - -"I?" interpolated Bancroft languidly. "My dear sir!" - -"--and I resent it. There is that in your manner to which I object." - -Bancroft's brows rose higher. - -"To--which--you--object...." he echoed softly. - -"I trust I make myself clear?" snapped Philip. - -Bancroft raised his eyeglass. Through it he studied Philip from his -toes to his head. - -"Is it possible that you want satisfaction?" he drawled. - -"More than that," retorted Philip. "It is certain." - -Once again he was scrutinised. Mr. Bancroft's smile grew. - -"I do not fight with schoolboys," he said. - -The colour flooded Philip's face. - -"Perhaps because you are afraid," he said quickly, guarding his temper. - -"Perhaps," nodded Bancroft. "Yet I have not the reputation of a coward." - -Swift as a hawk Philip pounced. - -"You have, sir, as I well know, the reputation of a libertine!" - -It was Bancroft's turn to flush. - -"I--beg--your--pardon?" - -"It is necessary," bowed Philip, enjoying himself now for the first -time in many days. - -"You--impudent boy!" gasped Bancroft. - -"I would sooner be that, sir, than an impudent, painted puppy." - -Under his powder Bancroft was fiery red. - -"I see you will have it, Mr. Jettan. I will meet you when and where you -will." - -Philip patted his sword-hilt, and Bancroft observed for the first time -that he was wearing a sword. - -"I have noticed, Mr. Bancroft, that you habitually don your sword. So -I took the precaution of wearing mine. 'When' is now, and 'where' is -yonder!" He pointed above the hedge that encircled the garden to the -copse beyond. It was a very fine theatrical effect, and he was pleased -with it. - -Bancroft sneered at him. - -"A trifle countrified, Mr. Jettan. Do you propose to dispense with such -needless formalities as seconds?" - -"I think we can trust each other," said Philip grandly. - -"Then pray lead the way," bowed Bancroft. - -What followed was not so fine. Bancroft was proficient in the art of -the duello; Philip had never fought in his life. Fencing had never -interested him, and Sir Maurice had long since despaired of teaching -him anything more than the rudiments. However, he was very angry and -very reckless, while Bancroft thought to play with him. He thrust so -wildly and so insanely that Bancroft was taken unawares and received a -fine slash across the arm. After that he fenced more carefully, and in -a very short time pinked Philip neatly and artistically above the elbow -of his sword arm. As Philip's blade wavered and fell, he wiped his own -on his handkerchief, sheathed it, and bowed. - -"Let this be a lesson to you, sir," he said, and walked away before -Philip could pick up his sword. - -Twenty minutes later Philip walked into the hall of Sharley House, a -handkerchief tied tightly round his arm, and asked for Mistress Cleone. -On being told that she was in the parlour, he stalked in upon her. - -Cleone's eyes flew to his crooked arm. - -"Oh!" she cried, and half rose. "What--what have you done? You are -hurt!" - -"It is less than nothing, I thank you," replied Philip. "I want you to -answer me plainly, Cleone. What is that fellow to you?" - -Cleone sat down again. Her eyes flashed; Philip was nearer than ever to -his downfall. - -"I entirely fail to understand you, sir," she answered. - -"Do you love that--that prancing ninny?" asked Philip. - -"I consider such a question an--an impertinence!" cried Cleone. "What -right have you to ask me such a thing?" - -Philip's brows met across the bridge of his nose. - -"You do love him?" - -"No, I don't! I mean--Oh, how dare you?" - -Philip came closer. The frown faded. - -"Cleone--do you--could you--love me?" - -Cleone was silent. - -Closer still came Philip, and spoke rather huskily. - -"Will you--marry me, Cleone?" - -Still silence, but the blue eyes were downcast. - -"Cleone," blundered Philip, "you--don't want a--mincing, -powdered--beau." - -"I do not want a--a--raw--country-bumpkin," she said cruelly. - -Philip drew himself up. - -"That is what you think me, Cleone?" - -Something in his voice brought tears to her eyes. - -"I--no--I--oh, Philip, I _could_ not marry you as you are!" - -"No?" Philip spoke very evenly. "But if I became--your ideal--you could -marry me?" - -"I--oh, you should not--ask such questions!" - -"As I am--you'll none of me. You do not want--an honest man's love. -You want the pretty compliments of a doll. If I will learn to be--a -doll--you'll wed me. Well, I will learn. You shall not be--annoyed--by -an honest man's love--any longer. I will go to London--and one day I'll -return. Farewell, Cleone." - -"Oh--goodness--are you--going to town?" she gasped. - -"Since that is your desire, yes," he answered. - -She held out her hand, and when he kissed it her fingers clung for an -instant. - -"Come back to me, Philip," she whispered. - -He bowed, still holding her hand, and then, without a word, released -it, and marched out, very dignified. It was another fine tragic effect, -but Cleone, when the door closed behind him, broke into an hysterical -laugh. She was rather amazed, and a little apprehensive. - - - - - Five - - In Which Philip Finds That His Uncle - Is More Sympathetic Than His Father - - -Home went Philip, a prey to conflicting emotions. He was angry with -Cleone, and hurt at what he termed her fickleness, but she was very -lovely, and still wholly desirable. Never until now had he realised -how necessary she was to his happiness. She would not marry him unless -he reformed, learned to behave like Bancroft--that was what she meant. -She did not love him as he was; she wanted polish, and frills and -furbelows. Philip's lips tightened. She should have them--but he was -very, very angry. Then he thought of his father, and the anger grew. -What right had these two to seek to change him into something that was -utterly insincere, trifling, and unmanly? His father would be rejoiced -to hear that he was going "to become a gentleman." Even he had no use -for Philip as he was. Well, they should have what they wanted--and then -perhaps they would be sorry. In a wave of self-pity he considered how -dearly he loved these two people. He wanted neither to change, he loved -them for what they were; but they.... He felt very sore and ill-used. -Something else there was that troubled him. He had set about the task -of punishing Mr. Bancroft, and Mr. Bancroft had ended by punishing -him. No pleasant thought, that. Bancroft was master not only of words -but of swords; he, Philip, was master of neither. He brooded over the -question, chafed and irritable. And so came home to Sir Maurice. - -He found him seated on the terrace, reading Juvenal. Sir Maurice, -glancing up, observed Philip's sling. He said nothing, but his eyes -gleamed an instant. - -Philip threw himself down upon a bench. - -"Well, sir, Bancroft and I have met." - -"I thought it would come," nodded his father. - -"I'm no match for him. He--pinked me with some ease." - -Again Sir Maurice nodded. - -"Also"--Philip spoke with difficulty--"Cleone--will have none of me--as -I am." He looked across at his father with some bitterness. "As you -prophesied, sir, she prefers the attentions of such as Bancroft." - -"And so--?" - -Philip was silent. - -"And so Mr. Jettan withdraws from the lists. Very fine," added Sir -Maurice. - -"Have I said so, sir?" Philip spoke sharply. "Cleone desires a -beau--she shall have one! I have told her that I shall not come to her -until I am what--she thinks--is her desire! I will show her and you -that I am not the dull-witted bumpkin you think me, fit for nothing -better than"--he mimicked his father's tone--"to till the earth! I'll -learn to be the painted fop you'd like to see me! Neither you nor she -shall be offended longer by the sight of me as I am!" - -"Now, here's a heat!" remarked Sir Maurice. "So you'll to London, boy? -To your uncle?" - -Philip shrugged. - -"As well to him as any other. I care not." - -"That's the wrong spirit for your emprise," said Sir Maurice, a laugh -in his eyes. "You must enter into your venture heart and soul." - -Philip flung out his arm. - -"My heart's here, sir, at home!" - -"It's also at Sharley House," said his father dryly, "or why do you go -to London?" - -"Ay, it's there! And I have the felicity of knowing that Cleone cares -not one snap of her fingers for me! She trifles with me, and makes -sport of me for her amusement!" - -"Tra-la-la-la!" said Sir Maurice. "Then why go to London?" - -"To show her that I am not the brainless oaf she thinks me!" answered -Philip, and marched off. - -Sir Maurice returned to Juvenal. - -Not until his arm was healed did Philip set forth to London town. He -parted amicably enough from his father, who gave him much advice, many -introductions, and his blessing. Cleone he did not see at all, but -when he had gone she went up to the Pride and held Sir Maurice's hand -very tightly. She shed a few tears; also she laughed a little. As for -Sir Maurice--well, he chided himself for a sentimental old fool, but -with Philip's departure had come a void which could only be filled by -Philip's return. - - * * * * * - -Tom was breakfasting when his nephew was announced. It was noon, but -Tom had spent a strenuous night. Philip walked into the room, under the -gloomy eye of Moggat, travel-stained and stiff from the saddle. He was -quite unexpected, but his uncle showed no surprise at seeing him. - -"Well met, Philip, my boy! What's to do now?" - -Philip sank into a chair. - -"I'll tell you when I'm fed," he grinned. "That sirloin pleases my eye." - -"Not an artistic colour," said Tom, studying it, "but appetising, I -grant you." - -"Artistic be damned!" said Philip, attacking it. Then he frowned. "H'm! -No, Tom, 'tis a displeasing blend--red and brown." - -Tom looked at him in surprise. - -"What's colour to you, Philip?" - -"Naught, God help me," answered Philip, and fell to with a will. - -"I echo that sentiment," said Tom. "How does your father?" - -"Well enough; he sends you his love." - -Tom thereupon buried himself in the mass of correspondence that lay by -his plate. When he came to the end, Philip had finished his repast. Tom -pushed back his chair. - -"Well, Philip, what brings you here? Moggat, you rascal, away with you!" - -Philip waited until the door had closed upon Moggat's reluctant back. - -"I've--to learn to be--a gentleman," he said. - -Tom stared at him. Then he burst out laughing. - -"God ha' mercy, Philip, has it come to that?" - -"I do not take your meaning," said Philip crossly. - -"What! It's not a petticoat?" - -"Tom, I'll thank you to--to--be quiet!" - -Tom choked his laughter. - -"Oh, I'm dumb! How do you propose to set about the task?" - -"'Tis what I want to know, Tom." - -"And I'm to teach you?" - -Philip hesitated. - -"Is it perhaps--a thing I can best learn alone?" he asked, surprisingly -diffident. - -"What is it exactly you want to learn?" - -"To become a gentleman. Have I not said it?" - -"Odd rot, what are ye now?" - -Philip's lips curled. - -"I have it on the best authority, Tom, that I am a clumsy, witless -clodhopper." - -His uncle regarded him with some kindliness. - -"Little vixen," he remarked sapiently. - -"I beg your pardon?" Philip was cold. - -"Not at all," said Tom hastily. "So Maurice has been at you again, eh? -Now, Philip, lad, come off your pinnacle and be sensible, for God's -sake! What do ye want?" - -"I want, or rather, they--he--wants me to learn how to dress, how to -walk across a room, how to play with words, how to make love to women, -how to bow, how to--" - -"Oh, stop, stop!" cried Tom. "I have the whole picture! And it's no -easy task, my boy. It will take you years to learn." - -"Why, I trust you're pessimistic, sir," said Philip, "for I intend to -acquire all these arts--within a year." - -"Well, I like your spirit," acknowledged Tom. "Take some more ale, lad, -and let me have the whole story." - -This advice Philip saw fit to follow. In a very short time he found -that he had unburdened his sore heart to an astonishingly sympathetic -uncle. Tom forbore to laugh--although now and then he was seized by an -inward paroxysm which he had much ado to choke down. When Philip came -to the end of his recital and stared gloomily across at him, he tapped -his teeth with one polished finger-nail and looked exceeding wise. - -"My opinion is, Philip, that you are the best of all us Jettans, but -that's neither here nor there. Now it seems to me that the folk at home -don't appreciate your sterling qualities--" - -"Oh, 'tis not my qualities they object to! 'Tis my lack of vice." - -"Don't interrupt my peroration, lad. They think you a noble--what was -the word you used?--clodhopper. 'Tis marvellously apt. They doubt your -ability to shine in society. 'Tis for us to prove them to be mistaken. -You must surprise them." - -"I doubt I shall," said Philip, with the glimmering of a smile. - -Tom was wrapped in thought; his eyes ran over his nephew's form -appraisingly. - -"Ye've a fine figure, and good legs. Your hands?" - -Philip extended them, laughing. - -"Um! a little attention, and I'd not wish to see better. Like all the -Jettans, you are passable of countenance, not to say handsome." - -"Am I?" Philip was startled. "I never knew that before!" - -"Then ye know it now. You're the spit of your father in his young days. -Gad, what days they were! Before I grew fat," he added sadly. "But I -wander, I wander. Maurice and the petticoat--what's the girl's name?" - -"I don't see why you should assu--" - -"Don't be a fool, lad! It's that fair chit, eh? Charlotte--no, damn it, -some heathenish name!" - -"Cleone," supplied Philip, submitting. - -"Ay, that's it--Cleone. Well, Maurice and Cleone think that ye'll gain -a little polish and some style. What you must do is excel. Excel!" - -"I doubt I could not," said Philip. "And, indeed, I've no mind to." - -"Then I've done with you." Tom leaned back in his chair with an air of -finality. - -"No, no, Tom! You must help me!" - -A stern eye was fixed on him. - -"Ye must put yourself in my hands, then." - -"Ay, but--" - -"Completely," said Tom inexorably. - -Philip collapsed. - -"Oh, very well!" - -The round, good-tempered face lost its unaccustomed severity. Tom was -again wrapped in thought. - -"Paris," he said at length, to the bewilderment of his nephew. "You -must go there," he explained. - -Philip was horrified. - -"What! I? To Paris? Never!" - -"Then I wash my--" - -"But, Tom, consider! I know so little French!" - -"The more reason." - -"But--but--damn it, I say I will not!" - -Tom yawned. - -"As ye will." - -Philip became more and more unhappy. - -"Why should I go to Paris?" he growled. - -"You're like a surly bear," reproved Tom. "Where else would you go?" - -"Can't I--surely I can learn all I want here?" - -"Ay, and have all your friends nudging each other as you transform from -what you are to what you are to become!" - -Philip had not thought of that. He relapsed into sulky silence. - -"To Paris," resumed Tom, "within the week. Luckily, you've more money -than is good for you. You've no need to pinch and scrape. I'll take -you, clothe you, and introduce you." - -Philip brightened. - -"Will you? That's devilish good of you, Tom!" - -"It is," agreed Tom. "But I dare swear I'll find entertainment there." -He chuckled. "And not a word to your father or to anyone. You'll -vanish, and when you reappear no one will know you." - -This dazzling prospect did not appear to allure Philip. He sighed -heavily. - -"I suppose I must do it. But--" He rose and walked to the window. -"It's all that I despise and that I detest. Mere love--does not -suffice. Well, we shall see." He thrust his hands deep in his pockets. -"The thing they want me to be is neither noble nor estimable. -They--he--they--don't care what may be a man's reputation or his -character! He must speak them softly, and charm their ears with silly -compliments, and their eyes with pretty silks and satins. Naught else -is of consequence. Faugh!" - -"Ay, you're taking it hard," nodded his uncle. "But they're all the -same, lad--bless 'em!" - -"I thought--this one--was different." - -"More fool you," said Tom cynically. - - - - - Six - - The Beginning of the Transformation - - -Philip stood in the middle of the floor, expostulating. A sleek valet -was kneeling before him, coaxing his gold-clocked stockings over the -knee of his small-clothes, and a middle-aged exquisite was arranging -his Mechlin cravat for the seventh time, a frown crinkling his -forehead, and French oaths proceeding from his tinted lips. Mr. Thomas -Jettan was giving the nails of Philip's right hand a last, lingering -polish. And Philip, supremely miserable, expostulated in vain. - -Francois sat back on his heels and eyed Philip's legs adoringly. - -"But of an excellence, m'sieur! So perfect a calf, m'sieur! So vairy -fine a laig," he explained in English. - -Philip tried to squint down at them, and was rewarded by an impatient -exclamation from the gentleman who was wrestling with his cravat. - -"_Tais--toi, imbecile!_ 'Ow is it zat I shall arrange your cravat if -you tweest and turn like zis? Lift your chin, Philippe!" - -"_Mais, monsieur, je--je--cela me donne--mal au cou._" - -"_Il faut souffrir pour etre bel_," replied the Marquis severely. - -"So it seems," said Philip irritably. "Tom, for God's sake, have done!" - -His uncle chuckled. - -"I've finished, never fear. Jean, that is wonderful!" - -Le Marquis de Chateau-Banvau stepped back to view his handiwork. - -"I am not altogether satisfied," he said musingly. - -Philip warded him off. - -"No, no, m'sieur! I am sure it is perfection!" - -The Marquis disregarded him. Once more his nimble fingers busied -themselves amongst the folds of soft lace. His eyes gleamed suddenly. - -"It is well! Francois, the sapphire pin! Quickly!" - -The valet held it out. He and Tom watched anxiously as the Marquis' -hand hovered, uncertain. Philip felt that this was a supreme moment; he -held his breath. Then the pin was fixed with one unerring movement, and -the two onlookers drew deep breaths of relief. - -The Marquis nodded. - -"Yes, Tom, you are right. It is a triumph. Sit down, Philippe." - -Philip sank into a chair by the dressing-table. - -"What now? Have you nearly finished?" - -"Now the rouge. Francois, haste!" - -Philip tried to rebel. - -"I will not be painted and powdered!" - -The Marquis fixed him with a cold eye. - -"_Plait--il?_" - -"M'sieur--I--I will not!" - -"Philippe--if it were not for the love I bear your papa, I would leave -you zis minute. You will do as I say, _hein_?" - -"But, m'sieur, can I not go without paint?" - -"You can not." - -Philip smiled ruefully. - -"Then do your worst!" - -"It is not my worst, _ingrat_. It is my best!" - -"Your best, then. I am really very grateful, sir." - -The Marquis' lips twitched. He signed to Francois. - -Under his deft hands Philip squirmed and screwed up his face. He -complained that the haresfoot tickled him, and he winced when the -Marquis pressed two patches on his face. When Francois dusted his -cheeks with powder he sneezed, and when a single sapphire ear-ring was -placed in his left ear he scowled and muttered direfully. - -But the supreme torture was to come. He discovered that it required the -united energies of the three men to coax him into his coat. When at -last it was on he assured them it would split across the shoulders if -he so much as moved a finger. - -The Marquis found him _fort amusant_, but troublesome. - -"Forget it, little fool!" - -"Forget it?" cried Philip. "How can I forget it when it prevents my -moving?" - -"_Quelle absurdite!_ The sword, Tom!" - -"How can I dance in a sword?" protested Philip. - -"It is _de rigueur_," said the Marquis. - -Philip fingered the jewelled hilt. - -"A pretty plaything," he said. "I have never spent so much money on -fripperies before." - -Francois arranged the full skirts of his coat about the sword, and Tom -slipped rings on to Philip's fingers. A point-edged hat was put into -his hand, an enamelled snuff-box, and a handkerchief. - -Thomas looked at the Marquis, the Marquis nodded complacently. He led -Philip to a long glass. - -"Well, my friend?" - -But Philip said never a word. He stared and stared again at his -reflection. He could not believe that it was himself. He saw a -tall, slight figure dressed in a pale blue satin coat, and white -small-clothes, flowered waistcoat, and gold-clocked stockings. High -red-heeled shoes, diamond-buckled, were on his feet, lace foamed over -his hands and at his neck, while a white wig, marvellously curled and -powdered, replaced his shorn locks. Unconsciously he drew himself up, -tilting his chin a little, and shook out his handkerchief. - -"Well!" The Marquis grew impatient. "You have nothing to say?" - -Philip turned. - -"_C'est merveilleux!_" he breathed. - -The Marquis beamed, but he shook his head. - -"In time, yes. At present, a thousand times no! _C'est gauche, c'est -impossible!_" - -Unwontedly humble, Philip begged to be made less _gauche_. - -"It is my intention," said the Marquis. "A month or so and I shall be -proud of my pupil." - -"Faith, I'm proud of ye now!" cried Tom. "Why, lad, you'll be more -modish than ever Maurice was!" - -Philip flushed beneath his powder. A ruby on his finger caught his eye. -He regarded it for a moment, frowning, then he took it off. - -"Oh?" queried the Marquis. "Why?" - -"I don't like it." - -"You don't like it? Why not?" - -"I don't know. I'll only wear sapphires and diamonds." - -"By heaven, the boy's right!" exclaimed Tom. "He should be all blue!" - -"In a month--two months--I shall present you at Versailles," decided -the Marquis. "Francois, remove that abominable ruby. And now--_en -avant_!" - -And so went Philip to his first ball. - - * * * * * - -At the end of the month Tom went home to London, having set his -nephew's feet on the path he was to tread. He left him in charge of M. -de Chateau-Banvau, who had by now developed a lively interest in him. - -After that first ball Philip threw off the last shreds of rebellion; he -played his part well, and he became very busy. Every morning he fenced -with an expert until he had acquired some skill with a small-sword; -he spoke nothing but French from morn to night; he permitted the -Marquis to introduce him into society; he strove to loosen his tongue, -and he paid flippant court to several damsels who ogled him for his -fine appearance, until his light conversation grew less forced and -uncomfortable. For a while he took no interest in his tailoring, -allowing Tom or Francois to garb him as they pleased. But one day, when -Francois extended a pair of cream stockings to his gaze, he eyed them -through his quizzing-glass for a long moment. Then he waved them aside. - -Francois was hurt; he liked those stockings. Would not M'sieur consider -them? M'sieur most emphatically would not. If Francois admired pink -clocks on a cream ground, let him take the stockings. M'sieur would not -wear them; they offended him. - -Before very long "le jeune Anglais" was looked for and welcomed. Ladies -liked him for his firm chin, and his palpable manliness; men liked -him for his modesty and his money. He was invited to routs and _bals -masques_, and to card-parties and _soirees_. Philip began to enjoy -himself; he was tasting the delights of popularity. Bit by bit he grew -to expect invitations from these new acquaintances. But still M. le -Marquis was dissatisfied. It was all very well, but not well enough for -him. - -However, it was quite well enough for Thomas, and he departed, -chuckling and elated. He left Philip debating over two wigs and the -arrangement of his jewels. - - * * * * * - -Hardly a fortnight later Philip made secure his position in Polite -Society by fighting a duel with a jealous husband. Lest you should be -shocked at this sudden depravity, I will tell you that there was little -enough cause for fighting, as Philip considered the lady as he might -consider an aunt. Happily she was unaware of this. Philip's friends -did not hold back; he had no difficulty in finding seconds, and the -_affaire_ ended in a neat thrust which pinked the husband, and a fresh -wave of popularity for Philip. - -The Marquis told his pupil that he was a gay dog, and was met by a -chilling stare. - -"I--beg--your pardon?" said Philip stiffly. - -"But what a modesty!" cried the Marquis, much amused. - -"Is it conceivable that you think me attracted by the smiles of Madame -de Foli-Martin?" - -"But yes! Of course I think it!" - -"Permit me to enlighten you," said Philip. "My affections are with a -lady--at home." - -"Oh, la, la!" deplored the Marquis. "A lady of the country? A simple -country wench?" - -"I thank God, yes," said Philip. He depressed his friend, who had hoped -for better things of him. But he thought it wiser to change the subject. - -"Philip, I will take you to Court." - -Philip crossed one elegantly breeched leg over the other. He was, if -anything, a little bored. - -"Yes? Next week, perhaps? I am very much engaged until then." - -The shrewd eyes twinkled. - -"The manner is excellent, my friend. You will like to make your bow to -the King." - -Philip shrugged. - -"Certainly. I trust the King will consider himself sufficiently -honoured." - -"_Sans doute_," bowed the Marquis. "But I counsel you, slayer of -hearts, to cast your eyes away from la Pompadour." - -"M'sieur, I have already told you--" - -"Oh, yes. But you have now the name for--slaying of hearts." - -Philip dropped his affectation. - -"Good gad! Do you say so, sir? I?" - -"It is very fashionable," said the Marquis mischievously. "You become a -figure." - -"But I--" He checked himself, and relapsed into languor. "They fatigue -me." And he yawned. - -"What! Even la Salevier?" - -"The woman with the enormous wig--oh--ah! She is well enough, but -_passee, mon cher Marquis, passee_!" - -"_Sangdieu_, you are fastidious of a sudden! Is the little country chit -so lovely?" - -"Your pardon, Marquis, but I prefer to leave that lady's name out of -this or any discussion." - -"Or I shall have a small-sword through my heart, _hein_?" - -Philip smiled. - -"That is absurd, sir." - - * * * * * - -That night he gave a card-party. The play was high and the bottles -numerous. He lost some money, won a little, and was put to bed by his -valet long after dawn. He awoke later with a splitting headache, but he -considered himself a man. That was in September. - - - - - Seven - - Mr. Bancroft Comes to Paris and Is Annoyed - - -In February came Mr. Bancroft to Paris. Philip's departure from Little -Fittledean had been closely followed by his own, for he found that -Cleone no longer smiled. Also, the spice of wooing her was gone when -there was no jealous lover to flout. He waited until his _affaire_ had -blown over, and then he went back to London. Now, very blase, he came -to Paris in search of new pastimes. - -It was not long before he met Philip. And the manner of the meeting -was delightfully sensational. Under the auspices of his friend, M. de -Chambert, he attended a rout at the hotel of the Duchesse de Maugry. -He was presented to one Mademoiselle de Chaucheron, a sprightly little -lady, with roguish black eyes. Mr. Bancroft was content to form one of -the small court she held. Several old acquaintances he met, for he was -not unknown in Paris. - -Conversation flourished for some time. But suddenly Mademoiselle cried -out, clapping her hands: - -"_Le voila, notre petit Philippe! Eh bien, petit Anglais?_" - -A slight gentleman in peach-coloured satin, powdered, painted, -perfumed, came quickly through the group and went down on one knee -before her. - -"At thy most exquisite feet, my lady!" - -Delighted, she gave him her hand to kiss. - -"And where have you been this long while, _vaurien_?" - -Philip kissed the tips of her fingers, one by one. - -"Languishing in outer darkness, _cherie_." - -"The darkness of the Court!" laughed the Comte de Saint-Dantin. -"Philippe, I know you for a rogue and a trifler!" - -Philip looked up, still holding Mademoiselle's hand. - -"Someone has maligned me. Of what am I accused?" - -Mademoiselle rapped his knuckles with her fan. - -"_Voyons!_ Have you finished with my hand?" - -Instantly he turned back to her. - -"I have lost count! Now I must begin again. One moment, Comte, I am -much occupied!" Gravely he kissed each rosy finger a second time. "And -one for the lovely whole. _Voila!_" - -"You are indeed a rogue," she told him. "For you care--not one jot!" - -"If that were true I were a rogue beyond reprieve," he answered gaily. - -"You don't deceive me, _le petit Philippe_!... So sweet, so amiable, so -great a flatterer--with no heart to lose!" - -"Rumour hath it that 'tis already lost," smiled De Bergeret. "Eh, -Philippe?" - -"Lost an hundred times," mourned Philip, "and retrieved never!" - -"Oh!" Mademoiselle started back in mock-anger. "Wretch that thou art, -and so fickle! Rise! I'll no more of you!" - -"Alack!" Philip came to his feet, and dusted his knee with his -handkerchief. "I give you thanks, _mignonne_, 'twas very hard." - -"But you do not say! How is she, la Pompadour?" cried De Salmy. - -Philip pressed a hand to his forehead. - -"La Pompadour? I do not know; I have forgotten. She has blue eyes, not -black." - -Mademoiselle promptly hid behind her fan. - -Mr. Bancroft was staring at Philip as one in a trance. At that moment -Philip looked his way. The grey eyes held no recognition and passed on. - -"Good heavens!" exclaimed Bancroft. '"Tis never Mr. Jettan?" - -"_Que lui dit-il?_" asked Mademoiselle, for Bancroft had spoken in -English. - -Philip bowed distantly. - -"M'sieur?" - -"You've not forgotten me? Bancroft?" - -"Ah--Mr. Bancroft! I remember. Your servant, sir." He bowed again. - -"Gad, I could scarce credit mine eyes! _Nom de Dieu!_" - -"Aha, that I understand!" said Mademoiselle relievedly. "It is one of -your friends, Philippe?" She smiled upon Mr. Bancroft with more warmth, -and extended her hand. "_L'ami de Philippe_--ah, but you should have -said!" - -Mr. Bancroft was not elated at being classed as Philip's friend, but he -bowed over Mademoiselle's hand with a good grace. - -"I had no notion of finding him here, mademoiselle. The last time we -met was--in a wood." - -"Tell!" besought the lady. - -Philip threw out his hands. - -"Ah, no, _cherie_! That meeting was so disastrous to my vanity!" - -"_Raison de plus_," decided Mademoiselle. "Tell me about it!" - -"Mr. Bancroft and I had some slight difference in opinion which we -settled in a wood. I was very easily worsted." - -"_You?_" cried Mademoiselle. "Impossible!" - -"On the contrary, _bien aimee_; I was, in those days, a very sorry -spectacle, was I not, sir?" - -"Not so long since," said Mr. Bancroft. - -"Six months," nodded Philip, and turned to speak to the Comte de -Saint-Dantin. - -Mademoiselle was still incredulous. - -"A sorry spectacle? Philippe?" - -"I scent an intrigue," said a little Vicomte. "Clothilde, make him -tell!" - -"Of course," she said. "Philippe!" - -Philip swung neatly round to face her. - -"_Chere Clothilde?_" - -"Come here! I want you to tell me what you mean by a sorry spectacle. -If you refuse--_bien_! I shall ask Mr. Bancroft!" - -"Oh, I'll give away no man's secrets!" simpered Bancroft. - -Philip raised his eyeglass. He observed Mr. Bancroft dispassionately. -Then he shrugged, and turned back to Clothilde. - -"_Petite ange_, it's a sad tale. Six months ago I lived in the country, -and I was a very churlish bumpkin. Then I was made to see the folly of -my ways, and now--_me voici_!" - -"I said that I scented an intrigue," said the Vicomte tranquilly. - -"But wait, wait! _You_ in the country, Philippe? You jest!" - -"On my honour, no, _cherie_! I came to Paris to learn the ways of -Polite Society." - -"Six months ago?" De Bergeret was astonished. "It is your first visit? -You learned all this in so short a time?" - -"I have a natural aptitude," smiled Philip. "Now are you satisfied?" - -"_Je n'en reviendrai jamais!_" Mademoiselle spoke emphatically. -"_Jamais, jamais, jamais!_" - -"I am not at all satisfied." - -Philip cocked one eyebrow at the dainty Vicomte. - -"What more would you have?" - -"I would know of what like she is." - -"She?" - -"The lady to whom your heart is lost." - -"That's an hundred she's," replied Philip airily. "And they are all -different!" - -"I dare swear I could enlighten M. de Ravel," drawled Bancroft. - -All eyes turned his way. Philip seated himself beside Mademoiselle. He -was smiling faintly. - -"Proceed, _mon ami_. Who is this lady that I have forgotten?" - -"Forgotten? Oh, come now, Jettan!" - -Philip played with Clothilde's fan; he was still smiling, but the -bright grey eyes that met Bancroft's held a challenge. - -"If it transpired, m'sieur, that I had not forgotten it is possible -that I might resent any liberties you or others thought to take with -that lady's name," he said softly. - -There was a sudden silence. No one could mistake the menacing note in -Philip's smooth voice. Saint-Dantin made haste to fill the breach. - -"The little Philippe is ready to fight us all, but it cannot be -permitted. We'll not plague him, for he is very devilish when he is -roused, I assure you!" He laughed easily and offered Bancroft snuff. - -"He is very fastidious," sneered Bancroft. - -M. le Comte closed his snuff-box and stepped back. He became politely -bored. - -"The subject grows somewhat tedious, I think. Mademoiselle, will you -dance?" - -Bancroft flushed. Mademoiselle sprang up. - -"I am promised to Jules!" She nodded, smiling, to De Bergeret. Together -they walked away from the little group. - -Saint-Dantin linked arms with Philip. - -"Come with me to the card-room, Philippe. Unless you wish to lead out -la Salevier?" He nodded to where an opulent beauty stood. - -"It's too fatiguing," said Philip. "I'll come." - -"Who is he, the ill-disposed gentleman in pink?" inquired the Comte, -when they were out of earshot. - -"A creature of no importance," shrugged Philip. - -"So I see. Yet he contrives to arouse your anger?" - -"Yes," admitted Philip. "I do not like the colour of his coat." - -"You may call upon me," said Saint-Dantin at once. "I do not like -anything about him. He was here before--last year. His conversation -lacks _finesse_. He is tolerated in London, _hein_?" - -"I don't know. I trust not." - -"_He, he!_ So he interfered between you and the lady?" - -Philip withdrew his arm. - -"Saint-Dantin!" - -"Oh, yes, yes, I know! We all know that in the background lurks--a -lady! Else why your so chaste and cold demeanour?" - -"Am I cold?" - -"At the bottom, yes. Is it not so?" - -"Certainly it is so. It's unfashionable to possess a heart." - -"Oh, Philippe, thou art a rogue." - -"So I have been told. Presumably because I am innocent of the slightest -indiscretion. Curious. No one dubs you rogue who so fully merit the -title. But I, whose reputation is spotless, am necessarily a wicked one -and a deceiver. I shall write a sonnet on the subject." - -"Ah, no!" begged Saint-Dantin in alarm. "Your sonnets are vile, -Philippe! So let us have no more verse from you, I pray! All else you -can do, but, _sacre nom de Dieu_, your verse--!" - -"Alas!" sighed Philip, "'tis my only ambition. I shall persevere." - -Saint-Dantin paused, a hand on the curtain that shut off the card-room. - -"Your only ambition, Philippe?" - -"For the moment," answered Philip sweetly. "All things pall on one -after a time." - -"Save the greatest ambition?" Saint-Dantin's eyes were purely -mischievous. - -"You are as inquisitive as a monkey," said Philip, and propelled him -into the card-room. - - * * * * * - -"For how long has that fellow lorded it here?" asked Bancroft of his -friend. - -M. de Chambert flicked one great cuff with his handkerchief. - -"Oh, some months! He is refreshing, is it not so? So young, so lovable." - -"Lovable be damned!" said Bancroft. - -De Chambert looked at him in surprise. - -"You don't like our little Philippe?" - -"No, I do not. Conceited young upstart!" - -"Con--ah, but no! You misunderstand him! He pretends, and it is very -amusing, but he is not conceited; he is just a _bebe_." - -"Damn it, is he everyone's pet?" - -"_C'est le dernier cri de Paris._ There are some who are jealous, -naturally, but all who know him like him too much to be jealous." - -"Jealous!" Bancroft snorted. "Jealous of that sprig!" - -De Chambert cast him a shrewd glance. - -"A word in your ear, m'sieu'! Do not speak your dislike too widely. _Le -petit Philippe_ has powerful friends. You will be frowned upon if you -sneer at him." - -Bancroft struggled for words. - -"I'll--not conceal from you, De Chambert, that I've a grudge against -your little Philippe. I punished him once before for impudence." - -"Aha? I don't think you were well advised to do so again. He would -have no lack of friends, and with a small-sword he is a veritable -devil. It would not be wise to show your enmity, for you will meet him -everywhere, and he is the ladies' darling. That says much, _hein_?" - -"And when I saw him last," spluttered Bancroft, "he was clad in a coat -I'd not give a lackey, and had as much conversation as a scarecrow!" - -"Yes? I heard some talk of that. He is a marvel, our Philippe." - -"Curse all marvels!" said Bancroft fervently. - - - - - Eight - - In Which Philip Delivers Himself of a Rondeau - - -M. Le Comte De Saint-Dantin gave a select dinner and card-party some -few weeks after the coming of Mr. Bancroft. Only his chosen intimates -were invited, and amongst them was Philip. At half-past five all the -guests, save one, were assembled in the library, and Saint-Dantin was -comparing his chronometer with the clock on the mantelpiece. - -"Now what comes to Philippe?" he inquired of no one in particular. -"Where is the child?" - -"He was at the ball last night," said M. de Chatelin, smoothing his -ruffles. "He left early and in great haste." He raised his eyes -and they were twinkling. "The pearl that hung from Mademoiselle de -Marcherand's right ear inspired him and he fled." - -"Fled? Why?" - -"I believe, to compose a ballade in its honour." - -Saint-Dantin flung up his hands. - -"May the devil fly away with Philippe and his verse! I dare swear it's -that that keeps him now." - -Paul de Vangrisse turned his head. - -"Do you speak of Philippe? I thought I heard his name?" - -"But yes! Henri declares he is possessed of an inspiration for a -ballade to Julie de Marcherand's pearl." - -De Vangrisse came towards them, stiff silks rustling. - -"Alas, it is too true. I visited him this morning and found him _en -deshabille_, clasping his brow. He seized on me and demanded a rhyme to -some word which I have forgot. So I left him." - -"Can no one convince Philippe that he is not a poet?" asked De Bergeret -plaintively. - -De Vangrisse shook his head. - -"One may tell him that he is no swordsman, and no true _cavalier_; one -may decry all his graces and he will laugh with one; but one may not -say that he will never be a poet. He will not believe it." - -"Oh, he believes it, _au fond_," answered Saint-Dantin. "It amuses him -to pretend. Ah, here he is!" - -Into the room came Philip, a vision in shades of yellow. He carried a -rolled sheet of parchment, tied with an amber ribbon. He walked with -a spring, and his eyes sparkled with pure merriment. He waved the -parchment roll triumphantly. - -Saint-Dantin went forward to greet him. - -"But of a lateness, Philippe," he cried, holding out his hands. - -"A thousand pardons, Louis! I was consumed of a rondeau until an hour -ago." - -"A rondeau?" said De Vangrisse. "This morning it was a ballade!" - -"This morning? Bah! That was a year ago. Since then it has been a -sonnet!" - -"_A Dieu ne plaise!_" exclaimed Saint-Dantin devoutly. - -"Of course," agreed Philip. "The theme demanded a rondeau. At three -this afternoon I discovered that it was so. Did you come to see me this -morning, Paul?" - -"You asked me for a rhyme," De Vangrisse reminded him. - -"So I did! A rhyme for _tout_ and _fou_, and you gave me _chou_!" - -"Whereupon you threw your wig at me, and I fled." - -"_Chou!_" repeated Philip with awful scorn. "_Chou!_" - -Gently but firmly Saint-Dantin took the parchment from him. - -"You shall read it to us later," he promised. "But now you will dine." - -"It goes well before meat," pleaded Philip. - -He was answered by ribald protests. - -"I'll not listen to your verse on an empty stomach," declared the -Vicomte. "Belike I shall appreciate it when in my cups." - -"You have no soul," said Philip sadly. - -"But I have a stomach, _petit Anglais_, and it cries aloud for -sustenance." - -"I weep for you," said Philip. "Why do I waste my poetic gems upon you?" - -Saint-Dantin took him by the elbow and led him to the door. - -"_Parbleu_, Philippe, it's what we wish to know. You shall expound to -us at dinner." - - * * * * * - -Midway through the meal the Vicomte remembered something. He nodded -across the table to Philip, who was engaged in a lively and witty -argument with De Bergeret. - -"_A propos_, Philippe. Your so dear friend has been talking about you!" - -"Which so dear friend?" asked Philip. "Jules, if you maintain in the -face of my exposition that Jeanne de Fontenay can rival la Salevier in -the matter of--" - -"But attend!" insisted the Vicomte. "The Englishman--the -Bancroft--_peste_, what a name for my tongue!" - -Philip broke off in the middle of his discourse. His eyes gleamed in -the candlelight. - -"Bancroft? What does he say of me?" - -"A great deal, if all I hear is true." - -Philip set down his glass. - -"Indeed! Now, what might you have heard, De Ravel?" - -"It would appear that _ce cher_ Bancroft feels no love for you, _mon -pauvre_. If De Graune is to be believed, he resents your presence here. -He says he has been deceived in you. It is all very sad." - -"Yes," said Philip. He frowned. "Very sad. But what does he say?" - -"He divulges your close-guarded secret," said the Vicomte solemnly. - -"Oh!" Philip turned in his chair and leaned his elbows on the table. -"It is possible that I shall have a word to say to M. Bancroft. -Continue, Charles!" - -"He speaks of a lady in 'Leetle Feeteldean' who has blue, blue eyes, -and--" - -"Shall we pass over her eyes?" smiled Philip. - -"But certainly! Her hair--" - -"And her hair? In fact, shall we pass over all her attractions?" - -"He is very much in love," loudly whispered De Bergeret. - -Philip flashed a smile at him. - -"Very much, Jules. Proceed, Vicomte." - -The Vicomte sipped his wine. - -"M. Bancroft, he told of your--ah--infatuation. He described the -lady--oh, fully!" - -The thin lips were growing into a straight, smiling line, tightly -compressed. Philip nodded. - -"_Allons! Allons!_" - -"Vicomte, does the gossip of the gaming-halls amuse you?" asked -Saint-Dantin sharply. - -But the Vicomte was a mischief-loving soul. He disregarded the rebuke. - -"A pretty piece, he called her, but no more than a simple country -wench. By name--" - -"Oh, have done!" exclaimed Saint-Dantin impatiently. - -"But no!" Philip waved him aside. "I am very interested in what M'sieur -has to say." - -"By name, Cleone. We have it from M. Bancroft that she falls in love -with him for his _beaux yeux_ and his so charming manner." - -"Ah!" Philip's chin sank into his cupped palms. "_Et puis?_" - -"It is further recorded that one M. Philippe Jettan importuned her with -his clumsy attentions, so that M. Bancroft was compelled to teach this -M. Philippe a sharp lesson. And when one asks, 'What of the pretty -Cleone?' he shrugs his shoulders and replies, very superbly, that he -wearied of her as of all others." - -Saint-Dantin's crisp voice cut into the sudden silence. - -"Philippe, fill your glass. Paul here tells me of a pass he conceived -in his duel with Mardry last month. A--" - -"I will ask Paul to show me that pass," said Philip. He leaned back -in his chair and laughed softly. A moment later he had resumed his -interrupted discussion with De Bergeret. - -Afterwards Saint-Dantin took him aside. - -"Philippe, I would not have had that happen at my table! Charles is -incorrigible!" - -"On the contrary, I am grateful to him," replied Philip. "I might not -have heard else. Now I will shut that fellow's mouth." - -"How?" asked Saint-Dantin blankly. - -Philip made an imaginary pass in the air. - -"Short of killing him," objected Saint-Dantin, "I don't see--" - -"Kill him? Not I! I may count on you to--uphold me?" - -"Of course. But what do you mean to do?" - -"First I will reverse the tables. I will punish him. Then I will assure -him that my friends will espouse my cause if he again mentions my -lady's name in public." - -Saint-Dantin nodded. - -"I'll vouch for those here to-night." - -"Wait! Any mention of her name will be reported to me, and I shall send -Francois to administer a little beating. It is well." - -The Comte laughed outright. - -"Oh, Philippe, thou art a young hot-head! Is this Cleone of so great -account?" - -Philip drew himself up. - -"She is the lady whom I hope one day to make my wife." - -"_Comment?_ Your wife? _Ah, voyons! Cela change l'affaire!_ I did not -know that. Stop his talk, by all means." - -"It's what I am going to do," said Philip. "_Scelerat!_" - -"With a vile taste for pink, _hein_? You'll call upon me?" - -"If you please. And, I think, De Bergeret." - -"Saint-Dantin, a wager!" called De Vangrisse. "What are you talking of -so earnestly?" - -"Of pink coats," answered Philip. "Oh, my rondeau! Where is it?" - -"Devil take your rondeau!" cried the Vicomte. "Come and hazard a throw -with me." - -"_A l'instant!_" Philip untied the ribbon about his rondeau and spread -out the parchment. "I insist that you shall listen to this product of -my brain!" He mounted a chair amid derisive cheers, and bowed right and -left in mock solemnity. "To the Pearl that Trembles in her Ear. - - "_Cette petite perle qui tremblotte_ - _Au bout ton oreille, et qui chuchotte_ - _Je ne sais quoi de tendre et de malin._ - _A l'air a la fois modeste et coquin,_ - _Si goguenarde est elle et si devote._ - - "_A regarder c'est toute une gavotte_ - _Ou l'on s'avance, se penche, et pivote,_ - _Lors que tu branles d'un movement fin_ - _Cette petite perle._ - - "_C'est une etoile dans le ciel qui flotte--_ - _Un vif eclair qui luit dans une grotte--_ - _Un feu follet qui hors de mon chemin_ - _M'attire, m'eblouit, m'egare--_" - -Philip paused for his final effect. Arose Saint-Dantin, and like a -flash interjected: - - "_Enfin,_ - _Elle m'embete--saperlipopette!--_ - _Cette petite perle._" - -Outraged, Philip threw the parchment at his head. - - - - - Nine - - Mr. Bancroft Is Enraged - - -"Philippe, do you go to De Farraud's to-night?" asked De Bergeret -suddenly. He was lounging on the couch in Philip's room, watching -Philip adjust his patches. - -"De Farraud's? I'd not thought of it. Whom shall I meet there?" - -"Your very obedient," said De Bergeret, flourishing his hat. - -"The prospect does not entice me," answered Philip. "No, don't retort! -Don't speak. Don't move!" He leaned forward, shifting a candle to throw -its light on his face, and frowned at his reflection. The white hand -that held the haresfoot wavered an instant, and then alighted at the -corner of his mouth. Philip sat back, studying the effect. - -"Whom else shall I meet, Jules?" - -"The usual people, I fancy. And some others, no doubt." - -"De Farraud's friends are so very mixed," deplored Philip. "Do you -suppose that De Chambert will be present?" - -"Nothing is more certain," yawned De Bergeret. "But it will be amusing, -and the play will be high, which is all that matters." - -"But De Chambert wears puce small-clothes," objected Philip. - -"Does he? _Mordieu_, I'd like to see that! Puce small-clothes, -forsooth! And what does our Philippe wear?" - -Philip glanced lovingly down at his pearl-grey breeches. - -"Grey, and palest pink, with lacings of silver." He slipped out of his -gaily-hued robe, and stood up. - -De Bergeret levelled his eyeglass at him. - -"_Parbleu, Philippe!_ Grey lace!" - -Philip shook out his ruffles. - -"A sweet conceit, _hein_? But wait! Francois, my vest!" - -His valet brought it, and helped Philip to put it on. It was a very -exquisite confection of pink and silver brocade. - -De Bergeret was interested. - -"I'll swear you designed that, Philippe! Now for the coat!" - -When Philip had at last succeeded in entering into the coat it was some -ten minutes later. Francois stepped back, panting; Philip arranged his -sword to his satisfaction. - -"A careless sprinkling of rubies, _hein_? One in the cravat, one here, -another in my wig. And on my fingers, so!..." - -"Perfect!" applauded De Bergeret. "_Tonnerre de Dieu_, pink -hummingbirds on your stockings!" - -Francois beamed and clasped his hands, gazing in rapt admiration at -Philip's startlingly clocked legs. - -Philip laughed. - -"Do they please your artistic soul, Jules? And are they to be wasted -on De Farraud? I had intended to go to the Saint-Clamond rout, where I -know I shall meet Clothilde. Come with me!" - -De Bergeret shook his head. - -"I promised De Vangrisse I'd be at De Farraud's some time to-night. -Forget the lovely Clothilde, Philippe. Bethink you, your so dear friend -Bancroft will come to Farraud's in De Chambert's train!" - -Philip was fixing a long ruby ear-ring in his right ear, but he stopped -suddenly, and looked over his shoulder at De Bergeret. - -"_Comment?_" - -"Why, you leap to my bait!" said De Bergeret, amused. "I thought you -could not resist so great an attraction!" - -Philip fixed the ruby and swept round for his cloak and hat. - -"Faith, that can I not. I come, Jules, I come! Francois, thou rogue, my -snuff-box! Would that he may be wearing that salmon-pink! Francois, my -cane! Jules, you are sitting on my cloak! _Sangdieu!_ My new cloak!" -He swept De Bergeret off the coat, and shook out the soft, rose-lined -folds. "God be praised, it is unhurt!" With a deft movement he swung it -over his shoulders and fastened it. "My hat! Jules, what think you of -my hat?" - -"A grey hat! Philippe, what an audacity! You are really coming to De -Farraud's?" - -"To meet the so dear M. Bancroft. _En avant, Jules!_" - -De Bergeret went to the glass. - -"Cultivate a more restful manner, _mon petit_! I am not to be hurried. -Do you like this mixture of violet and cream?" - -"I like everything you have on, even the so badly arranged cravat! I am -consumed with impatience! Come!" - -"But why? Are you hasting to see the unspeakable Bancroft?" - -"But yes! Whom else? I will explain _en route_." - -De Bergeret suffered himself to be led to the door. - -"Philippe, it is not _convenable_ to display such enthusiasm. Languor -is now the fashion." - -"I am a fashion unto myself, then. I am an original. And I go to call -out M. Bancroft!" - -De Bergeret stopped short. - -"What! A brawl? No, then, I'll not come!" - -"A brawl? Is it possible? I shall conduct the affair with great -_douceur_, I assure you! You and Saint-Dantin are to be my seconds." - -"_Misericorde!_ Philippe, you become more and more tiresome!" -expostulated his friend. "Why must you fight this fellow?" - -"An old quarrel--the settling of an unpaid score! _Allons!_" - - * * * * * - -"Oh, the devil," muttered Bancroft. - -"_Ou donc?_" inquired Le Vallon, who was sitting next to him and who -understood English. - -Bancroft shot an angry glance towards the door. Le Vallon turned to see -what had excited his wrath. - -Talking to De Farraud, with many quick gestures and smiles, was Philip. -He had just arrived, and he was apologizing for his lateness, throwing -all the blame on De Bergeret, who accepted it meekly. - -"Oh, the little Englishman!" said Le Vallon scornfully. "Always late, -always eccentric. And grey lace! What an affectation!" - -Philip cast a swift glance round the room. His eyes rested an instant -on Bancroft's face, then they passed on. Two or three men called to -him, and he presently went to dice with De Vangrisse. But when Le -Vallon left Bancroft to join a faro group, Philip swept up his dice, -and with a laughing word to De Vangrisse, promising to return, he -walked over to Bancroft's table, and sat down in Le Vallon's chair with -a swirl of his full skirts. - -Bancroft was about to rise. Astonished at Philip's sudden advent, he -sank back again. - -"To what do I owe this honour?" he demanded. - -Philip dealt out the cards. - -"I will tell you. A hand of piquet? You will declare?" Bancroft sorted -his hand rather sullenly. Not until he had declared and played his card -did Philip speak again. Then he took the trick and leaned forward. - -"It comes to my ears that you have been bandying a certain lady's name -about Paris in a way that does not please me. You understand, yes?" - -"What the devil is it to you?" cried Bancroft, crimson-faced. - -"Sh, sh! Not so loud, if you please! Go on playing! I am informed that -you speak of this lady as a pretty piece! It is not how I will have -you speak of her. Also, you say that she fell in love with you _en -desespere_. _Eh bien_, I say that you lie in your throat!" - -"Sir!" - -"_Doucement, doucement._ Further, I say that if so be you again mention -this lady's name in public I shall send my lackeys to punish you. It is -understood?" - -"You--you--you impudent young cockerel! I shall know how to answer -this! What's Cleone to you, eh?" - -The pleasant smile died. Philip leaned forward. - -"That name I will not have spoken, m'sieur. Strive to bear it in mind. -I have many friends, and they will tell me if you speak of the lady -when I am not by. And of the rest I have warned you." - -"Ye can understand this, Mr. Jettan--I'll speak of her how and when I -like!" - -Philip shrugged. - -"You talk foolishly. There is no question of refusal to comply with my -wishes. If I so please I can make Paris ve-ry uncomfortable for you. -You know that, I think." - -Bancroft was speechless with rage. - -"There is another matter," continued Philip amiably. "Once before I -had occasion to complain of your manner. I do so again. And I find the -colour of your ribbons most distasteful to mine eye." - -Bancroft sprang up, his chair grating on the polished floor. - -"Perhaps you'll have the goodness to name your friends, sir?" he choked. - -Philip bowed. - -"This time, yes. It is a little debt I have to pay. M. le Comte de -Saint-Dantin and M. de Bergeret will act for me. Or De Vangrisse -yonder, or M. le Duc de Vally-Martin." - -"The first named will suffice," snapped Bancroft. "My friends will wait -on them as soon as may be." With that he flounced away to the other end -of the room. - -Philip walked back to De Vangrisse and perched on the arm of his chair. - -De Bergeret cast his dice and nodded at Philip. - -"The deed is done?" - -"Most satisfactorily," answered Philip. "Throw, Paul, you can beat -that." - -"Not I! Jules has the devil's own luck to-night. If it is not an -impertinence, are you to meet M. Bancroft?" - -"Of course. Oh, _peste_!"--as De Vangrisse cast his dice. - -"What did I tell you? May I second you?" - -"A thousand thanks, Paul. But Saint-Dantin and Jules have consented to -act for me." - -"Well, I shall come as a spectator," said De Vangrisse. "Jules, another -hundred! I'll not be beaten by you!" - - * * * * * - -Le Vallon, who had watched the brief encounter between his friend and -Philip with great curiosity, now edged across to where Bancroft was -standing. - -Bancroft turned. - -"Come apart a moment," he said. His voice was still trembling with -passion. He and Le Vallon drew near to the window. - -"You saw that damned fellow come up to me just now?" - -"But yes! I watched very closely. What did he want with you?" - -"He came to impose his will--his will!--on mine. Curse his impudence!" - -"Why? What did he say?" asked Le Vallon inquisitively. - -Bancroft did not answer. - -"I want you to act for me," he said abruptly. "He--insulted me, and -I've sworn to teach him a lesson." - -Le Vallon drew back a little. - -"What? You seek to kill him? Kill _le petit Anglais_?" His tone was -dubious. - -"No, not quite that. I've no wish for trouble. He has too many friends. -I'll teach him to leave me alone!" - -"Oh, yes! But..." Le Vallon pursed his lips. - -"But what?" barked Bancroft. - -"It is said that he is a not-to-be-despised swordsman. He pinked Armand -de Sedlamont with great ease." - -"Pooh!" said Bancroft. "Six months ago--" - -"I know, I know, but he has changed." - -Bancroft scowled. - -"Well, will you act for me or not?" - -Le Vallon drew himself up. - -"M'sieur, I do not entirely appreciate your manner." - -Bancroft laughed uneasily. - -"Oh, come, Le Vallon! Don't take offence! That puppy has so annoyed me -that I can scarce keep my temper. Where's De Chambert?" - -"Playing at lansquenet with De Farraud. And I think we had best mingle -with the others. I do not care to appear conspicuous." - -Bancroft caught at his arm. - -"But you will second me?" - -"I shall be honoured," bowed Le Vallon. "And I hope you will succeed in -showing my fine gentleman his place." - -Later in the evening Saint-Dantin sauntered over to where Philip -sat, perched on the edge of the table, toasting some of his friends. -Saint-Dantin joined the gathering and laid a hand on Philip's shoulder. -Philip, who was drinking, choked. - -"_Malediction!_ Oh, 'tis you, Louis! What now?" - -"There is a rumour that you go to fight _ce cher_ Bancroft, Philippe." - -"Already?" Philip was startled. "Who told you?" - -"_Personne._" Saint-Dantin smiled. "It is whispered here and there. And -Bancroft looks so black at you. It's true?" - -"Of course it's true! Did I not say I should do it? His seconds are to -wait upon you and Jules." - -"How very fatiguing!" sighed Saint-Dantin. "But quite amusing. One -jubilates. Bancroft is not at all liked. He is so _entreprenant_. An' I -mistake not, you will have an audience," he chuckled. - -"What?" Philip gripped his wrist. "I won't have an audience!" - -Saint-Dantin blinked, loosening the clasp on his wrist. - -"_Pas si eclatant_, Philippe," he said. "You twist and turn like a -puppet on wires! I only know that at least five here to-night swear -they'll see the fight." - -"But it is monstrous!" objected Philip. "I forbid you to divulge the -whereabouts of the meeting." - -"Oh, _entendu_! But the secret will out." - -"How am I to keep a steady wrist with a dozen ogling fools watching?" -demanded Philip. - -"You must keep it steady," said De Chatelin. "My money's for you, -_petit Anglais_!" - -Philip looked genuinely perturbed. - -"Henri, it is iniquitous! It is not a public exhibition that I engage -in! One would say we were gladiators!" - -"_Reste tranquille_," grinned De Vangrisse. "We are all backing you, -_mon petit_." - -"I trust you'll not forget to inform His Majesty of the rendezvous," -said Philip, resorting to bitter sarcasm. "And have you engaged a -fiddler to enliven the meeting?" - -"_Philippe se fache_," teased De Chatelin. "Quiet, little fighting -cock!" - -"I shall write an ode!" threatened Philip direfully. - -"Ah no, that is too much!" cried De Vangrisse with feeling. - -"And I shall read it to you before I engage. Well?" - -"It is a heavy price to pay," answered Paul, "but not too heavy for the -entertainment." - - - - - Ten - - In Which a Letter Is Read - - -Cleone sat on a stool at Sir Maurice's knee and sighed. So did Sir -Maurice, and knew that they sighed for the same thing. - -"Well, my dear," he said, trying to speak cheerfully, "how is your -mamma?" - -"The same as ever, I thank you," answered Cleone. - -Sir Maurice patted her hand. - -"And how is little Cleone?" - -"Oh, sir, can you ask? I am very well," she said, with great -sprightliness. "And you?" - -Sir Maurice was more honest. - -"To tell the truth, my dear, I miss that young scamp." - -Cleone played with her fingers, her head bent. - -"Do you, sir? He should be home again ere long. Do you--do you yet know -where he is?" - -"No. That does not worry me. My family does not write letters." - -"Mr. Tom--has not told you, I suppose." - -"No. I've not seen Tom for some time.... The boy has been away six -months now. Gad, but I'd like to see him walk in at that door!" - -Cleone's head sank a little lower. - -"Do you think--harm could have come to him, sir?" - -"No. Else had I heard. Faith, it's our own fault, Cleone, and we are -grumbling!" - -"I never--" - -"My dear, don't pretend to me! Do you think I don't know?" - -Cleone was silent. - -"We sent Philip to acquire polish. Heaven knows what has happened to -him! Would you care greatly if he returned--without the polish, child?" - -"No!" whispered Cleone. - -"Nor should I. Strange! But I should prefer it, I confess." - -"Do you think--do you think he--he will be--very elegant, Sir Maurice?" - -He smiled. - -"I fear not, Cleone. Can you see our Philip tricked up in town clothes, -apeing town ways?" - -"N--no." - -There was silence for a few minutes. - -"Sir Maurice." - -"My dear?" - -"Mamma has a letter from my aunt, Lady Malmerstoke." - -"So? And what does she say therein?" - -"She--she wants me to go to her for the season." - -Sir Maurice looked down at her. - -"And you are going?" - -"I don't--know. I--do not wish to leave you, sir." - -"That is very kind of you, child. But I'd not have you stay for my -sake." - -"It's no such thing, sir. I do not want to go." - -"Why, Cleone, not for the season? Think of the balls and the routs." - -"I don't--care about it." It was a forlorn little voice, and Sir -Maurice patted her hand again. - -"Tut-tut, my love!" - -Another silence. - -"I do not think it is very kind in Philip to stay away from you for so -long a time," said Cleone wistfully. - -"You forget, dear. I sent him. He is but obeying me." - -"And--and me." - -Sir Maurice found nothing to say to that. - -"Was I--perhaps--very wicked--to--to--do what he said--I did?" - -"What was that, Cleone?" - -"Th--throw away--an honest man's love for--for--oh, you know the things -he said!" - -"Silly young fool! You gave him his just deserts, Cleone. And you may -vouch for it that he will be back here at your feet in a very short -while." - -Cleone glanced up through her lashes. - -"Do you really think so?" she asked eagerly. - -"Of course I do!" he answered stoutly. - -Just then a bell clanged somewhere in the distance. Cleone jumped up -and ran to the window which looked out on the avenue. She tip-toed, -craning her neck to see who stood in the porch. - -"Why, it is Sir Harold Bancroft!" she exclaimed. - -"Plague take him, then!" said Sir Maurice, disagreeably. "I can't stand -the fellow or his sprig of a son!" - -Cleone blushed and continued to stand with her back to the room until -footsteps sounded along the passage, and the door opened to admit the -visitor. - -Sir Maurice rose. - -"Give ye good den, Bancroft. It's good of you to come to visit me this -cold day." - -Bancroft wrung the thin hand, pressing Sir Maurice's rings into his -fingers. He bowed jerkily to the curtseying Cleone, and blurted forth -his errand. - -"'Tis a joke I must have you share! 'Twill be the death of you, I vow. -You knew my son was in Paris?" - -Sir Maurice put forward a chair. - -"Really? No, I did not know." - -"Well, he is. And"--a chuckle escaped him--"so is yours!" - -"Oh!" It was a smothered exclamation from Cleone. - -Sir Maurice smiled. - -"I guessed as much," he said, quite untruthfully. "Have you news from -Henry?" - -"No, not I! But I've a letter from an old friend of -mine--Satterthwaite. Do ye know him?" - -Sir Maurice shook his head. Having seen his guest into a chair, he sat -down on the couch, and beckoned Cleone to his side. - -"No. He, too, is in Paris?" - -"Ay. Now wait while I find the letter! You'll split o' laughter when -you've heard me read it!" He rummaged in his capacious pockets, and -drew forth two or three crumpled sheets. These he spread out, and -proceeded to find the place. - -"'I trust....' No, that's not it! 'We are' ... Hum, hum, hum! Ah, here -we have it! Just listen to this!" He held the parchment close to his -nose and began to read: - -"'... Whom should I meet but your boy, Henry! I had no notion he was -in Paris, or I should have sought him out, you may depend. The manner -of my meeting with him was most singular, as you will agree, and it -is the more interesting as the occasion affords the subject for the -latest joke of Paris, nay, I may almost say scandal, though to be sure -I mean not our meeting, but that which I am about to relate....' A bit -involved, that," remarked Bancroft, frowning. - -"Not at all," said Sir Maurice. "I understand perfectly." - -"Well, it's more than I do! However: 'I came upon Moosoo de -Chateau-Banvau the other day....'" - -"Chateau-Banvau!" - -"Eh? Do ye know him?" - -"Do I know him! As I know my brother!" - -"Fancy! There's a coincidence! But there's more to come! Where was I? -Oh, yes--'came upon Moosoo de Chateau-Banvau the other day and found -him in great amusement, which he offered me to share, and the which -I agreed to. He propounded me the joke that we were to see, and one -in which his _protege_, a Mr. Philip Jettan, was the part cause of -and your son, Henry, the other!' Gad, that's a fine sentence! Are ye -listening to me, Jettan?" - -There was no need to ask that question. Both his auditors had their -whole attention fixed on him. Satisfied, he continued: "'This young -Jettan is, so says the Marquis, the craze of Fashionable Paris, the -ladies' darling'--do ye hear that now?--'and the maddest young scamp -that you could wish for. Then the Marquis further told me that Henry -was in Paris and engaged to fight a duel with this Jettan.'" - -"Oh, heavens!" cried Cleone. - -"Ye may well say so, my dear! Now, wait a while--the joke's against me, -I confess, but I had to tell you--'The cause whereof, it is rumoured, -is some lady whom both are enamoured of, some French wench, I think.'" - -Cleone was rigid. Her fingers tightened unconsciously on Sir Maurice's -arm. - -"'Jettan being a great favourite among the young sparks here, they all, -having got wind of the affair, combined among themselves, laying wagers -about the fight, the most of the money being laid on Jettan, as I hear. -Then to bait him, or what-not, they conspired to be present at the -meeting despite Jettan's protests. The Marquis laughed mightily here, -and said that Jettan threatened to read them an ode should they appear, -which he seemed to find vastly entertaining on account of some joke or -other concerning Jettan's poetry.'" - -"Philip's _poetry_?..." said Sir Maurice faintly. "Proceed, Bancroft." - -"Ay, wait a bit! Here we are: 'The Marquis was going to be present, -having heard of the rumour, and swore to take me along with him. The -which I did consent to, as you may imagine. Well, we came out to -Neuilly in due course at half-after eight one morning, and mighty -cold it was, but that's neither here nor there. There we found a fair -gathering of young rakes with their horses or chariots, some half -dozen in all, laying wagers and all mightily amused. And, stap me, -if there was not a fiddler scraping away as if his life depended on -it. Soon after we were come, up drives a coach and out jumps three -men, the first in great disorder at finding so many there assembled. -This was Jettan, and prodigious elegant and finicky he was, too, all -patched and painted, and tricked up in velvets and silks and I don't -know what. He fell into a great rage, though he was laughing half the -time, and, indeed, 'twas a ridiculous situation, and he could scarce -help but to be tickled by it. He turns to his seconds and rates them, -but they were too amused to do aught but to hold their sides. Then -young Jettan orders us all off and especially begs the Marquis to exert -his influence, which he would not do. Then Jettan appealed to us to -withdraw, whereat they were all the more entertained, and adjured him -to _se taire_, as they call it, calling him _petit Philippe_ and the -like. Then Jettan started to laugh himself and pulls out a roll of -parchment from his pocket, and was for declaiming some ode he had writ, -but that three of them took it from him. Then he says, "At least, send -that damned fiddler away!" and they replied, "All in good time," but -'twas himself had asked for him. Before he could say more, which he -was about to do, up comes another coach, and out gets your boy, Henry, -and his seconds. When they saw what was toward they were mightily put -out, as you may imagine, and, indeed, Henry was white and purple with -rage, saying this was an insult and he was not to be so mocked, and -the like. His seconds spoke apart with young Jettan's, and I give you -my word, they were dancing with fury, at least one was, but the little -one seemed more entertained. Then up comes Jettan, very solemn and -dignified, and bows to Henry. "I ask you to believe, moosoo," says -he, "that this is none of my designing. I desire," says he, "to offer -you my apologies for my friends' ill-timed pleasantry." Henry could -scarce mouth forth a word, so enraged was he, and was for retiring -at once, saying that he had borne much, but this was too much. The -fiddler was ordered to stop his scraping now, and the onlookers all -vowed they had come with serious intent to watch the fight, and would -not go until they had done so. Jettan offers to meet Henry another -day, when and where he will, but I could see Henry was burning to run -him through. "Since we are here," says he, "let us go on with it. I -await your convenience," he says, and, "I thank you," replies Jettan -and stands back. Henry's seconds were all for retiring, but he'd have -none of it, and bids them go to and choose the ground. At last all was -prepared, and the two stripped off their coats and vests. Everyone was -becomingly sober now, and, indeed, mighty anxious for young Jettan, -who is the smaller of the two, and Henry looking murder as he was. -Henry fought devilish hard, and, indeed, is a cunning fencer, as you -no doubt apprehend, but young Jettan was like a bit of quicksilver, in -and out with his sword most finicky and dainty. Soon we saw that Henry -was no match for him at all, and, indeed, could have been run through -the body a score of times, Jettan playing with him very pretty to see, -but I was sore distressed to see Henry so put to it. He gave Jettan -but the faintest scratch, and before we knew what was to do, there was -Henry reeling back and his sword on the ground. At which Jettan bows -very polite, and but a mite out of breath, and picks up the sword and -hands it to Henry. Henry was for continuing, and a brave lad he is, but -the seconds would have none of it, and 'twas all over. "I trust you -are satisfied, sir?" says Jettan. "Satisfied be damned!" pants Henry, -clutching at his shoulder. "Of the other matter between us," says -Jettan, "I can only counsel you to remember, for I meant what I said." -Then he walks off and we rode away.'" Bancroft stopped. "I saw the joke -was against me. What do ye think of that, Sir Maurice?" - -Sir Maurice drew a deep breath. - -"My God, I would I had been there!" he said fervently. - -"Ay, 'twould have been a fine sight, I vow! But did ye ever hear the -like of it? Philip and the petticoats, eh? These lads, Sir Maurice! -These lads! Satterthwaite says he writes madrigals and what-not to the -ladies' eyelashes!" Bancroft went off into a long chuckle. "And so -ruffled my young hot-head, who had always a way with the petticoats!" - -Cleone rose and walked to the window. She opened it, cooling her hot -cheeks. And there she stayed, seated on the low couch that ran under -the window, until Bancroft finally took his departure. - -When Sir Maurice returned from seeing his guest out of the house, he -found her pale again, and very stiff. - -"Ahem!" said Sir Maurice. Then, brusquely: "Pack o' lies!" - -"Do you think so?" said Cleone hopefully. - -"Of course I do! The boy is but doing what I told him to do--acquiring -polish and _savoir faire_ with your sex, my dear." - -Cleone sprang up. - -"You told him to--oh, how could you, sir?" - -"My dear, it's less than nothing, I dare swear. But Philip worsting -Bancroft like that! Philip the pet of Society! Gad, I never hoped for -this!" - -"Nor I," said Cleone bitterly. "And--and 'tis my -own--f-fault--for--s-sending him away--s-so c-cruelly, but--but--oh, -how _dare_ he?" - -Sir Maurice was silent. - -"He--he--I thought he--" she broke off, biting her lip. After a slight -pause she spoke again, with would-be lightness. "I--do you know, I -think I shall go to my aunt after all?" - -"Will you, my dear?" said Sir Maurice. - - * * * * * - -That evening he was moved to write to his brother, an infrequent -proceeding. The outcome of that letter was a brief note from Tom, which -reached Philip a week later. - -"Dear Nephew,--The Devil's in it now and no Mistake. Old Satterthwaite -was Present at your crazy Duel, and has writ the whole Tale to Harry -Bancroft, who, curse him for an interfering old Fool, read it to your -Father and Cleone. The Tale is that you and B. quarrelled over some -French Minx, which may be True for all I know. In any Case, Cleone -is monstrous put out, and Comes to Towne to her Aunt, old Sally -Malmerstoke. Maurice writes me this and demands your Return, being -Upset for the Girl's sake, but secretly Delighted at the Story, if I -read his Letter aright. Do as you please, dear Boy, but I warn you, -Cleone is in the Mood for any Madness, as is the way when a Maid thinks -herself slighted. And she is a Prodigious pretty Chit. My love to -Chateau-Banvau and to Yr Self.--Tom." - - - - - Eleven - - Philip Astonishes His Uncle - - -Thomas, deep in the latest copy of the _Rambler_, was aroused by the -sound of wheels drawing up outside the house. He rose and stretched -himself, wondering who could choose such a day wherein to visit him. -He strolled to the window and peered out into the foggy street. He was -surprised to see, not a light town-chariot, but a large travelling -coach, top-heavy with baggage, and drawn by four steaming horses. As he -watched, the door of the vehicle was thrown open and a slight gentleman -sprang out, not waiting for the steps to be let down. He was muffled -in a many-caped overcoat of Parisian cut, and shining leather boots -were on his feet. Tom was puzzled. Then, from out the coach, issued -two other men, evidently servants, the one small and wiry, the other -lank and cadaverous. Both seemed depressed. The man in the well-cut -cloak waved his hands at them and appeared to shoot forth a number of -instructions. The little man, scarcely visible beneath the bandboxes -that he carried, nodded, shivered, and rounded on the lean man. Then -the man in the cloak turned, and ran up the steps to Tom's front door. -A long bell-peal sounded through the house. - -Tom walked to the fire and stood with his back to it. Possibly this was -his friend Mainwaring come to visit him, but why did he bring so much -baggage? Tom rather hoped that the unknown guest had come to his house -in mistake for another's. - -But a quick tread came across the hall and the door of the library was -swept open. Hat in hand, the visitor stood before Tom, bowing. - -"Revered uncle, I kiss your hands!" And he proceeded to do so. - -"God ha' mercy, it's Philip!" gasped Tom. "I never expected you for -another week, lad!" - -Philip tossed his hat and gloves on to the table and wriggled out of -his cloak. - -"I am _de trop_, no?" - -"Never in your life!" Tom assured him. "Stand up, child, and let me -look at you!" Then, as Philip clicked his heels together and faced him, -laughing, his eyes widened, and his lips formed a soundless whistle. -"By the Lord Harry, Philip, it's marvellous! How could you do it in six -months----!" - -Philip rustled over to the fire and stooped, warming his hands. - -"Fog, cold, damp! Brrh! The unspeakable climate! Tom, it is permitted -that I stay with you until I find an abode?" - -With difficulty his uncle withdrew his gape from Philip's -claret-coloured coat of fine cloth, laced with gold. - -"Can you ask? Stay as long as you will, lad, you're a joy to behold!" - -"_Merci du compliment!_" smiled Philip. "You perhaps admire the mixture -of claret and biscuit as I wear it?" - -Tom's eyes travelled down to the creaseless biscuit-coloured -small-clothes. - -"Ay. I admire everything. The boots most of all. The boots--Philip, -where did you obtain them?" - -Philip glanced carelessly down at his shapely leg. - -"They were made for me. Me, I am not satisfied with them. I shall give -them to Francois." - -"Give them to Francois?" cried his uncle. "Ye wicked boy! Where is the -fellow?" - -"He and Jacques are struggling with my baggage and Moggat." He -stretched out a detaining hand as Tom started forward to the door. "Ah, -do not disturb yourself. I have spoken with _ce bon_ Moggat, and all is -well. He will arrange everything." - -Tom came back. - -"He will be in a frenzy, Philip! All that baggage!" - -"All--that baggage?" Philip spoke with uplifted brows. "It has -arrived?" He went to the window and looked out. "But no, not yet." - -"B--but--is there more to come?" asked Tom. - -"But of course! The bulk follows me." - -Tom sat down weakly. - -"And you who six months ago thought yourself rich in the possession of -three coats." - -Philip came back to the fire. He made a little grimace of distaste. - -"Those far-off days! That is ended--completely!" - -Tom cast him a shrewd glance. - -"What, all of it? Cleone?" - -"Ah!" Philip smiled. "That is--another--matter. I have to thank you for -your letter, Tom." - -"It brought you back?" - -"_En partie._ She is here?" - -"Ay, with Sally Malmerstoke. She is already noticed. Sally takes her -everywhere. She is now looked for--and courted." His eyes twinkled. - -"Oho!" said Philip. He poured out a glass of burgundy from the decanter -that stood on a small table. "So she is furious with me, yes?" - -"So I believe. Satterthwaite wrote that you and Bancroft fought over -the fair name of some French lass. Did you?" - -Philip sipped his wine. - -"Not a whit. 'Twas her own fair name, _a vrai dire_." - -"Oh! You'll tell her that, of course?" - -"Not at all." - -Tom stared. - -"What then? Have you some deep game in mind, Philip?" - -"Perhaps. Oh, I don't know! I thank her for reforming me, but, being -human, I am hurt and angry! _Le petit Philippe se fache_," he said, -smiling suddenly. "He would see whether it is himself she loves, or--a -painted puppet. It's foolish, but what would you?" - -"So you are now a painted puppet?" said Tom politely. - -"What else?" - -"Dear me!" said Tom, and relapsed into profound meditation. - -"I want to have her love me for--myself, and not for my clothes, or my -airs and graces. It's incomprehensible?" - -"Not entirely," answered Tom. "I understand your feelings. What's to -do?" - -"Merely my baggage," said Philip, with another glance towards the -window. "It is the coach that you hear." - -"No, not that." Tom listened. Voices raised in altercation sounded in -the hall. - -Philip laughed. - -"That is the inimitable Francois. I do not think that Moggat finds -favour in his eyes." - -"I'll swear he does not find favour in Moggat's eyes! Who is the other -one?" - -"Jacques, my groom and _homme a tout faire_!" - -"Faith, ye've a retinue!" - -"What would you?" shrugged Philip. He sat down opposite his uncle, and -stretched his legs to the fire. "Heigh-ho! I do not like this weather." - -"Nor anyone else. What are you going to do, now that you have returned?" - -"Who knows? I make my bow to London Society, I amuse myself a -little--ah yes! and I procure a house." - -"Do you make your bow to Cleone?" - -An impish smile danced into Philip's eyes. - -"I present myself to Cleone--as she would have had me. A drawling, -conceited, and mincing fop. Which I am not, believe me!" - -Tom considered him. - -"No, you're not. You don't drawl." - -"I shall drawl," promised Philip. "And I shall be very languid." - -"It's the fashion, of course. You did not adopt it?" - -"It did not entice me. I am _le petit sans repos_, and _le petit_ -Philippe _au C[oe]ur Perdu_, and _petit original_. _He, he_, I shall be -homesick! It is inevitable." - -"Are you so much at home in Paris?" asked Tom, rather surprised. "You -liked the Frenchies?" - -"Liked them! Could I have disliked them?" - -"I should have thought it possible--for you. Did you make many friends?" - -"_A revendre!_ They took me to their bosoms." - -"Did they indeed! Who do you count amongst your intimates?" - -"Saint-Dantin--you know him?" - -"I've met him. Tall and dark?" - -"Ay. Paul de Vangrisse, Jules de Bergeret, Henri de Chatelin--oh, I -can't tell you! They are all charming!" - -"And the ladies?" - -"Also charming. Did you ever meet Clothilde de Chaucheron, or Julie de -Marcherand? _Ah, voila ce qui fait ressouvenir!_ I count that _rondeau_ -one of my most successful efforts. You shall hear it some time or -other." - -"That _what_?" ejaculated Tom, sitting upright in his surprise. - -"A _rondeau_: 'To the Pearl that Trembles in her Ear.' I would you -could have seen it." - -"Which? The _rondeau_?" - -"The pearl, man! The _rondeau_ you shall most assuredly see." - -"Merciful heaven!" gasped Tom. "A _rondeau_! Philip--poet! _Sacr-re -mille petits cochons!_" - - * * * * * - -"Monsieur dines at home this evening?" asked Francois. - -Philip sat at his dressing-table, busy with many pots and his face. He -nodded. - -"The uncle of Monsieur receives, without doubt?" - -"A card-party," said Philip, tracing his eyebrows with a careful hand. - -Francois skipped to the wardrobe and flung it open. With a finger to -his nose he meditated aloud. - -"The blue and silver ... _un peu trop soigne_. The orange ... _peu -convenable_. The purple the purple _essayons_!" - -Philip opened the rouge-jar. - -"The grey I wore at De Flaubert's last month." - -Francois clapped a hand to his head. - -"_Ah, sot!_" he apostrophised himself. "_Voila qui est tres bien._" He -dived into the wardrobe, emerging presently with the required dress. He -laid it on the bed, stroking it lovingly, and darted away to a large -chest. From it he brought forth the pink and silver waistcoat that -De Bergeret had admired, and the silver lace. Then he paused. "_Les -bas?... Les bas aux oiseaux-mouches ... ou sont-ils?_" He peered into -a drawer, turning over neat piles of stockings. A convulsion of fury -seemed to seize him, and he sped to the door. "Ah, _sapristi! Coquin! -Jacques!_" - -In answer to his frenzied call came the cadaverous one, shivering. -Francois seized him by the arm and shook him. - -"Thou misbegotten son of a toad!" he raved. "Where is the small box I -bade you guard with your life? Where is it, I say. Thou--" - -"I gave it into your hands," said Jacques sadly. "Into your hands, your -very hands, in this room here by the door! I swear it." - -"Swear it? What is it to me, your swear? I say I have not seen the box! -At Dover, what did I do? _Nom d'un nom_, did I not say to you, lose thy -head sooner than that box?" His voice rose higher and higher. "And now, -where is it?" - -"I tell you I gave it you! It is this bleak country that has warped -your brain. Never did the box leave my hands until I gave it into -yours!" - -"And I say you did not! _Saperlipopette_, am I a fool that I should -forget? Now listen to what you have done! You have lost the stockings -of Monsieur! By your incalculable stupidity, the stupidity of a pig, an -ass--" - -"_Sacre nom de Dieu!_ Am I to be disturbed by your shrieking?" Philip -had flung down the haresfoot. He slewed round in his chair. "Shut the -door! Is it that you wish to annoy my uncle that you shout and scream -in his house?" His voice was thunderous. - -Francois spread out his hands. - -"M'sieur, I ask pardon! It is this _ane_, this careless _gaillard_--" - -"_Mais, m'sieur!_" protested Jacques. "It is unjust; it is false!" - -"_Ecoutez donc, m'sieur!_" begged Francois, as the stern grey eyes went -from his face to that of the unhappy Jacques. "It is the band-box that -contains your stockings--the stockings _aux oiseaux-mouches_! Ah, would -that I had carried it myself! Would that--" - -"Would that you would be quiet!" said Philip severely. "If either of -you have lost those stockings ..." He paused, and once more his eyes -travelled from one to the other. "I shall seek another valet." - -Francois became tearful. - -"Ah, no, no, m'sieur! It is this _imbecile_, this _crapaud_--" - -"_M'sieu, je vous implore_--" - -Philip pointed dramatically across the room. Both men looked fearfully -in the direction of that accusing finger. - -"Ah!" Francois darted forward. "_La voila!_ What did I say?" He clasped -the box to his breast. "What did I say?" - -"But it is not so!" cried Jacques. "What did you say? You said you had -not seen the box! What did _I_ say? I said--" - -"Enough!" commanded Philip. "I will not endure this bickering! Be -quiet, Francois! Little monkey that you are!" - -"_M'sieur!_" Francois was hurt. His sharp little face fell into lines -of misery. - -"Little monkey," continued Philip inexorably, "with more thought for -your chattering than for my welfare." - -"Ah, no, no, m'sieur! I swear it is not so! By the--" - -"I do not want your oaths," said Philip cruelly. "Am I to wait all -night for my cravat, while you revile the good Jacques?" - -Francois cast the box from him. - -"Ah, _miserable_! The cravat! _Malheureux_, get thee gone!" He waved -agitated hands at Jacques. "You hinder me! You retard me! You upset -Monsieur! _Va-t-en!_" - -Jacques obeyed meekly, and Philip turned back to the mirror. To him -came Francois, wreathed once more in smiles. - -"He means well, _ce bon Jacques_," he said, busy with the cravat. "But -he is _sot_, you understand, _tres sot_!" He pushed Philip's chin up -with a gentle hand. "He annoys m'sieur, _ah oui_! But he is a good -_garcon_, when all is said." - -"It is you who annoy me," answered Philip. "Not so tight, not so tight! -Do you wish to choke me?" - -"_Pardon_, m'sieur! No, it is not Francois who annoys you! _Ah, mille -fois non!_ Francois--perhaps he is a little monkey, if m'sieur says -so, but he is a very good valet, _n'est-ce pas_? A monkey, if m'sieur -pleases, but very clever with a cravat. M'sieur has said it himself." - -"You are a child," said Philip. "Yes, that is very fair." He studied -his reflection. "I am pleased with it." - -"Aha!" Francois clasped his hands delightedly. "M'sieur is no longer -enraged! _Voyons_, I go to fetch the vest of m'sieur!" - -Presently, kneeling before his master and adjusting his stockings, he -volunteered another piece of information. - -"Me, I have been in this country before. I understand well the ways of -it. I understand the English, oh, _de part en part_! I know them for -a foolish race, _en somme_--saving always m'sieur, who is more French -than English--but never, never have I had the misfortune to meet so -terrible an Englishman as this servant of m'sieur's uncle, this Moggat. -_Si entete, si impoli!_ He looks on me with a suspicion! I cannot tell -m'sieur of his so churlish demeanour! He thinks, perhaps, that I go to -take his fine coat. Bah! I spit upon it! I speak to him as m'sieur has -bid me--_tres doucement_. He pretends he cannot understand what it is I -say! Me, who speak English _aussi bien que le Francais_! Deign to enter -into these shoes, m'sieur! I tell him I hold him in contempt! He makes -a _reniflement_ in his nose, and he mutters 'damned leetle frog-eater!' -_Grand Dieu_, I could have boxed his ears, the impudent!" - -"I hope you did not?" said Philip anxiously. - -"Ah, bah! Would I so demean myself, m'sieur? It is I who am of a -peaceable nature, _n'est-ce pas_? But Jacques--_voyons, c'est autre -chose_! He is possessed of the hot temper, _ce pauvre_ Jacques. I fear -for that Moggat if he enrages our Jacques." He shook his head solemnly, -and picked up the grey satin coat. "If m'sieur would find it convenient -to rise? Ah, _bien_!" He coaxed Philip into the coat, bit by bit. "I -say to you, m'sieur, I am consumed of an anxiety. Jacques, he is a -veritable fire-eater when he is roused, not like me, who am always -_doux comme un enfant_. I think, perhaps, he will refuse to remain in -the house with this pig of a Moggat." - -Philip shook out his ruffles. - -"I have never noticed that Jacques showed signs of a so violent -temper," he remarked. - -"But no! Of a surety, he would not exhibit his terrible passion to -m'sieur! Is it that I should permit him?" - -"Well," Philip slipped a ring on to his finger, "I am sorry for -Jacques, but he must be patient. Soon I shall go to a house of my own." - -Francois' face cleared as if by magic. - -"M'sieur is kind! A house of his own. _Je me rangerai bien!_ M'sieur -contemplates a _mariage_, perhaps?" - -Philip dropped his snuff-box. - -"_Que diable--?_" he began, and checked himself. "Mind your own -business, Francois!" - -"_Ah, pardon, m'sieur!_" replied the irrepressible Francois. "I but -thought that m'sieur had the desire to wed, that he should return to -England so hurriedly!" - -"Hold your tongue!" said Philip sharply. "Understand me, Francois, -I'll have no meddling _bavardage_ about me either to my face or below -stairs! _C'est entendu?_" - -"But yes, m'sieur," said Francois, abashed. "It is that my tongue runs -away with me." - -"You'd best keep a guard over it," answered Philip curtly. - -"Yes, m'sieur!" Meekly he handed Philip his cane and handkerchief. -Then, as his master still frowned, "M'sieur is still enraged?" he -ventured. - -Philip glanced down at him. At the sight of Francois' anxious, naive -expression, the frown faded, and he laughed. - -"You are quite ridiculous," he said. - -Francois broke into responsive smiles at once. - - * * * * * - -But when Philip had rustled away to join his uncle, the little valet -nodded shrewdly to himself and clicked his tongue against the roof of -his mouth. - -"_En verite, c'est une femme_," he remarked. "_C'est ce que j'ai cru._" - - - - - Twelve - - Philip Plays a Dangerous Game - - -Francois endured the detestable Moggat for a week. He was then rewarded -for his patience by the news that Philip was shortly to move into a -small house in Curzon Street, which belonged to a friend of Tom. This -gentleman consented to let his house for the space of two months, as he -was going abroad for that time. Philip went to inspect the prospective -abode, and found it to be furnished in excellent style. He closed with -its owner and went back to Half-Moon Street to break the joyful news to -Francois. From that moment the excitable valet's spirits soared high. -He would manage the affairs of the house for M'sieur; he would find -M'sieur a _chef_. Philip was content to waive responsibility. Francois -sallied forth with the air of one about to conquer, to find, so he told -Philip, the son of his aunt, a very fair _chef_ and a good _garcon_. -Philip had no idea that Francois possessed any relations, much less -one in London. When he said this, Francois looked very waggish, and -admitted that he himself had forgotten the existence of this cousin -until the moment when M'sieur told him of the new home. - -"Then, _subitement_, I remember, for m'sieur will require a _chef_ is -it not so?" - -"Assuredly," said Philip. "But your cousin may not wish to take service -with me, in which case I shall seek an English cook." - -"An English cook? Ah, bah! Is it that I would permit m'sieur to be so -ill served? No! M'sieur shall have a French _chef, bien sur_. What does -an Englishman know of the _cuisine_? Is m'sieur to be insulted by the -tasteless, watery vegetables of such as the wife of Moggat? No! I go to -find my cousin!" - -"Very well," said Philip. - -"And then we have a household _bien tenu_. It is our poor Jacques who -could not support an Englishman in the house." - -"I hope I am not to be excluded?" smiled Philip. - -"_M'sieur se moque de moi!_ Is it that m'sieur is English? M'sieur is -_tout comme un Francais_." He bustled away, full of importance. - -The cousin was forthcoming, a stout, good-tempered soul, who rejoiced -in the name of Marie-Guillaume. Francois exhibited him with pride, -and he was engaged. That ended all Philip's responsibility. Francois -gathered up the reins of government, and in a week they were installed -in Curzon Street. Philip had done no more than say that he wished to -enter his new abode on Thursday. On Thursday he went out to Ranelagh; -when he returned to Half-Moon Street he found that his baggage had -gone. He took his leave of Tom, and walked up the road and round the -corner, into Curzon Street. His house was as neat as a new pin; his -baggage was unpacked; Francois was complacent. They might have lived in -the house for months; there was no disorder, no fuss, none of the slow -settling down. Francois, Jacques and Marie-Guillaume had fitted into -their respective niches in one short hour. Philip was moved to inform -Francois that he was a treasure. - -That evening he went to a ball given by the Duchess of Queensberry. And -there he met Cleone, for the first time since his return to England. - -The Duchess welcomed him effusively, for already Philip was a _persona -grata_ in Society, and much sought after by hostesses. Tom had lost -no time in introducing him to the Fashionable World. The ladies were -captivated by his French air, and ogled him shamelessly. Then men found -that he was, for all his graces, singularly modest and unaffected at -heart, and they extended the hand of friendship towards him. People -began to look for him, and to be disappointed if he were absent. - -Until now, however, Philip had seen nothing of Cleone, but on all sides -he had heard of her. She was, he learned, London's newest beauty. - - * * * * * - -She was dancing when Philip saw her first, smiling up at her partner -with blue eyes that seemed bluer than ever, and lips that lay in a -happy curve. Her golden hair was unpowdered and piled in curls upon the -top of her head. Philip thought she was more beautiful than ever. - -He stood apart, watching her. She had not seen him; she was not even -thinking of him; those eyes were clear and joyous. Who was her partner? -Brainless-looking fool! Simpering ninny! Ay, that was all she cared -for! Philip's hand clenched slowly on his snuff-box. - -"Aha, Jettan! You have espied the lovely Cleone?" - -Philip turned. Lord Charles Fairfax stood at his elbow. - -"Yes," he said. - -"But how stern and forbidding!" exclaimed Fairfax. "What ails you?" - -Philip's mouth lost its hard line. - -"I am struck dumb," he answered gaily. "Can you wonder at it?" - -"So are we all. She is very beautiful, is she not?" - -"Ravishing!" agreed Philip. He saw Cleone's partner lead her to a -chair. "Will you present me?" - -"What! And destroy my own chances? We have heard of your killing ways -with the fair sex!" - -"I protest I have been maligned!" cried Philip. "I do implore your -mercy! Present me!" - -"Against my will, then!" said his lordship roguishly. He walked forward -to where Cleone sat. - -"Mistress Cleone, have you no smile for the humblest of your admirers?" - -Cleone turned her head. - -"Oh, Lord Charles! Give you good even, sir! Do you know you have not -been near me the whole evening? I am monstrous hurt, I assure you!" - -"Dear lady, how was I to come near you?" protested Fairfax. "Until this -moment you have been surrounded." - -Cleone gave a happy little laugh. - -"I am sure 'tis untrue, sir! You delight in teasing me!" Her eyes -wandered past him to Philip. - -Fairfax drew him forward. - -"Mistress Cleone, may I present one who is newly come from Paris, and -is, he swears, struck dumb by your beauty? Mr. Jettan, of whom we all -know some naughty tales!" - -The colour drained from Cleone's cheeks. She felt faint all at once, -and her fingers gripped together over her fan. For one moment she -thought she must be mistaken. This was not Philip, this foppish -gentleman who stood bowing so profoundly! Heavens, he was speaking! It -_was_ Philip! How could she mistake that square chin? - -"Mademoiselle, this is a scarce-hoped-for honour," he said. "I have -watched and I have hungered. Lord Charles took pity on me, for which I -shall never cease to thank him." - -Cleone tried to answer, and failed. Dazedly she stared at him, from -the powdered curls of his wig to the diamond buckles on his shoes. -Philip! _Philip!_ Philip in stiff silks and laces! Philip patched and -painted! Philip with jewels scattered about his person, and polished -nails! Was she dreaming? This foppish gentleman her blunt Philip? It -was incredible, impossible! What was he saying now? - -"I little thought to find you here, mademoiselle! You are with Madame -Charteris, no doubt?" - -Cleone collected her scattered wits. An awful numbness was stealing -over her. - -"No, I--I am with my aunt, Lady Malmerstoke," she answered. - -"Lady Malmerstoke?..." Philip raised his quizzing-glass with one -delicate white hand, and through it scanned the room. "Ah yes, the lady -in the apple-green toilette! I remember her well, that lady." - -"Oh--do you--do you know her?" asked Cleone. She could not drag her -eyes from his face. - -"I had the felicity of meeting her some nights ago. I forget where." - -"R--really?" Cleone decided that this was a nightmare. - -Philip sat down beside her. - -"You have been long in town, mademoiselle? You find all this very -fatiguing, no doubt?" He waved a languid hand. - -Indignation was dispersing the numbness. How dared Philip drawl at her -like this? How dared he behave as though they were strangers? - -"I have been in London nigh on a month. I do not find it fatiguing at -all. I enjoy it." - -Slowly the straight brows rose. - -"But how refreshing!" said Philip. "When everyone is _ennuye_ a -_l'agonie_, how delightful to meet one who frankly enjoys." He looked -at her admiringly. "And enjoyment becomes you better than boredom -becomes other women." - -Cleone felt that she was drifting further and further into the -nightmare. - -"I am happy to find favour in your eyes, sir. When did you return from -Paris?" - -"A fortnight since. In a fog which chilled me to the marrow. Almost I -fled back to France. But now"--he bowed gracefully--"I thank a kindly -Fate which forbade me to retreat thus precipitately." - -"Indeed?" said Cleone tartly. "How do you find Sir Maurice?" - -"As yet I have not found him," replied Philip. There was a laugh at the -back of his eyes. How dared he laugh at her? "I have written to beg him -to honour my house with his presence." - -"You do not propose to go to him?" Cleone's voice trembled. - -Philip started. - -"Mademoiselle speaks _en plaisantant_? The country in this weather?" He -shuddered. - -"I see," said Cleone, and thought that she spoke the truth. Her foot -tapped the ground angrily. Philip eyed it through his glass. - -"That little foot ..." he said softly. It was withdrawn. "Ah, cruel! It -inspired me with--I think--a madrigal. Cased in silver satin.... Ah!" - -"It pleases you to make merry of my foot, sir?" - -"_Jamais de ma vie!_" Philip threw out his hands. "It is neither food -for merriment nor sighs. It is food for pure joy. My eye, _chere -mademoiselle_, is susceptible to beauty, be it beauty of face, or -beauty of foot; the eye whispers to the brain, and a madrigal blossoms. -I dare swear you have listened to an hundred such? Everywhere I have -heard tell of your conquests until I am nigh dead with jealousy." - -"How very absurd!" tittered Cleone. - -"Absurd? Ah, if I could think that!" - -"I do not understand you, sir!" - -"I can only beg that I, too, may worship at those little feet." - -"Mr. Jettan, I can only beg that you will cease to make yourself -ridiculous." - -"If it is ridiculous to adore, then must I refuse to obey you, fairest. -For the sake of one smile, all would I do, save that which is without -my power." - -Cleone's eyes glittered. - -"You have become very adept at flattery, sir." - -"But no! Flattery shall never be among my accomplishments, even were it -necessary, which here"--he smiled ardently--"it most assuredly is not." - -"You surprise me, sir! I thought Paris to be the home of flattery." - -"_On l'a diffamee._ Paris teaches appreciation." - -"La!" Cleone, too, could be affected. "You go too deep for me, Mr. -Jettan! I fear I am no match for your wit. I am but newly come from the -country." The words bit. - -"It is almost inconceivable," he said, studying her with the air of a -connoisseur. - -"Almost as inconceivable as the fact that little more than six months -ago you despised all this!" She made a gesture with her fan towards his -shimmering coat. - -"Was it only six months? It seems to belong to another life. You -remember so well, mademoiselle." - -"I?" Cleone saw her mistake, and made haste to cover it. "No, sir. It -is dear Sir Maurice who remembers." Her eyes sought his face for some -change of expression. But not an eyelash flickered; Mr. Jettan was -still smiling. - -"Now I am desolated!" he sighed. "Mademoiselle Cleone does not remember -the manner of my going? But I see that it is so. She is blessed with -forgetfulness." - -Cleone's heart leaped. Was there a note of _pique_, of hurt, in the -smooth voice? - -"My memory is not of the longest either, mademoiselle, but I am sure -that I am indebted to you." - -"Really? I think you must be mistaken, sir." - -"It is possible," he bowed. "Yet I seem to recollect that 'twas you who -bade me go--to learn to be a gentleman." - -Cleone laughed carelessly. - -"Did I?--It is so long ago, I have forgotten. And--and here is Mr. -Winton come to claim me!" - -Philip glanced round quickly. Young James Winton was threading his way -towards them. Philip sprang up. - -"James!" He held out his hands to the puzzled youth. "You have -forgotten, James? And it is, so Mademoiselle tells me, but six months -since I saw you every day." - -Winton stared. Then suddenly he grasped Philip's jewelled hand. - -"Jettan--Philip! Merciful heavens, man, is it indeed you?" - -"He is quite transformed, is he not?" said Cleone lightly. A little -barb was piercing her heart that Philip should show such pleasure at -seeing James, and merely bored affectation with her. - -Philip's gay laugh rang out. - -"I shall write a sonnet in melancholy vein," he promised. "A sonnet to -"Friends Who Knew Me Not." It will be a _chef-d'[oe]uvre_, and I shall -send it you tied with a sprig of myrtle." - -Winton stepped back the better to observe him. - -"Thunder and turf, tis marvellous! What's this about a sonnet? Don't -tell me ye have turned poet!" - -"In Paris they do not love my verses," mourned Philip. "They would say, -'No, _le petit Philippe se trompe_.' But you shall see! Where are you -staying?" - -"With Darchit--in Jermyn Street. I came to London in my lady's train." -He bowed to Cleone. - -Philip's eyes narrowed. - -"Aha! James, you will come to a card-party that I am giving to-morrow? -I am at 14 Curzon Street." - -"Thank you very much, I shall be delighted. Have you set up a house of -your own?" - -"Sir Humphrey Grandcourt has hired his house to me for a month or so. -My _menage_ will amuse you. I am ruled by my valet, the redoubtable -Francois." - -"A French valet!" - -"But yes! He would allow no English servant to insult me with his -boorishness, so I have his cousin for _chef_." He threw a laughing -glance at Cleone. "You would smile, Mademoiselle, could you but hear -his so fierce denunciation of the English race." - -Cleone forced a laugh. - -"I suppose he does not regard you as English, Mr. Jettan?" - -"If I suggest such a thing he accuses me of mocking him. Ah, there is -Miss Florence who beckons me! Mademoiselle will excuse me?" He bowed -with a great flourish. "I shall hope to be allowed to wait on madame, -your aunt. James, do not forget! To-morrow at 14 Curzon Street!" He -swept round on his heel and went quickly to where Mistress Florence -Farmer was seated. Cleone watched him kiss the lady's plump hand, and -saw the ogling glances that Florence sent him. Desperately she sought -to swallow the lump in her throat. She started to flirt with the -adoring James. Out of the corner of his eye Philip watched her. - - * * * * * - -Scalding tears dropped on to Cleone's pillow that night. Philip had -returned, indifferent, _blase_, even scornful! Philip who had once -loved her so dearly, Philip who had once been so strong and masterful, -was now a dainty, affected Court gallant. Why, why had she sent him -away? And, oh, how dared he treat her with that mocking admiration? -Suddenly Cleone sat up. - -"I hate him!" she told the bed-post. "I hate him, and hate him, and -hate him." - - * * * * * - -Philip was smiling when Francois disrobed him, a smile that held much -of tenderness. - -"_Cela marche_," decided Francois. "I go to have a mistress." - - - - - Thirteen - - Sir Maurice Comes to Town - - -A tall gentleman rang the bell of Mr. Thomas Jettan's house with some -vigour. The door was presently opened by the depressed Moggat. - -"Where's your master, Moggat?" demanded the visitor abruptly. - -Moggat held the door wide. - -"In the library, sir. Will you step inside?" - -Sir Maurice swept in. He gave his cloak and hat to Moggat and walked -to the library door. Moggat watched him somewhat fearfully. It was not -often that Sir Maurice showed signs of perturbation. - -"By the way--" Sir Maurice paused, looking back. "My baggage follows -me." - -"Very good, sir." - -Sir Maurice opened the door and disappeared. - - * * * * * - -Thomas was seated at his desk, but at the sound of the opening door he -turned. - -"Why, Maurry!" He sprang up. "Gad, this is a surprise! How are ye, -lad?" He wrung his brother's hand. - -Sir Maurice flung a sheet of paper on to the table. - -"What the devil's the meaning of _that_?" he demanded. - -"Why the heat?" asked the surprised Thomas. - -"Read that--that impertinence!" ordered Sir Maurice. - -Tom picked up the paper and spread it open. At sight of the writing he -smiled. - -"Oh, Philip!" he remarked. - -"Philip? Philip write me that letter? It's no more Philip than--than a -cock-robin!" - -Tom sat down. - -"Oh, yes it is!" he said. "I recognise his hand. Now don't tramp up -and down like that, Maurry! Sit down!" He glanced down the sheet and -smothered a laugh. - -"'My very dear Papa,'" he read aloud. "'I do trust that you are -enjoying your Customary Good Health and that these fogs and bitter -winds have not permeated so far as to Little Fittledean. As you will -observe by the above written address, I have returned to this most -barbarous land. For how long I shall allow myself to be persuaded to -remain I cannot tell you, but after the affinity of Paris and the charm -of the Parisians, London is quite insupportable. But for the present -I remain, _malgre tout_. You will forgive me, I know, that I do not -come to visit you at the Pride. The mere thought of the country at this -season fills me with incalculable dismay. So I suggest, dear Father, -that you honour me by enlivening with your presence this house that I -have acquired from Sir Humphrey Grandcourt. Some small entertainment I -can promise you, and my friends assure me that the culinary efforts of -my _chef_ are beyond compare. An exaggeration, believe me, which one -who has tasted the wonders of a Paris _cuisine_ will easily descry. -I have to convey to you the compliments of M. de Chateau-Banvau and -others. I would write more but that I am in labour with an ode. -Believe me, Dear Father, thy most devoted, humble, and obedient -son,--PHILIPPE.'" Tom folded the paper. "Very proper," he -remarked. "What's amiss?" - -Sir Maurice had stalked to the window. Now he turned. - -"What's amiss? Everything's amiss! That Philip--my son Philip!--should -write me a--an impertinent letter like that! It's--it's monstrous!" - -"For God's sake, sit down, Maurry! You're as bad as Philip himself for -restlessness! Now I take this as a very dutiful, filial letter." - -"Dutiful be damned!" snorted Sir Maurice. "Has the boy no other -feelings than he shows in that letter? Why did he not come down to see -me?" - -Tom re-opened the letter. - -"The mere thought of the country at this season appalled him. What's -wrong with that? You have said the same." - -"I? I? What matters it what I should have said? I thought Philip cared -for me! He trusts I will enliven his house with my presence! I'm more -like to break my stick across his back!" - -"Not a whit," said Tom, cheerfully. "You sent Philip away to acquire -polish, and I don't know what besides. He has obeyed you. Is it likely -that, being what he now is, he'll fly back to the country? What's the -matter with you, Maurice? Are you grumbling because he has obeyed your -behests?" - -Sir Maurice sank on to the couch. - -"If you but knew how I have missed him and longed for him," he began, -and checked himself. "I am well served," he said bitterly. "I should -have been content to have him as he was." - -"So I thought at the time, but I've changed my opinion." - -"I cannot bear to think of Philip as being callous, flippant, and--a -mere fop!" - -"'Twould be your own fault if he were," said Tom severely. "But he's -not. Something inside him has blossomed forth. Philip is now pure joy." - -Sir Maurice grunted. - -"It's true, lad. That letter--oh, ay! He's a young rascal, but 'twas -to avenge his injured feelings, I take it. He was devilish hurt when -you and Cleone sent him away betwixt you. He's still hurt that you -should have done it. I can't fathom the workings of his mind, but he -assures me they are very complex. He is glad that you sent him, but he -wants you to be sorry. Or rather, Cleone. The lad is very forgiving -to you"--Tom laughed--"but that letter is a piece of devilry--he has -plenty of it, I warn you! He hoped you'd be as angry as you are and -wish your work undone. There's no lack of affection." - -Sir Maurice looked up. - -"He's--the same Philip?" - -"Never think it! In a way he's the same, but there's more of him--ay, -and a score of affectations. In about ten minutes"--he glanced at the -clock--"he'll be here. So you'll see for yourself." - -Sir Maurice straightened himself. He sighed. - -"An old fool, eh, Tom? But it cut me to the quick, that letter." - -"Of course it did, the young devil! Oh, Maurry, Maurry, ye never saw -the like of our Philip!" - -"Is he so remarkable? I heard about that absurd duel, as I told you. -There'll be a reckoning between him and Cleone." - -"Ay. That's what I don't understand. The pair of them are playing -a queer game. Old Sally Malmerstoke told me that Cleone vows she -hates Philip. The chit is flirting outrageously with every man who -comes--always under Philip's nose. And Philip laughs. Yet I'll swear -he means to have her. I don't interfere. They must work out their own -quarrel." - -"Clo doesn't hate Philip," said Sir Maurice. "She was pining for him -until that fool Bancroft read us Satterthwaite's letter. Was it true -that Philip fought over some French hussy?" - -"No, over Clo herself. But he says naught, and if the truth were told, -I believe it's because he has had _affaires_ in Paris, even if that was -not one. He's too dangerously popular." - -"So it seemed from Satterthwaite's account. Is he so popular? I cannot -understand it." - -"He's novel, y'see. I'd a letter from Chateau-Banvau the other day, -mourning the loss of _ce cher petit_ Philippe, and demanding whether he -had found his heart or no!" - -Sir Maurice drove his cane downwards. - -"By Gad, if Philip's so great a success, it's--it's more than ever I -expected," he ended lamely. - -"Wait till you see him!" smiled Thomas. "The boy's for all the world -like a bit o' quicksilver. He splutters out French almost every time he -opens his mouth, and--here he is!" - -A door banged loudly outside, and a clear, crisp voice floated into the -library from the hall. - -"_Mordieu_, what a climate! Moggat, you rogue, am I not depressed -enough without your glum face to make me more so? Smile, _vieux -cretin_, for the love of God!" - -"Were I to call Moggat one-half of the names Philip bestows on him, -he'd leave me," remarked Tom. "With him, Philip can do no wrong. Now -what's to do?" - -"_Doucement, malheureux!_ Gently, I say! Do you wish to pull my arms -off with the coat? _Ah, voila!_ Spread it to dry, Moggat, and take care -not to crease it. Yes, that is well!" - -Then came Moggat's voice, very self-conscious. - -"_C'est comme moosoo desire?_" - -There was a sound of hand-clapping, and an amused laugh. - -"_Voyons, c'est fameux!_ Quite the French scholar, eh, Moggat? Where's -my uncle? In the library?" - -Came a quick step across the hall. Philip swirled into the room. - -"Much have I borne in silence, Tom, but this rain--" He broke off. The -next moment he was on one knee before his father, Sir Maurice's thin -hands pressed to his lips. "Father!" - -Tom coughed and walked to the window. - -Sir Maurice drew his hands away. He took Philip's chin in his long -fingers and forced his head up. Silently he scrutinised his son's face. -Then he smiled. - -"You patched and painted puppy-dog," he mimicked softly. - -Philip laughed. His hands found Sir Maurice's again and gripped hard. - -"Alack, too true! Father, you're looking older." - -"Impudent young scapegrace! What would you? I have but one son." - -"And you missed him?" - -"A little," acknowledged Sir Maurice. - -Philip rose to his feet. - -"Ah, but I am glad! And you are sorry you sent him away?" - -"Not now. But when I received this--very." Sir Maurice held out the -sheet of paper. - -"That! Bah!" Philip sent it whirling into the fire. "For that I -apologise. If you had not been hurt--oh, heaven knows what I should -have done! Where is your baggage, Father?" - -"Here by now." - -"Here? But no, no! It must go to Curzon Street!" - -"My dear son, I thank you very much, but an old man is better with an -old man." - -Tom wheeled round. - -"What's that? Who are you calling an old man, Maurry? I'm as young as -ever I was!" - -"In any case, it is to Curzon Street that you come, Father." - -"As often as you wish, dear boy, but I'll stay with Tom." Then, as -Philip prepared to argue the point, "No, Philip, my mind is made up. -Sit down and tell me the tale of your ridiculous duel with Bancroft." - -"Oh, that!" Philip laughed. "It was amusing, but scandalous. My -sympathies were with my adversary." - -"And what was the ode you threatened to read?" - -"An ode to importunate friends, especially composed for the occasion. -They took it from me--Paul and Louis--oh, and Henri de Chatelin! They -do not like my verse." - -Sir Maurice lay back in his seat and laughed till the tears ran down -his cheeks. - -"Gad, Philip, but I wish I'd been there! To hear you declaim an ode -of your own making! Faith, is it really my blunt, brusque, impossible -Philip?" - -"Not at all! It is your elegant, smooth, and wholly possible Philip!" - -Sir Maurice sat up again. - -"Ah! And does this Philip contemplate marriage?" - -"That," said his son, "is on the knees of the gods." - -"I see. Is it woe unto him who seeks to interfere?" - -"_Parfaitement!_" bowed Philip. "I play now--a little game." - -"And Cleone?" - -"Cleone ... I don't know. It is what I wish to find out. Lady -Malmerstoke stands my friend." - -"Trust Sally," said Tom. - -Philip's eyes sparkled. - -"Ah, Tom, Tom, art a rogue! Father, he is in love with her ladyship!" - -"He always has been," answered Sir Maurice. "Even before old -Malmerstoke died." - -Tom cleared his throat. - -"I--" - -"Then why do you not wed her?" demanded Philip. - -"She would not. Now she says--perhaps. We are very good friends," he -added contentedly. "I doubt neither of us is at the age when one loves -with heat." - -"Philip, how do you like Paris?" interrupted Sir Maurice. - -"I cannot tell you, sir! My feeling for Paris and my Paris friends is -beyond all words." - -"Ay. I thought the same. But in the end one is glad to come home." - -"May it please heaven, then, to make the end far, far away," said -Philip. "When I go back, you will go with me, Father." - -"Ah, I am too old for that now," answered Sir Maurice. He smiled -reminiscently. - -"Too old? _Quelle absurdite!_ M. de Chateau-Banvau has made me swear to -bring you. M. de Richelieu asked when he was to see your face again. A -score--" - -"De Richelieu? Where did you meet him, boy?" - -"At Versailles. He was very kind to me for your sake." - -"Ay, he would be. So you went to Versailles, then!" - -"Often." - -"Philip, I begin to think you are somewhat of a rake. What attracted -you to Versailles?" - -"Many things," parried Philip. - -"Female things?" - -"What curiosity! Sometimes, yes, but not _au serieux_." - -"Little Philip without a heart, eh?" - -"Who told you that?" Philip leaned forward. - -"Satterthwaite wrote it, or something like it." - -"_Le petit_ Philippe au _C[oe]ur Perdu_. Most of them would give their -eyes to know who the fair unknown may be!" - -"Is it still Cleone?" Sir Maurice looked sharply across at him. - -"It has--never been anyone else," answered Philip simply. - -"I am glad. I want you to marry her, Philip." - -"Sir," said Philip superbly, "I have every intention of so doing." - - - - - Fourteen - - The Strange Behaviour of Mistress Cleone - - -"Francois, there is one below who desires m'sieu." - -Francois shook out a fine lace ruffle. - -"_Qui est-ce?_" - -"_Le pere de M'sieur_," answered Jacques gloomily. - -Francois cast the ruffle aside. - -"_Le pere de M'sieur!_ I go at once." He vanished out of the door and -scuttled downstairs to the library. Sir Maurice was startled by his -sudden entrance, and raised his eyeglass the better to observe this -very abrupt, diminutive creature. - -Francois bowed very low. - -"M'sieu, eet ees zat my mastaire 'e ees wiz hees _barbier_. Eef m'sieu -would come up to ze chamber of my mastaire?" - -Sir Maurice smiled. - -"_Assurement. Vous allez marcher en tete?_" - -Francois' face broke into a delighted smile. - -"_Ah, m'sieur parle Francais! Si m'sieur veut me suivre?_" - -"_M'sieur veut bien_," nodded Sir Maurice. He followed Francois -upstairs to Philip's luxurious bedroom. Francois put forward a chair. - -"M'sieur will be graciously pleased to seat himself? M'sieur Philippe -will come very soon. It is the visit of the barber, you understand." - -"A serious matter," agreed Sir Maurice. - -"M'sieur understands well. Me, I am valet of M'sieur Philippe." - -"I had guessed it. You are Francois?" - -"Yes, m'sieur. It is perhaps that M'sieur Philippe has spoken of me?" -He looked anxiously at Sir Maurice. - -"Certainly he has spoken of you," smiled Sir Maurice. - -"It is perhaps--that he tell you I am _un petit singe_?" - -"No, he said no such thing," answered Sir Maurice gravely. "He told me -he possessed a veritable treasure for a valet." - -"Ah!" Francois clapped his hands. "It is true, m'sieur. I am a very -good valet--oh, but very good!" He skipped to the bed and picked up an -embroidered satin vest. This he laid over a chair-back. - -"The vest of M'sieur Philippe," he said reverently. - -"So I see," said Sir Maurice. "What's he doing, lying abed so late?" - -"_Ah, non, m'sieur!_ He does not lie abed late! Oh, but never, never. -It is that the barber is here, and the tailor--imbeciles, both! They -put M'sieur Philippe in a bad humour with their so terrible stupidity. -He spends an hour explaining what it is that he wishes." Francois cast -up his eyes. "And they do not understand, no! They are of so great a -density! M'sieur Philippe he become much enraged, naturally." - -"Monsieur Philippe is very particular, eh?" - -Francois beamed. He was opening various pots in readiness for his -master. - -"Yes, m'sieur. M'sieur Philippe must have everything just as he likes -it." - -At that moment Philip walked in, wrapped in a gorgeous silk robe, and -looking thunderous. When he saw his father his brow cleared. - -"You, sir? Have you waited long?" - -"No, only ten minutes or so. Have you strangled the tailor?" - -Philip laughed. - -"_De pres! Francois_, I will be alone with M'sieur." - -Francois bowed. He went out with his usual hurried gait. - -Philip sat down before his dressing-table. - -"What do you think of the incomparable Francois?" he asked. - -"He startled me at first," smiled Sir Maurice. "A droll little -creature." - -"But quite inimitable. You're out early this morning, sir?" - -"My dear Philip, it is close on noon! I have been to see Cleone." - -Philip picked up a nail-polisher and passed it gently across his -fingers. - -"Ah?" - -"Philip, I am worried." - -"Yes?" Philip was intent on his nails. "And why?" - -"I don't understand the child! I could have sworn she was dying for you -to return!" - -Philip glanced up quickly. - -"That is true?" - -"I thought so. At home--yes, I am certain of it! But now she seems -a changed being." He frowned, looking at his son. Philip was again -occupied with his hands. "She is in excellent spirits; she tells me -that she enjoys every moment of every day. She was in ecstasies! I -spoke of you and she was quite indifferent. What have you done to make -her so, Philip?" - -"I do not quite know. I have become what she would have had me. To test -her, I aped the mincing extravagance of the typical town-gallant. She -was surprised at first, and then angry. That pleased me. I thought: -Cleone does not like the thing I am; she would prefer the real me. -Then I waited on Lady Malmerstoke. Cleone was there. She was, as you -say, quite changed. I suppose she was charming; it did not seem so to -me. She laughed and flirted with her fan; she encouraged me to praise -her beauty; she demanded the madrigal I had promised her. When I read -it she was delighted. She asked her aunt if I were not a dreadful, -flattering creature. Then came young Winton, who is, I take it, -_amoureux a en perdre la tete_. To him she was all smiles, behaving -like some Court miss. Since then she has always been the same. She is -kind to every man who comes her way, and to me. You say you do not -understand? Nor do I. She is not the Cleone I knew, and not the Cleone -I love. She makes herself as--Clothilde de Chaucheron. _Charmante, -spirituelle_, one to whom a man makes trifling love, but not the one a -man will wed." He spoke quietly, and with none of his usual sparkle. - -Sir Maurice leaned forward, striking his fist on his knee. - -"But she is not that type of woman, Philip! That's what I can't -understand!" - -Philip shrugged slightly. - -"She is not, you say? I wonder now whether that is so. She flirted -before, you remember, with Bancroft." - -"Ay! To tease you!" - -"_Cela se peut._ This time it is not to tease me. That I know." - -"But, Philip, if it is not for that, why does she do it?" - -"Presumably because she so wishes. It is possible that the adulation -she receives has flown to her head. It is almost as though she sought -to captivate me." - -"Cleone would never do such a thing!" - -"Well, sir, you will see. Come with us this afternoon. Tom and I are -bidden to take a dish of Bohea with her ladyship." - -"Sally has already asked me. I shall certainly come. _Mordieu_, what -ails the child?" - -Philip rubbed some rouge on to his cheeks. - -"If you can tell me the answer to that riddle, sir, I shall--thank you." - -"You do care, Philip? Still?" He watched Philip pick up the haresfoot -with fingers that trembled a little. - -"Care?" said Philip. "I--yes, sir. I care--greatly." - - * * * * * - -Lady Malmerstoke glanced critically at her niece. - -"You are very gay, Clo," she remarked. - -"Gay?" cried Cleone. "How could I be sober, Aunt Sally? I am enjoying -myself so much!" - -Lady Malmerstoke pushed a bracelet farther up one plump arm. - -"H'm!" she said. "It's very unfashionable, my dear, not to say -_bourgeois_." - -"Oh, fiddle!" answered Cleone. "Who thinks that?" - -"I really don't know. It is what one says. To be in the mode you must -be fatigued to death." - -"Then I am not in the mode," laughed Cleone. "Don't forget, Aunt, that -I am but a simple country-maid!" She swept a mock curtsey. - -"No," said her ladyship placidly. "One is not like to forget it." - -"What do you mean?" demanded Cleone. - -"Don't eat me," sighed her aunt. "'Tis your principal charm--freshness." - -"Oh!" said Cleone doubtfully. - -"Or it was," added Lady Malmerstoke, folding her hands and closing her -eyes. - -"Was! Aunt Sally, I insist that you tell me what it is you mean!" - -"My love, you know very well what I mean." - -"No, I do not! I--I--Aunt Sally, wake up!" - -Her ladyship's brown eyes opened. - -"Well, my dear, if you must have it, 'tis this--you make yourself cheap -by your flirtatious ways." - -Cleone's cheeks flamed. - -"I--oh, I don't f--flirt! I--Auntie, how can you say so?" - -"Quite easily," said her ladyship. "Else had I left it unsaid. Since -this Mr. Philip Jettan has returned you have acquired all the tricks of -the sex. I do not find it becoming in you, but mayhap I am wrong." - -"It has nothing to do with Ph--Mr. Jettan!" - -"I beg your pardon, my dear, I thought it had. But if you wish to -attract him--" - -"Aunt!" almost shrieked Cleone. - -"I wish you would not interrupt," complained Lady Malmerstoke wearily. -"I said if you wish to attract him you should employ less obvious -methods." - -"H--how _dare_ you, Aunt Sally! I wish to attract him? I hate him! I -hate the very sight of him!" - -The sleepy brown eyes grew more alert. - -"Is that the way the wind lies?" murmured Lady Malmerstoke. "What's he -done?" she added, ever practical. - -"He hasn't done anything. He--I--" - -"Then what hasn't he done?" - -"Aunt Sally--Aunt Sally--you--I won't answer! He--nothing at all! 'Tis -merely that I do not like him." - -"It's not apparent in your manner," remarked her ladyship. "Are you -determined that he shall fall in love with you?" - -"Of course I never thought of such a thing! I--why should I?" - -"For the pleasure of seeing him at your feet, and then kicking him -away. Revenge, my love, revenge." - -"How dare you say such things, Aunt! It--it isn't true!" - -Lady Malmerstoke continued to pursue her own line of thought. - -"From all I can see of this Philip, he's not the man to be beaten by a -chit of a girl. I think he is in love with you. Have a care, my dear. -Men with chins like his are not safe. I've had experience, and I know. -He'll win in the end, if he has a mind to do so." - -"Mind!" Cleone was scornful. "He has no mind above clothes or poems!" - -Lady Malmerstoke eyed her lazily. - -"Who told you that, Clo?" - -"No one. I can see for myself." - -"There is nothing blinder than a very young woman," philosophised her -ladyship. "One lives and one learns. Your Philip--" - -"He isn't my Philip!" cried Cleone, nearly in tears. - -"You put me out," complained her aunt. "Your Philip is no fool. He's -dangerous. On account of that chin, you understand. Don't have him, my -dear; he's one of your masterful men. They are the worst; old Jeremy -Fletcher was like that. Dear me, what years ago that was!" - -"He--he's no more masterful than--than his uncle!" - -"No, thank heaven, Tom's an easy-going creature," agreed her aunt. "A -pity Philip is not the same." - -"But I tell you he is! If--if he were more masterful I should like him -better! I like a man to be a man and not--a--a pranked-out doll!" - -"How you have changed!" sighed her aunt. "I thought that was just what -you did not want. Didn't you send your Philip away to become a beau?" - -"He is not my Philip--Aunt! I--no, of course I did--didn't. And if -I d-did, it was very st-stupid of me, and now I'd rather have a--a -masterful man." - -"Ay, we're all like that in our youth," nodded her aunt. "When you -grow older you'll appreciate the milder sort. I nearly married Jerry -Fletcher. Luckily I changed my mind and had Malmerstoke. God rest his -soul, poor fellow! Now I shall have Tom, I suppose." - -Cleone broke into a hysterical laugh. - -"Aunt, you are incorrigible! How can you talk so?" - -"Dreadful, isn't it? But I was always like that. Very attractive, -you know. I never was beautiful, but I made a great success. I quite -shocked my poor mother. But it was all a pose, of course. It made -me noticed. I was so amusing and novel--like you, my love, but in a -different way. All a pose." - -"Why, is it still a pose, Aunt?" - -"Oh, now it's a habit. So much less fatiguing, my dear. But to return -to what I was saying, you--" - -"Don't--don't let's talk--about me," begged Cleone unsteadily. -"I--hardly know what possesses me, but--Oh, there's the bell!" - -Lady Malmerstoke dragged herself up. - -"Already? Clo, is my wig on straight? Drat the men, I've not had a wink -of sleep the whole afternoon. A nice hag I shall look to-night. Which -of them is it, my dear?" - -Cleone was peering out of the window. - -"'Tis James and Jennifer, Aunt." She came back into the room. "It seems -an age since I saw Jenny." - -Lady Malmerstoke studied herself in her little mirror. - -"Is she the child who lives down in the country?" - -"Yes--Jenny Winton, such a sweet little thing. She has come up with Mr. -Winton for a few weeks. I am so glad she managed to induce him to bring -her!" Cleone ran forward as the two Wintons were ushered in. "Jenny, -dear!" - -Jennifer was half a head shorter than Cleone, a shy child with soft -grey eyes and mouse-coloured hair. She flung her arms round Cleone's -neck. - -"Oh, Clo, how prodigious elegant you look!" she whispered. - -"And oh, Jenny, how pretty you look!" retorted Cleone. "Aunt Sally, -this is my dear Jennifer!" - -Jennifer curtseyed. - -"How do you do, ma'am?" she said in a voice fluttering with nervousness. - -"I am very well, child. Come and sit down beside me." She patted the -couch invitingly. "Is this your first visit to town, my dear?" - -Jennifer sat down on the edge of the couch. She stole an awed glance at -Lady Malmerstoke's powdered wig. - -"Yes, ma'am. It is so exciting." - -"I'll warrant it is! And have you been to many balls, yet?" - -"N-no." The little face clouded over. "Papa does not go out very much," -she explained. - -Cleone sank on to a stool beside them, her silks swirling about her. - -"Oh, Auntie, please take Jenny to the Dering ball next week!" she said -impulsively. "You will come, won't you, sweet?" - -Jennifer blushed and stammered. - -"To be sure," nodded her ladyship. "Of course she will come! James, -sit down! You should know by now how the sight of anyone on their -feet fatigues me, silly boy! Dear me, child, how like you are to your -brother! Are you looking at my wig? Monstrous, isn't it?" - -Jennifer was covered with confusion. - -"Oh, no, ma'am, I--" - -Her ladyship chuckled. - -"Of course you were. How could you help it? Cleone tells me it is a -ridiculous creation, don't you, my love?" - -"I do, and I truly think it!" answered Cleone, her eyes dancing. "'Tis -just a little more impossible than the last." - -"There!" Lady Malmerstoke turned back to Jennifer. "She is an -impertinent hussy, is she not?" - -"Could she be impertinent?" asked James fondly. - -"Very easily she could, and is," nodded her ladyship. "A minx." - -"Oh!" Jennifer was shocked. - -"Don't attend to her!" besought Cleone. "Sometimes she is very -ill-natured, as you see." - -Jennifer ventured a very small laugh. She had resolutely dragged her -eyes from the prodigious wig, and was now gazing at Cleone. - -"You--you seem quite different," she told her. - -Cleone shook her golden head. - -"'Tis only that Aunt Sally has tricked me out in fine clothes," she -replied. "I'm--oh, I am the same!" she laughed, but not very steadily. -"Am I not, James?" - -"Always the same," he said ardently. "Always beautiful." - -"I will not have it," said Lady Malmerstoke severely. "You'll turn the -child's head, if 'tis not turned already." - -"Oh, it is, it is!" cried Cleone. "I am quite too dreadfully vain! And -there is the bell again! James, who is it? It's vastly bad-mannered to -peep, but you may do it. Quick!" - -James went to the window. - -"Too late," he said. "They are in, whoever they are." - -"'Twill be Thomas," decided Lady Malmerstoke. "I wonder if he is any -fatter?" - -Jennifer giggled. She had never met anything quite like this queer, -voluminous old lady before. - -"Is--is Sir Maurice coming?" she inquired. - -"I told him to be sure to come," answered her ladyship. "You know him, -don't you?" - -"Oh, yes!" breathed Jennifer. - -"Sah Maurice and Mr. Jettan," announced the little black page. - -"Drat!" said her ladyship. She rose. "Where's your son?" she demanded, -shaking her finger at Sir Maurice. - -Sir Maurice kissed her hand. - -"Sally, you grow ruder and ruder," he reproved her. - -"Maurice," she retorted, "you were ever a punctilious ramrod. Philip's -the only one of you I want to see. He says such audacious things," she -explained. "So gratifying to an old woman. Well, Tom?" - -Thomas bowed very low. - -"Well, Sally?" - -"That's not polite," she said. "You can see I am very well. I declare -you are growing thinner!" - -Thomas drew himself up sheepishly. - -"Am I, my dear?" - -Her ladyship gave a little crow of delight. - -"You've been taking exercise!" she exclaimed. "If you continue at this -rate--I vow I'll marry you in a month!" - -"I wish you would, my dear," said Tom seriously. - -"Oh, I shall one day, never fear!" She caught sight of Jennifer's -astonished expression and chuckled. "Now, Tom, behave yourself! You are -shocking the child!" she whispered. - -"I? What have I done? She's shocked at your forwardness!" - -Sir Maurice had walked over to Cleone. She held out her hands, and he -made as if to kiss them. She snatched them back. - -"Oh, no, no!" she cried. "Sir Maurice!" - -He smiled down at her upturned face. - -"In truth, my dear, you've so changed from the little Cleone I know -that I dare take no liberties." - -Her mouth quivered suddenly; she caught at the lapels of his coat. - -"No, no, don't say it, sir! I am the same! Oh, I am, I am!" - -"What's Cleone doing?" inquired Lady Malmerstoke. "Kissing Maurice? Now -who's forward?" - -Cleone smiled through her tears. - -"You are, Aunt Sally. And you are in a very teasing humour!" - -Sir Maurice pressed her hands gently. He turned to the curtseying -Jennifer. - -"Why, Jenny? This is a surprise! How are you, child?" - -"Very well, I thank you, sir," she answered. "Very happy to be in -London." - -"The first visit! Where are you staying?" - -"With Grandmamma, out at Kensington," she said. - -Lady Malmerstoke clutched Tom's arm. - -"Kensington, poor child!" she murmured. "For heaven's sake everyone sit -down! No, Maurice, that chair is too low for me. I'll take the couch." -She proceeded to do so. As a matter of course, Tom sat down beside -her. The others arranged themselves in two pairs, Sir Maurice leading -Jennifer to a chair near the fire, and Cleone going to the window-seat -with the admiring James. - -Five minutes later the bell rang for the third time, and Jennifer -received the worst shock of the afternoon. The page announced Mr. -Philip Jettan, and Philip came into the room. - -Sir Maurice felt Jennifer's start of surprise, and saw her stare past -him as though she saw at least three ghosts. - -Philip went to his hostess and dropped on one knee to kiss her hand. -He was dressed in puce and old gold. Jennifer thought she had never -seen anything so gorgeous, or so astonishing. She did not believe for a -moment that it was her old playfellow, Philip. - -"Madame, I am late!" said Philip. "I ask a thousand pardons." - -"And you are sure you'll receive them!" chuckled her ladyship. "I'd -give them, but that it would fatigue me so. Where's that ode? Don't -tell me you've forgotten it!" - -"Forgotten it! Never! It is a very beautiful ode, too, in my best -style. _Le voici!_" He handed her a rolled parchment sheet, tied with -mauve ribbons, and with violets cunningly inserted. - -"You delightful boy!" cried her ladyship, inspecting it. "Violets! How -did you know they were my favourite flowers?" - -"I knew instinctively," answered Philip solemnly. - -"Of course you did! But how charming of you! I declare I daren't untie -it till the violets are dead. Look, Tom, is it not pretty? And isn't -Philip sweet to write me an ode?" - -"I am looking," said Tom gloomily. "Ye rascal, how dare you try to -steal my lady's heart away from me?" - -"I should be more than human an I did not!" replied Philip promptly. - -Lady Malmerstoke was showing the dainty roll to Sir Maurice. - -"An ode to my wig," she told him. "Written in French." - -"An ode to your what?" asked Thomas. - -"My wig, Tom, my wig! You were not here when we discussed it. Cleone -thought it a prodigious ugly wig, but Philip would have none of it. -He said such pretty things about it, and promised me an ode for it! -Philip, did I thank you?" - -Philip was bowing over Cleone's hand. He turned. - -"With your eyes, madame, eloquently! But I need no thanks; it was an -honour and a joy." - -"Think of that!" nodded my lady, looking from Tom to Sir Maurice. -"Philip, come and be presented to Mistress Jennifer. Or do you know -her?" - -Philip released Cleone's hand, and swung round. - -"Jennifer! Of course I know her!" He went across the room. "Why, Jenny, -where do you spring from? How are you?" - -Jennifer gazed up at him with wide eyes. - -"Philip? Is--is it really--you?" she whispered. - -"You didn't know me? Jenny, how unkind! Surely I haven't changed as -much as that?" - -"Y-you have," she averred. "More!" - -"I have not, I swear I have not! Father, go away! Let me sit here and -talk to Jennifer!" - -Only too glad to obey, Sir Maurice rose. - -"He is very peremptory and autocratic, isn't he, my dear?" he smiled. - -Philip sank into the vacated chair. - -"I--I feel I ought to call you Mr. Jettan!" said Jennifer. - -"Jenny! If you dare to do such a thing I shall--I shall--" - -"What will you do?" - -"Write a canzonet to your big eyes!" he laughed. - -Jennifer blushed, and her lips trembled into a smile. - -"Will you really? I should like that, I think, Mr. Jettan." - -"It shall be ready by noon to-morrow," said Philip at once, "if you -will promise not to misname me!" - -"But--" - -"Jenny, I vow I have not changed so much! 'Tis only my silly clothes!" - -"That's--what Clo said when I told her _she_ had changed." - -"Oh!" Philip shot a glance towards the unconscious Cleone. "Did she say -that?" - -"Yes. But I think she has changed, don't you?" - -"_De tete en pieds_," said Philip slowly. - -"What is that?" Jennifer looked rather alarmed. - -Philip turned back to her. - -"That is a foolish habit, Jenny. They say I chatter French all day. -Which is very affected." - -"French? Do you talk French now? How wonderful!" breathed Jennifer. -"Say something else! Please!" - -"_La lumiere de tes beaux yeux me penetre jusqu'au c[oe]ur._" He bowed, -smiling. - -"Oh! What does that mean?" - -"It wouldn't be good for you to know," answered Philip gravely. - -"Oh! but I would like to know, I think," she said naively. - -"I said that--you have very beautiful eyes." - -"Did you? How--how dreadful of you! And you won't forget the--the -can--can--what you were going to write for me, will you?" - -"The canzonet. No, I think it must be a sonnet. And the flower--alas, -your flower is out of season!" - -"Is it? What is my flower?" - -"A daisy." - -She considered this. - -"I do not like daisies very much. Haven't I another flower?" - -"Yes, a snowdrop." - -"Oh, that is pretty!" She clapped her hands. "Is it too late for -snowdrops?" - -"I defy it to be too late!" said Philip. "You shall have them if I have -to fly to the ends of the earth for them!" - -Jennifer giggled. - -"But you couldn't, could you? Cleone! Cleone!" - -Cleone came across the room. - -"Yes, Jenny? Has Mr. Jettan been saying dreadfully flattering things to -you?" - -"N--yes, I think he has! And he says I must still call him Philip. And -oh! he is going to write a--a sonnet to my eyes, tied with snowdrops! -Mr. J--Philip, what is Cleone's flower?" - -Philip had risen. He put a chair forward for Cleone. - -"Can you ask, Jenny? What but a rose?" - -Cleone sat down. Her lips smiled steadily. - -"A rose? Surely it's a flaunting flower, sir?" - -"Ah, mademoiselle, it must be that you have never seen a rose just -bursting from the bud!" - -"Oh, la! I am overcome, sir! And I have not yet thanked you for the -bouquet you sent me this morning!" - -Philip's eyes travelled to the violets at her breast. - -"I did not send violets," he said mournfully. - -Cleone's eyes flashed. - -"No. These"--she touched the flowers caressingly--"I have from Sir -Deryk Brenderby." - -"He is very fortunate, mademoiselle. Would that I were also!" - -"I think you are, sir. Mistress Ann Nutley wore your carnations -yesterday the whole evening." Cleone found that she was looking -straight into his eyes. Hurriedly she looked away, but a pulse was -beating in her throat. For one fleeting instant she had seen the old -Philip, grave, honest, a little appealing. If only--if only-- - -"Mr. Jett--I mean Philip! Will you teach me to say something in French?" - -"Why, of course, _cherie_. What would you say?" - -The pulse stopped its excited beating; the blue eyes lost their wistful -softness. Cleone turned to James, who stood at her elbow. - - - - - Fifteen - - Lady Malmerstoke on Husbands - - -"And he brought it himself, yesterday morning, tied with snowdrops. I -don't know how he got them, for they are over, are they not, Clo? But -there they were, with the prettiest verse you can imagine. It said my -eyes were twin pools of grey! Isn't that beautiful?" - -Cleone jerked one shoulder. - -"It is not very original," she said. - -"Don't you like it?" asked Jennifer reproachfully. - -Cleone was ashamed of her flash of ill-humour. - -"Yes, dear, of course I do. So Mr. Jettan brought it to you himself, -did he?" - -"Indeed, yes! And stayed a full hour, talking to Papa and to me. -What do you think? He has begged me to be sure and dance with him on -Wednesday! Is it not kind of him?" - -"Very," said Cleone dully. - -"I cannot imagine why he should want them," Jennifer prattled on. -"Jamie says he is at Mistress Nutley's feet. Is she very lovely, Clo?" - -"I don't know. Yes, I suppose she is." - -"Philip is teaching me to speak French. It is so droll, and he laughs -at my accent. Can you speak French, Clo?" - -"A little. No doubt he would laugh at my accent if he ever heard it." - -"Oh, I do not think so! He could not, could he? Clo, I asked if he did -not think you were very beautiful, and he said--" - -"Jenny, you must not ask things like that!" - -"He did not mind! Truly, he did not! He just laughed--he is always -laughing, Clo!--and said that there was no one who did not think so. -Was not that neat?" - -"Very," said Cleone. - -Jennifer drew nearer. - -"Cleone, may I tell you a secret?" - -A fierce pain shot through Cleone. - -"A secret? What is it?" she asked quickly. - -"Why, Clo, how strange you look! 'Tis only that I know James to be in -love with--you!" - -Cleone sank back. She started to laugh from sheer relief. - -"I do not see that it is funny," said Jennifer, hurt. - -"No, no, dear! It--it is not that--I mean, of course, of course, I knew -that James was--was--fond of me." - -"Did you? Oh--oh, are you going to marry him?" Jennifer's voice -squeaked with excitement. - -"Jenny, you ask such dreadful questions! No, I am not." - -"But--but he loves you, Clo! Don't you love him?" - -"Not like that. James only thinks he loves me. He's too young. I--Tell -me about your dress, dear!" - -"For the ball?" Jennifer sat up, nothing loth. "'Tis of white silk--" - -"Sir Deryk Brenderby!" - -Jennifer started. - -"Oh, dear!" she said regretfully. - -A tall, loose-limbed man came in. - -"Fair Mistress Cleone! I am happy, indeed, to have found you in! I kiss -your hands, dear lady!" - -Cleone drew them away, smiling. - -"Mistress Jennifer Winton, Sir Deryk." - -Brenderby seemed to become suddenly aware of Jenny's presence. He -bowed. Jennifer curtseyed demurely, and took refuge behind her friend. - -Sir Deryk lowered himself into a chair. - -"Mistress Cleone, can you guess why I have come?" - -"To see me!" said Cleone archly. - -"That is the obvious, fair tormentor! Another reason had I." - -"The first should be enough, sir," answered Cleone, with downcast eyes. - -"And is, Most Beautiful. But the other reason concerns you also." - -"La! You intrigue me, sir! Pray, what is it?" - -"To beg, on my knees, that you will dance with me on Wednesday!" - -"Oh, I don't know!" Cleone shook her head. "I doubt all the dances are -gone." - -"Ah, no, dearest lady! Not all!" - -"Indeed, I think so! I cannot promise anything." - -"But you give me hope?" - -"I will not take it from you," said Cleone. "Perhaps Jennifer will give -you a dance." - -Sir Deryk did not look much elated. But he bowed to Jennifer. - -"May that happiness be mine, madam?" - -"Th--thank you," stammered Jennifer. "If you please!" - -Sir Deryk bowed again and straightway forgot her existence. - -"You wear my primroses, fairest!" he said to Cleone. "I scarce dared to -hope so modest a posy would be so honoured." - -Cleone glanced down at the pale yellow blooms. - -"Oh, are they yours? I had forgot," she said cruelly. - -"Ah, Cleone!" - -Cleone raised her brows. - -"My name, sir?" - -"Mistress Cleone," corrected Brenderby, bowing. - -Lady Malmerstoke chose that moment at which to billow into the room. -She leaned on the arm of one Mr. Jettan. - -"Philip, you are a sad fellow! You do not mean one word of what you -say! Oh, lud! I have chanced on a reception. Give ye good den, Jenny, -my dear. Sir Deryk? Thus early in the morning? I think you know Mr. -Jettan?" - -The two men bowed. - -"I have the pleasure, Lady Malmerstoke," said Brenderby. "I did not see -you last night, Jettan? You were not at Gregory's card-party?" - -"Last night?--last night? No, I was at White's with my father. -Mademoiselle, your very obedient! _Et la petite!_" - -"_Bonjour, monsieur!_" ventured Jennifer shyly. - -Philip swept her a leg. - -"_Mademoiselle a fait des grands progres_," he said. - -She wrinkled her brow. - -"Great--progress?" she hazarded. - -"Of course! And how is mademoiselle?" - -"Very well, I thank you, sir." - -Lady Malmerstoke sank into a large armchair. - -"Well, I trust I don't intrude?" she remarked. "Clo, where is my -embroidery?" She turned to her guests. "I never set a stitch, of -course. It would fatigue me too much. But it looks industrious to have -it by me, doesn't it?" - -Cleone and Brenderby had walked to the table in search of the missing -embroidery. Cleone looked over her shoulder. - -"You must not believe what she says," she told them. "Aunt Sarah -embroiders beautifully. She is not nearly as lazy as she would have you -think." - -"Not lazy, my love--indolent. A much nicer word. Thank you, my dear." -She received her stitchery and laid it down. "I will tell you all a -secret. Oh, Philip knows! Philip, you need not listen." - -Philip was perched on a chair-arm. - -"A million thanks, Aunt!" - -"That is very unkind of you!" she reproached him. "You tell my secret -before ever I have time to say a word!" - -"_Eh bien!_ You should not have suggested that I did not want to listen -to your voice." - -"When I am, indeed, your aunt, I shall talk to you very seriously about -flattering old women," she said severely. - -Cleone clapped her hands. - -"Oh, Aunt Sally! You are going to wed Mr. Jettan?" - -"One of them," nodded her aunt. "I gather that this one"--she smiled up -at Philip--"is going to wed Someone Else. And I do not think I would -have him in any case." - -"And now who is unkind?" cried Philip. "I've a mind to run away with -you as you enter the church!" - -Cold fear was stealing through Cleone. Mechanically she congratulated -her aunt. Through a haze she heard Brenderby's voice and Jennifer's. So -Philip was going to marry Someone Else? No doubt it was Ann Nutley, the -designing minx! - -When Philip came presently to her side she was gayer than ever, -sparkling with merriment, and seemingly without a care in the world. -She drew Sir Deryk into the conversation, flirting outrageously. She -parried all Philip's sallies and laughed at Sir Deryk's witticisms. -Then Philip went to talk to Jennifer. A pair of hungry, angry, jealous, -and would-be careless blue eyes followed him and grew almost hard. - -When the guests had gone Cleone felt as though her head were full of -fire. Her cheeks burned, her eyes were glittering. Lady Malmerstoke -looked at her. - -"You are hot, my love. Open the window." - -Cleone obeyed, cooling her cheeks against the glass panes. - -"How very shy that child is!" remarked my lady. - -"Jenny? Yes. Very, is she not?" - -"I thought Sir Deryk might have noticed her a little more than he did." - -"He had no chance, had he? She was quite monopolised." - -Her ladyship cast a shrewd glance towards the back of Cleone's head. -She smiled unseen. - -"Well, my love, to turn to other matters, which is it to be--Philip or -Sir Deryk?" - -Cleone started. - -"What do you mean, Aunt? Which is it to _be_?" - -"Which are you going to smile upon? You have given both a deal of -encouragement. I don't count young James, of course. He's a babe." - -"Please, please--" - -"I don't like Sir Deryk. No, I don't like him at all. He has no true -politeness, or he would have talked a little more to me, or to Jenny. -Which do you intend to wed, my dear?" - -"Neither?" - -"My dear Cleone!" Her ladyship was shocked. "Then why do you encourage -them to make love to you? Now be advised by me! Have Sir Deryk!" - -Cleone gave a trembling laugh. - -"I thought you did not like him?" - -"No more I do. But that's not to say he'd make a bad husband. On the -contrary. He'd let you do as you please, and he'd not be for ever -pestering you with his presence." - -"For these very reasons I'll none of him!" - -"Then that leaves Philip?" - -Cleone whirled about. - -"Whom I would not marry were he the last man in the world!" - -"Luckily he is not. Don't be so violent, my dear." - -Cleone stood for a moment, irresolute. Then she burst into tears and -ran out of the room. - -Lady Malmerstoke leaned back against the cushions and closed her eyes. - -"There's hope for you yet, Philip," she remarked, and prepared to go -to sleep. It was not to be. Barely five minutes later Sir Maurice was -ushered into the room. - -Her ladyship sat up, a hand to her wig. - -"Really, Maurice, you should know better than to take a woman -unawares!" she said severely. "Your family has been in and out the -house all the morning. What's the matter now?" - -Sir Maurice kissed her hand. - -"First, my heartiest congratulations, Sarah! I have just seen Tom." - -If a lady could grin, Sarah Malmerstoke grinned then. - -"Thank you, Maurice. And how did you find Tom?" - -"Quite incoherent," said Sir Maurice. "He has talked a deal of nonsense -about love-passions belonging only to the young, but I never saw a man -so madly elated in my life." - -"How nice!" sighed my lady blissfully. "And what's your second point?" - -Sir Maurice walked to the fire and stared into it. - -"Sally, it's Cleone." - -"Dear me! What's to do?" - -"If anyone can help me, it's you," he began. - -Her ladyship held up her hands. - -"No, Maurice, no! You're too old!" - -"You ridiculous woman!" He smiled a little. "Does she care for Philip, -or does she not?" - -"Well"--my lady bit her finger--"I've been asking her that question, or -one like it, myself." - -"What did she say?" - -"That she wouldn't marry him were he the last man in the world." - -Sir Maurice looked at her wretchedly. - -"What's come over her? I thought--She said nothing more?" - -"Not a word. She burst into tears and fled." - -His face brightened. - -"Surely that augurs well for him?" - -"Very well," nodded my lady. "But--" - -"But what? Tell me, Sally!" - -"You're very anxious," she observed. - -"Of course I am anxious! I tell you Philip is head over ears in love -with the child! And she--" - -"And she," finished her ladyship deliberately, "will need a deal of -convincing that it is so. We are told that Philip is in love with Ann -Nutley. We know that Philip trifled elegantly with various French -ladies. We see him being kind to little Jennifer. And so on." - -"But he means nothing! You know that!" - -"I? Does it matter what I know? It is what Cleone knows, but there's -naught under the sun so unreasonable as a maid in love." - -"But if Philip assures her--" - -"Pho!" said her ladyship, and snapped her fingers. "Pho!" - -"She wouldn't believe it?" - -"She might. But she might not choose to show it." - -"But it's ridiculous! It's--" - -"Of course. All girls are ridiculous." - -"Sally, don't be tiresome! What's to be done?" - -"Leave 'em alone," counselled her ladyship. "There's no good to be got -out of interfering. Philip must play his own game." - -"He intends to. But he does not know whether she loves him or not!" - -"You can tell him from me that there is hope, but that he must go -carefully. And now I'm going to sleep. Good bye, Maurice." - - - - - Sixteen - - Mistress Cleone Finds There Is No Safety in Numbers - - -When Philip entered the ballroom of my lady Dering's house, on -Wednesday evening, Lady Malmerstoke had already arrived. Cleone was -dancing with Sir Deryk; Jennifer was sitting beside her ladyship, -looking very shy and very bewildered. As soon as he could do so, Philip -made his way to that end of the room. - -Lady Malmerstoke welcomed him with a laugh. - -"Good even, Philip! Have you brought your papa?" - -Philip shook his head. - -"He preferred to go to White's with Tom. Jenny, you'll dance with me, -will you not? Remember, you promised!" - -Jennifer raised her eyes. - -"I--I doubt I--cannot. I--I have danced so few times, sir." - -"Don't tell me those little feet cannot dance, _cherie_!" - -Jennifer glanced down at them. - -"It's monstrous kind of you, Philip--but--but are you sure you want to -lead me out?" - -Philip offered her his arm. - -"I see you are in a very teasing mood, Jenny," he scolded. - -Jennifer rose. - -"Well, I will--but--oh, I am very nervous! I expect you dance so well." - -"I don't think I do, but I am sure you under-rate your dancing. Let us -essay each other!" - - * * * * * - -From across the room Cleone saw them. She promptly looked away, but -contrived, nevertheless, to keep an eye on their movements. She saw -Philip presently lead Jenny to a chair and sit talking to her. Then he -hailed a passing friend and presented him to Jennifer. Cleone watched -him walk across the room to a knot of men. He returned to Jennifer with -several of them. Unreasoning anger shook Cleone. Why did Philip care -what happened to Jennifer? Why was he so assiduous in his attentions? -She told herself she was an ill-natured cat, but she was still angry. -From Jennifer Philip went to Ann Nutley. - -Sir Deryk stopped fanning Cleone. - -"There he goes! I declare, Philip Jettan makes love to every pretty -woman he meets! Just look at them!" - -Cleone was looking. Her little teeth were tightly clenched. - -"Mr. Jettan is a flatterer," she said. - -"Always so abominably French, too. Mistress Ann seems amused. I believe -Jettan is a great favourite with the ladies of Paris." - -Suddenly Cleone remembered that duel that Philip had fought "over the -fair name of some French maid." - -"Yes?" she said carelessly. "Of course, he is very handsome." - -"Do you think so? Oh, here he comes! Evidently the lovely Ann does not -satisfy him.... Your servant, sir!" - -Philip smiled and bowed. - -"Mademoiselle, may I have the honour of leading you out?" he asked. - -Above all, she must not show Philip that she cared what he did. - -"Oh, I have but this instant sat down!" she said. "I protest I am -fatigued and very hot!" - -"I know of a cool withdrawing-room," said Brenderby at once. "Let me -take you to it, fairest!" - -"It's very kind, Sir Deryk, but I do not think I will go. If I might -have a glass of ratafia?" she added plaintively, looking at Philip. - -For once he was backward in responding. Sir Deryk bowed. - -"At once, dear lady! I go to procure it!" - -"Oh, thank you, sir!" This was not what Cleone wanted at all. "Well, -Mr. Jettan, you have not yet fled to Paris?" - -Philip sat down beside her. - -"No, mademoiselle, not yet. To-night will decide whether I go or stay." -His voice was rather stern. - -"Indeed? How vastly exciting!" - -"Is it not! I am going to ask you a plain question, Cleone. Will you -marry me?" - -Cleone gasped in amazement. Unreasoning fury shook her. That Philip -should dare to come to her straight from the smiles of Ann Nutley! She -glanced at him. He was quite solemn. Could it be that he mocked her? -She forced herself to speak lightly. - -"I can hardly suppose that you are serious, sir!" - -"I am in earnest, Cleone, never more so. We have played at -cross-purposes long enough." - -His voice sent a thrill through her. Almost he was the Philip of Little -Fittledean. Cleone forced herself to remember that he was not. - -"Cross-purposes, sir? I fail to understand you!" - -"Yes? Have you ever been honest with me, Cleone?" - -"Have you ever been honest with me, Mr. Jettan?" she said sharply. - -"Yes, Cleone. Before you sent me away I was honest with you. When I -came back, no. I wished to see whether you wanted me as I was, or as I -pretended to be. You foiled me. Now I am again honest with you. I say -that I love you, and I want you to be my wife." - - * * * * * - -"You say that you love me...." Cleone tapped her fan on her knee. -"Perhaps you will continue to be honest with me, sir. Am I the only one -you have loved?" - -"You are the only one." - -The blue eyes flashed. - -"And what of the ladies of the French Court, Mr. Jettan? What of a -certain duel you fought with a French husband? You can explain that, no -doubt?" - -Philip was silent for a moment, frowning. - -"So the news of that absurd affair reached you, Cleone?" - -She laughed, clenching her teeth. - -"Oh, yes, sir! It reached me. A pity, was it not?" - -"A great pity, Cleone, if on that gossip you judge me." - -"Ah! There was no truth in the tale?" Suppressed eagerness was in her -voice. - -"I will be frank with you. A certain measure of truth there was. M. de -Foli-Martin thought himself injured. It was not so." - -"And why should he think so, sir?" - -"Presumably because I paid court to madame, his wife." - -"Yes?" Cleone spoke gently, dangerously. "You paid court to madame. No -doubt she was very lovely?" - -"Very." Philip was nettled. - -"As lovely, perhaps, as Mademoiselle de Marcherand, of whom I have -heard, or as Mistress Ann Nutley yonder? Or as lovely as Jennifer?" - -Philip took a false step. - -"Cleone, surely you are not jealous of little Jenny?" he cried. - -She drew herself up. - -"Jealous? What right have I to be jealous? You are nothing to me, Mr. -Jettan! I confess that once I--liked you. You have changed since then. -You cannot deny that you have made love to a score of beautiful women -since you left home. I do not blame you for that. You are free to do -as you please. What I will not support is that you should come to me -with your proposal, having shown me during the time that you have -spent in England that I am no more to you than Ann Nutley, or Julie de -Marcherand. 'To the Pearl that Trembles in her Ear,' was it not? Very -pretty, sir. And now I intrigue you for the moment. I cannot consider -myself flattered, Mr. Jettan." - -Philip had grown pale under his paint. - -"Cleone, you wrong me! It is true that I have trifled harmlessly with -those ladies. It is the fashion--the fashion you bade me follow. There -has never been aught serious betwixt any woman and me. That I swear!" - -"You probably swore the same to M. de Foli-Martin?" - -"When I had given him the satisfaction he craved, yes." - -"I suppose he believed you?" - -"No." Philip bit his lip. - -"No? Then will you tell me, sir, how it is that you expect me to -believe what M. de Foli-Martin--closely concerned--would not believe?" - -Philip looked straight into her eyes. - -"I can only give you my word, Cleone." - -Still she fought on, wishing to be defeated. - -"So you have never trifled with any of these women, sir?" - -Philip was silent again. - -"You bring me"--Cleone's voice trembled--"a tarnished reputation. I've -no mind to it, sir. You have made love to a dozen other women. Perhaps -you have kissed them. And--and now you offer me--your kisses! I like -unspoilt wares, sir." - -Philip rose, very stiff and stern. - -"I am sorry that you consider yourself insulted by my offer, Cleone." - -Her hand half flew towards him and fell again. Couldn't he understand -that she wanted him to beat down her resistance? Did he care no more -than that? If only he would deny everything and master her! - -"I hasten to relieve you of my obnoxious presence. Your servant, -mademoiselle." Philip bowed. He turned on his heel and walked away, -leaving Cleone stricken. - -Her fan dropped unheeded to the ground. Philip had gone! He had not -understood that she wanted to be overruled, overcome. He had gone, and -he would never come back. In those few minutes he had been the Philip -she loved, not the flippant gallant of the past weeks. Tears came into -Cleone's eyes. Why, why had he been so provoking? And oh, why had she -let him go? She knew now beyond question that he was the only man she -could ever love, or had ever loved. Now he had left her, and would go -back to Paris. Nothing mattered, she did not care what became of her -once she had lost Philip. - -James Winton, never far away, came to her side and sat down. Cleone -greeted him mechanically and proceeded to follow out her own line of -dismal thought. Through a haze of misery she heard James' voice. It -sounded rather shy, and very anxious. She had not the faintest idea of -what he was saying, but she felt vaguely annoyed by his persistency. -Presently these words filtered through to her brain: - -"Say yes, Cleone! Say yes! Oh, say yes, Cleone!" - -How importunate he was! Cleone turned impatiently. - -"Oh, yes, yes! What is it?" - -As James had been blurting out a carefully-worded proposal of marriage, -he was not flattered by this answer. He rose, hurt to the bottom of his -youthful soul. - -"It is evident that you have not heard a word of what I said, Cleone!" - -"Oh, don't worry me, James! I've said yes. What is it? You are so -persistent, and I wish to be quiet!" - -James bowed. - -"I will leave you, madam. I offered you my hand and my heart." With -that he walked off, a picture of outraged dignity. - -Cleone broke into hysterical laughter. Up came Sir Deryk. - -"You seem vastly entertained, lady fair. May I share the pleasantry?" - -Cleone sprang up. - -"Take me away from this!" she begged. "I--I am nigh fainting from the -heat! I--oh, I must be quiet! The fiddling goes through and through my -head. I--oh, take me somewhere cool!" - -Sir Deryk was surprised, but he did not show it. - -"Why, of course, dearest! I know of a small withdrawing-room nearby. -Take my arm, it's stifling in here!" He led her across the room to -where a heavy curtain hung, shutting off a small, dimly-lighted -apartment. - -Meanwhile Philip had gone to Lady Malmerstoke's side. He sat down, -frowning gloomily. - -Her ladyship eyed him speculatively. - -"Well?" she demanded. - -Philip laughed bitterly. - -"Oh, I have been rebuffed! Do I conceal it so admirably?" - -"No, you do not," said her ladyship. "You must have played your cards -monstrously badly. Trust a man." - -"Oh, no! Tis merely that your niece does not love me." - -"Fiddle! Don't tell me that. D'you think I'm a fool, Philip?" - -"She objects, madam, to my--tarnished reputation. She was quite final." - -"You thought she was quite final. Now, don't be stately, child! What -happened?" - -"I asked her to marry me--and she flung my wretched Paris _affaires_ in -my face." - -"Of course, you denied everything?" - -"No, I did not. How could I? There was a certain measure of tr--" - -Lady Malmerstoke leaned back disgustedly. - -"God preserve me from young men! You admitted it?" - -"No--that is, I was frank with her." - -"Great heavens, Philip! Frank with a woman? God help you, then! And -what next? Did you tell Cleone not to be a fool? Did you insist that -she should listen to you?" - -"How could I? She--" - -"You didn't. You walked off when you should have mastered her. I'll -wager my best necklet she was waiting for you to assert yourself. And -now she's probably miserable. Serve her right, and you too." - -"But, Lady Malmerstoke--" - -"Not but what I don't sympathise with the child," continued her -ladyship inexorably. "Of course, she is a fool, but so are all girls. -A woman of my age don't inquire too closely into a man's past--we've -learned wisdom. Cleone knows that you have trifled with a dozen other -women. Bless you, she don't think the worse of you for that!" - -"She does! She said--" - -"For goodness' sake, don't try to tell me what she said, Philip! What's -that to do with it?" - -"But you don't understand! Cleone said--" - -"So she may have. That does not mean that she meant it, does it?" asked -her ladyship in great scorn. - -"_Mais_--" - -"Don't start talking French at me, child, for I can't bear it! You -should know by now that no woman means what she says when it's to a -man." - -"Oh, stop, stop! Lady Malmerstoke, you don't understand! Cleone does -think the worse of me for those intrigues! She is very angry!" - -"Of course she is. What do you expect?" - -Philip clasped his head. - -"_Mais, voyons!_ Just now you said that she does _not_ think the worse -of me for it!" - -"Who said she did? Can't one think two things at the same time?" - -"But surely not two such--such contradictory things! I have never done -so in my life!" - -"You! You're only a man! You've not our gifts! I can tell you!" -My lady spread out her fan. "Why, a woman can think of a hundred -different things at once, all of them contradictory!" She nodded at him -complacently. - -"It's ridiculous! It's impossible! Are women's brains so--so -incoherent?" - -"Most of 'em," answered her ladyship. "They jump, you see." - -"Jump?" Philip was thoroughly bewildered. - -"Jump. From one thing to another. You'll arrive at a new thought by -degrees, and you'll know how you got there. Women don't think like -that. Cleone could not tell you why she thinks well and ill of you at -once, but she does." - -"But surely if she reasons with herself she'll see how absurd--" - -"If she what?" - -"Reasons. I mean--" - -"You're mad," said Lady Malmerstoke with conviction. "Women don't -reason. That's a man's part. Why, do you suppose that if Cleone -thought as you think, and had a brain like a man's, you'd be in -love with her? Of course you'd not. You'd not be able to feel your -superiority over her. Don't tell me!" - -"I don't feel--" - -Her ladyship chuckled. - -"Oh, don't you, Philip? You think that Clo is reasonable-minded, and -able to care for herself, needing no master?" - -"I--no, I don't!" - -"That's what I say. Goodness me, how blind you are! If you didn't -consider that you had to care for Cleone and guard her from everyone -else and herself, you wouldn't love her. Now don't be foolish!" - -Philip laughed ruefully. - -"You're a fount of wisdom, Lady Sally!" - -"Well, I should be at my age. I've had experience, you see, and I never -was a fool." - -"Then--tell me what I am to do?" - -Lady Malmerstoke wagged an impressive finger at him. - -"Take that girl and shake her. Tell her you'll not be flouted. Tell her -she's a little fool, and kiss her. And if she protests, go on kissing -her. Dear me, what things I do say!" - -"Yes, but, dear Lady Sally, how am I to kiss her when she's as cold as -ice--and--and so unapproachable?" - -"And why is she cold?" said her ladyship. "Tell me that!" - -"Because she--thinks me naught but an elegant trifler!" - -"Not a bit of it. Because you treat her gently and politely, and let -her flout you. God bless my soul, women don't want gentle politeness! -Not Cleone, at all events! They like a man to be brutal!" - -"Brutal?" - -"Well, not exactly. They like to feel he'll stand no airs and graces. -Oh, they want gentleness, never fear! But they want to feel helpless. -They want mastering, most of 'em. When you kiss the tips of Clo's -fingers, and treat her as though you thought she was made o' porcelain, -she thinks you're no man, and don't care for her." - -"She cannot! She--" - -"She don't know it, of course, but it's true. Be advised by me, Philip, -and insist on having your way with her. Don't be finicky!" - -"It's very well, but she doesn't love me!" - -"Oh, drat the man!" said her ladyship. "You fatigue me! Go your own -road, but don't blame me when everything goes awry. If you have made -Clo miserable she'll do something mad. And now I've warned you. Oh, -here is James, looking like a sulky bear! James, my good boy, I've left -my handkerchief in another room. Will you fetch it for me, please? Over -there, behind the curtain. Yes, shocking, isn't it? But 'twas only old -Fotheringham, so you can tell your uncle, Philip." - -He rose and laughed down at her. - -"And will he master you, my lady?" - -"Not he," said Lady Malmerstoke placidly. "I'm past the age of wanting -that nonsense. Not that I ever wanted it, but I was always unusual. Be -off with you!" - -Philip took James by the arm. - -"We are summarily dismissed! Come, Jamie, we'll find her handkerchief, -and she'll smile again." - -In the withdrawing-room Cleone was dicing with Sir Deryk. A very -unmaidenly proceeding. She had just lost the rose at her breast to -Brenderby, and he was trying to undo the pin that held it in place. -Failing in that, he grasped the stem firmly, and broke off the bloom. -But with the rose he had clutched a thin blue riband from which hung a -locket. It snapped, and the trinket rolled on to the floor. - -Cleone was already overwrought. She sprang up. - -"Oh, my locket!" And searched wildly on the floor. - -Surprised at her earnestness, Brenderby went down on his knees, and -presently retrieved the locket just as Cleone had seen it. He rose, -and was about to present it to her when she clasped agitated hands and -demanded that it should be given her at once! This aroused Sir Deryk's -curiosity. He withheld it. - -"Why so anxious, Cleone? What secret does it hide?" - -"Naught! Oh, give it me, give it me!" - -Sir Deryk held fast to the trophy. - -"Not so fast, Cleone! I'll swear there's some mystery here! I've a mind -to peep inside!" - -"I forbid you!" said Cleone. "Sir Deryk--" She controlled herself. -"Please give it me!" - -"And so I will, fairest, but first I must see what is inside!" - -"Oh, no, no! There's naught! I could not bear you to look! Besides, -it's--it's empty. I--oh, give it me!" She stamped angrily. - -Brenderby's eyes were alight with impish laughter. - -"I'll make a bargain, sweetest! You shall play me for it." He picked -up the dice-box. "If you beat my throw, I will give you the locket -unopened. If you lose you shall pay a price for it." - -"I don't understand! What do you mean?" - -"You shall kiss me for it. One hard-earned kiss. Come, you must admit -my terms are generous!" - -"I won't! How dare you, sir! And it is _my_ locket! You have no right -to it!" - -"What I find I keep! Come! The odds are equal, and in neither case do I -open the locket." - -"I--I thought you a gentleman!" - -"So I am, Clo. Were I not--I'd take the price and then the locket. -There's no one to see, and no one need know. Cleone--you lovely -creature!" - -Cleone wrung her hands. - -"I should die of shame! Oh, Sir Deryk, please be kind!" - -"Why should I be kind when you are not? You'll none of my terms? Very -well!" He made as if to open the locket. - -"No, no, no!" almost shrieked Cleone. "I'll do anything, anything! Only -don't open it!" - -"You'll play me?" - -Cleone drew a deep breath. - -"Yes. I will. And I'll never, never, never speak to you again!" - -He laughed. - -"Oh, I trust you'll change your mind! Now!" He cast the dice. "Aha! Can -you beat that?" - -Cleone took the box in a firm clasp, and shook it long and violently. -Her cheeks were burning, her eyes tight shut. She threw the dice. -Brenderby bent over the table. - -"Alack!" - -Her eyes flew open. - -"I've won? Oh, I have won!" - -"No. I was grieving for you, fairest, not for myself. You have lost." - -Tears glistened on the end of her long lashes. - -"Sir Deryk--p-please be gen-generous now! I don't want to--kiss you!" - -"What! You cry off? Shame, Cleone!" he teased. - -"You are monstrous unk-kind! It's my locket, and I d-don't want to kiss -you! I don't, I don't! I hate you!" - -"That adds spice, my dear. Must I take the price?" - -She choked down a sob. - -"Very well. Kiss me." She stood where she was, face upturned, with the -resignation of a martyr. - -He laid his hands on her shoulders, looking down at her. - -"By God, Cleone, you're damnably beautiful!" he said thickly. "You've -played with fire to-night--but I won't burn you too much!" He bent his -head till his lips met hers. - -At that inauspicious moment James and Philip walked into the room. - -"No, it was here she said, Philip. I re--" - -With a cry of horror Cleone sprang away from Sir Deryk, her cheeks -flaming. Her wide eyes went from James' face of frozen astonishment to -Philip's pale, furious countenance. - -Philip took a half-step forward, his hand wrenching at his sword-hilt. -Then he checked and slammed the sword back into the scabbard. Cleone -had not struggled in Brenderby's embrace. What could he do? He had -always thought her in love with the fellow. And on the top of his own -proposal.... He swept a magnificent bow. - -"_Mille pardons, mademoiselle!_ It seems that I intrude." - -Cleone winced at the biting sarcasm in his voice. She tried to speak, -and failed. What could she say? - -James came out of his stupor. He strode forward. - -"What in thunder--" - -"I don't kn-know!" quavered Cleone. "Oh--oh, heaven!" - -Quickly Brenderby stepped to her side. He took her hand in his, and -gave it a reassuring squeeze. - -"Gentlemen, you have the honour of addressing my affianced wife," he -said haughtily. - -Philip's hand was on the curtain. It clenched slowly. He stood very -still, his eyes on Cleone's face. - -"Oh!" cried Cleone. "Oh, I--" She stopped helplessly. Heavens, what a -position she was in! If she denied that she was betrothed to Brenderby, -what could Philip think? What must he think? He had seen her in Sir -Deryk's arms; the only excuse was a betrothal. And she had accused -Philip of loose behaviour! Whatever happened, he must not think her a -light woman! But, oh! how could she say she was betrothed to another -when she desired nothing better than to fly to him for protection? She -compromised. - -"I--oh, I think I am about--to faint!" she said. - -Sir Deryk drew her hand through his arm. - -"No, no, my love! Tell these gentlemen that it is as I say." - -Cleone looked at Philip. Was he sneering? She couldn't bear it. - -"Yes," she said. "It is." - -Philip seemed to stiffen. He bowed again. - -"Permit me to offer my felicitations," he said, but his voice was not -quite steady. - -James hurried forward, furious. - -"Your pardon, sir! I beg leave to contradict that statement!" - -They all stared at him in amazement. Philip eyed him through his -quizzing-glass. - -"I--beg--your--pardon?" drawled Brenderby. - -"I am betrothed to her myself!" shouted James. - -Cleone's hands flew to her cheeks. - -"Oh!" she fluttered. "Oh--oh, I _am_ going to faint!" - -Brenderby's eyes twinkled. - -"Bear up a little longer, dear! Of course, I know there is no truth in -what Mr. Winton says!" - -"It is true!" James danced in his fury. "Cleone promised to wed me, -only a little while back! You can't deny it, Clo! You did!" - -"I did not!" - -"You did! You said yes! You know you did!" - -Cleone leaned on the nearest thing to her for support. It chanced to be -Sir Deryk, but she was past caring. - -"James, you know I--never meant it!" - -Suddenly Philip's lips twitched. Brenderby was bubbling over with -ill-suppressed merriment. - -"My dear, this is most serious! Did you, indeed, accept Mr. Winton's -proposal?" - -"Yes, but he knows I did not mean it! I--" - -"Cleone, do you tell me you accepted him and--" - -"Yes, she did! And I hold her to her promise!" - -Cleone's knees threatened to give way. - -"James, I can't marry you! I won't marry you!" - -"I hold you to your promise!" repeated James, almost beside himself. - -"And I." Sir Deryk passed his arm round Cleone's waist. "I hold Cleone -to the promise she has given me!" - -Philip interposed. - -"Probably the lady would be glad of a chair," he suggested evenly. -"James, Brenderby--let your future wife sit down!" - -Sir Deryk's shoulders shook. He led Cleone to the couch, and she sank -on to it, hiding her face. - -Philip swung the curtain aside. - -"Permit me to withdraw. Decidedly I am _de trop_. Mademoiselle, -messieurs!" He went out, and the curtain fell back into place. - -"Oh, oh, oh!" moaned Cleone. - -James bent over her. - -"Come, Clo! Let me take you back to your aunt!" - -Brenderby stepped to Cleone's other side. - -"Cleone needs no other escort than that of her affianced husband, sir!" - -"And that is I!" - -"On the contrary, it is I! Cleone, sweet, come!" - -Cleone sprang up. - -"It's neither of you! Don't--touch me! Oh, that I should be so -humiliated! I will not marry you, James! You know that I never heard -what you said!" - -James set his chin stubbornly. - -"I'll not release you from your promise," he said. - -"And nor will I." Sir Deryk was enjoying himself. - -"You must release me, James!" cried Cleone. "I--I am going to wed--Sir -Deryk!" She dissolved into tears. "Oh, what shall I do? What shall I -do? How--how dreadful it is! Let me go! I hate you both!" She fled from -them and was at her aunt's side before either had time to follow her. - -"Good gracious, child, what's amiss?" exclaimed Lady Malmerstoke. -"You're as white as my wig!" - -"Take me home!" begged Cleone. "I am b-betrothed to Sir Deryk and -James! Oh, for heaven's sake, take me home!" - - - - - Seventeen - - Mistress Cleone at Her Wits' End - - -Sir Maurice and his brother were sitting at breakfast next morning when -Philip burst in on them. Tom jumped up and swore. - -"Damn you, Philip! At this hour!" - -Philip paid not the slightest heed to him. He grasped his father by the -shoulder. - -"Father, you must to Lady Malmerstoke's house at once!" - -Sir Maurice ate another mouthful of beef. - -"Sit down, my son, and be calm. What's to do?" - -"God alone knows!" cried Philip. He sank into a chair and rejected his -uncle's offer of breakfast. "Breakfast? What have I to do with food -when I'm nigh demented?" - -"Drink's the thing," agreed Tom placidly. He pushed a tankard of ale -towards his nephew. "What ails you, lad?" - -"Cleone's betrothed to Brenderby," announced Philip wretchedly. - -"No!" Tom was dumbfounded. - -"And to Winton." Philip sought to drown his troubles in the tankard. - -"What!" Sir Maurice dropped his knife. "Betrothed to Brenderby _and_ -Winton? You're raving!" - -"Would to God I were!" Philip emerged from the tankard, and wiped his -lips with his fathers napkin. "I asked her to marry me at the ball -last night. She refused; I won't tell you her exact words. Half an -hour later I found her kissing _ce scelerat_ Brenderby in a secluded -corner!" He laughed savagely. - -"You mean that Brenderby kissed her?" suggested Tom. - -"No, I do not! _Voyons_, would he be alive now had he dared embrace -Cleone against her will? She submitted--she wished it!" - -"I'll not believe that!" exclaimed Sir Maurice. - -"You must believe it. She is betrothed to him. She said it herself. -James was with me. He interposed, saying that she was already promised -to him." - -Tom gave a chuckle. - -"Faith, the child is rich in--" He caught Philips eye and subsided. -"Oh, ay, ay! Go on." - -"I know no more. I deemed it time for me to withdraw." - -"The proper thing to have done," said Tom solemnly, "was to have struck -an attitude and said, 'Not so! The girl is mine!'" - -"What right had I? I was not amongst the favoured ones." - -"Don't sneer, Philip," interposed Sir Maurice. "There must be something -behind all this." - -Philip turned to him. - -"That's what I hope and trust! You must go at once to Lady -Malmerstoke's!" His head sank into his hands and he gave way to a gust -of laughter. "Oh, Gad! neither would give way an inch. Both held Clo to -her promise!" - -"Ye seem monstrous light-hearted about it," said his uncle. - -Philip sprang up. - -"Because I thought that--for one moment--she looked at me for help!" - -"Which you declined to give?" asked Sir Maurice dryly. - -"_Mon cher pere_, I have my own game to play. Now go to Lady -Malmerstoke's, I implore you!" - -Sir Maurice rose. - -"I'll go at once. What madness can have seized Cleone?" - -Philip almost pushed him out of the room. - -"That is what I want to know. Quickly, Father!" - -The little black page swung open the door of my lady's boudoir. - -"Sah Maurice Jettan!" - -"The very man I wish to see!" exclaimed Lady Malmerstoke. "Maurry, -never were you more opportune!" - -Sir Maurice kissed her hand with punctilious politeness. He then smiled -at Cleone, who stood by the table, pale and wan-looking. - -"I hope I see you well, Cleone?" - -"Very well, thank you, sir," said Cleone dully. - -Lady Malmerstoke sat down. - -"Clo has disgraced me," she said comfortably. "Is it not exciting?" - -Cleone turned her head away. Sir Maurice saw her lips tremble. - -"Please, Aunt--please don't--don't--I shall wed--Sir Deryk." - -"And what's to happen to t'other? You can't wed two men, my dear. I'm -not sure that I shall consent to your marrying either." - -"Sir Deryk--has my word." - -"But so has James." - -"What's this?" Sir Maurice spoke with well-feigned astonishment. -"Cleone, you are not betrothed, surely?" - -"To two men," nodded her aunt. "I have never been so amused in my life. -I always considered myself to be flighty, but I'll swear I never was -engaged to two men at one and the same time!" - -Cleone sat down, staring out of the window and biting her lips. - -"What!" cried Sir Maurice in liveliest horror. "Engaged to two men? -Cleone!" - -The golden head was bowed. A great sob shook Cleone. - -"But--good heavens, my dear! This is dreadful! How could such a thing -have come to pass?" - -"Of course it's dreadful," said her ladyship. "Think of the scandal -when it is known. And that'll be soon, I'll wager. Brenderby will -never keep such a piece of spice to himself." As she spoke, one of her -eyelids flickered. Sir Maurice smiled, unseen by Cleone. - -"You--forget, Aunt. I am going to--wed--Sir Deryk." A shudder ran -through her at the thought. - -"But I don't understand! Tell me how it happened, Cleone!" - -"Yes, tell him, Clo. Mayhap he can help you." - -"No one can help me," said Cleone miserably. "I must bear the pain of -my own folly. I--oh, I have been so wicked!" - -"Now, Cleone? Why? What happened?" - -"I may as well tell you. It will be all over town by to-night--everyone -will know me for a flirtatious, flighty woman. I--" - -"You won't have a shred of reputation left," said her aunt maliciously. - -Cleone started. - -"Rep--Oh, and I said--!" - -"Said what, my love?" - -"Naught. I--I--oh, Sir Maurice, Sir Maurice, I am so unhappy!" Cleone -burst into tears. - -Sir Maurice patted one heaving shoulder. - -"There, there, Cleone! Tell me all about it!" - -"It--it was at the ball last n-night. I--I--no, first James -proposed--to me, and I said yes, but I didn't mean it!" - -"You said yes, but you didn't mean it?" - -"I didn't hear what he said--I--I said yes because he worried so! -And--and he knew I didn't mean it, for he walked away. Then I--I--went -with Sir Deryk to a room apart--" - -"Cle-one!" - -"Oh, I know, I know! It was terrible of me, but I was so upset--I -hardly cared what I did!" - -"But why were you upset? Because James had proposed?" - -"No--I--I--something--else--I can't tell you! Anyway--Sir Deryk took -me to this room, and--and taught me to--to dice--yes, I know it was -horrid! And--and I lost my rose to him, and when he--was taking it, he -broke the string of my locket, and he wouldn't give it me, but said he -must see what was inside, and I _couldn't_ let him! I _couldn't_!" - -"What was inside?" asked Sir Maurice. - -"For heaven's sake, don't ask her that!" begged Lady Malmerstoke. "It -sets her off into floods of tears!" - -"Aunt, _please_! And--and so I played him--for it--and I lost and had -to--to kiss him--for it. Don't, don't look at me! And then--and then -_he_ came--with James--and saw! What he must _think_ of me! And I said -that he--Oh, he must--" - -"Who is 'he'?" asked Sir Maurice innocently. He watched a tell-tale -blush steal up under Cleone's fingers. - -"Mr.--Mr. Jettan--I--he--saw me kiss--Sir Deryk! Then--then--I think, -to spare me--Sir Deryk said I was his betrothed wife. I could not -say I was not, could I? It was too dreadful! And Phil--Mr. Jettan -congratulated us! But James suddenly said he was going to marry me -because I had said yes to him--by mistake! Of course I said I was not, -but he wouldn't release me from my word, and nor would Sir Deryk! -Then--then he--Ph--I mean Mr. Jettan--just bowed and went away, but I -could see what he--thought of--of me. Oh, what shall I do? Neither will -let me go! I am betrothed to two gentlemen, and--oh, _what_ shall I do?" - -Sir Maurice took a pinch of snuff. A smile hovered about his mouth. He -shut the box with a snap. - -"It seems, my dear, that the situation calls for a third gentleman," he -said, and picked up his hat. - -Cleone sprang to her feet. - -"Oh--oh, what are you going to do?" she cried. - -Sir Maurice walked to the door. - -"It needs a masterful hand to extricate you from your delicate -position," he said. "I go in search of such a hand." - -Cleone ran to him, clasping his arm. - -"No, no, no! Oh, for heaven's sake, Sir Maurice, stop!" - -He laid a hand over her clutching fingers. - -"My dear, do you want a scandal?" - -"No, oh no! But I must persuade James!" - -"And do you want to marry this Brenderby?" - -"I--am going to marry him." - -"Cleone, answer me! Do you want to marry him?" - -"I don't want to marry anyone! I wish I were dead!" - -"Well, child, you are not dead. I refuse to see you fall into -Brenderby's clutches, and I refuse to countenance the scandal that -would arise if you rejected him. I am too old to serve you, but I know -of one who is not." - -"Sir Maurice, I implore you, do not speak to him! You don't understand! -You--Oh, stop, stop!" - -Sir Maurice had disengaged himself. He opened the door. - -"You need not fear that the third gentleman will cause you any -annoyance, my dear. I can vouch for his discretion." - -Cleone tried to hold him back. - -"Sir Maurice, you don't understand! You must not ask Ph--your son -to--to--help me! I--I didn't tell you all! I--Oh, come back!" - -The door closed behind Sir Maurice. - -"A very prompt, wise man," commented Lady Malmerstoke. "Now I am to be -baulked of the scandal. Hey-dey!" - -Cleone paced to and fro. - -"I can't face him! I can't, I can't! What must he _think_ of me? What -must he think? Aunt, you don't know all!" - -"Oh, yes, I do," retorted her ladyship. - -"No, no, you do not! Philip asked me to marry him--and--I refused! -I--I--told him--I would not marry a man with a tarnished reputation! -I--I said that--and worse! I accused him of trifling and--and--oh, it's -too awful! That he should have been the one to see! How he must scorn -me. Oh, Aunt, Aunt, can't you say something?" - -"Ay, one thing. That you will have to be very humble to Master Philip. -At least, he was never betrothed twice in one night." - -Cleone collapsed on to the couch. - -"I'll not see him! I--oh, I must go home at once! I must, I must! -Everything is all my fault! I ought never to have--sent him away! And -now--and now he despises me!" - -"Who says so?" - -"I--how could he do else? Don't--don't you realise how dreadful I have -been? And--and his face--when--when he--heard everything! He'll never -never believe--the truth!" - -"What matters it?" asked my lady carelessly. "Since you do not love -him--" - -"Oh, I do, I do, I do!" wept Cleone. - - * * * * * - -Francois admitted Sir Maurice. His round face was perturbed. It cleared -somewhat at the sight of Sir Maurice. - -"_Ah, m'sieur, entrez donc!_ M'sieur Philippe he is like one mad!--He -rage, he go up and down the room like a caged beast! It is a woman, -without doubt it is a woman! I have known it _depuis longtemps_! -Something terrible has happened! M'sieur is _hors de lui-meme_!" - -Sir Maurice laughed. - -"Poor Francois! I go to reassure m'sieur." - -"Ah, if m'sieur can do that!" - -"I can--most effectively. Where is he?" - -Francois pointed to the library door. - - * * * * * - -Philip literally pounced on his father. - -"Well? You have seen her? Is she in love with Brenderby? Is she to wed -him? What did she tell you?" - -Sir Maurice pushed him away. - -"You are the second distracted lover who has clutched me to-day. Have -done." - -Philip danced with impatience. - -"But speak, Father! Speak!" - -Sir Maurice sat down leisurely and crossed his legs. - -"At the present moment Cleone is betrothed. Very much so," he added, -chuckling. "I am about to put the whole matter into your hands." - -"My hands? She wants my help?" - -"Not at all. She is insistent that you shall not be appealed to. In -fact, she was almost frantic when I suggested it." - -"Then does she not want to marry Brenderby?" - -"Certainly not. But she will do if you fail to intervene." - -Philip flung out his hands. - -"But tell me, sir! What happened last night?" - -"Sit down and be quiet," said Sir Maurice severely. "I am on the point -of telling you." - -Philip obeyed meekly. - -"And don't interrupt." Sir Maurice proceeded to relate all that he -had heard from Cleone.... "And she was so upset that she went with -Brenderby, not caring what happened. That is the whole story," he ended. - -"Upset? But--was she upset--because I had offered and been rejected?" - -"Presumably. Now she is so hopelessly compromised that she daren't face -you." - -Philip sank his head into his hands and gave way to a long peal of -laughter. - -"_Sacre nom de Dieu_, the tables are turned, indeed. Oh, Clo, Clo, you -wicked little hussy! And what was in that locket?" - -"That you will have to ask her yourself," answered Sir Maurice. - -Philip jumped up. - -"And I shall. _Mordieu_, never did I dream of such a solution to my -difficulties!" - -"Perhaps she still will not have you, Philip," warned Sir Maurice. - -Philip flung back his head. - -"Thunder of God, she will have me now if I have to force her to the -altar! _Ciel_, you have taken a load off my mind, sir! I thought she -cared for Brenderby! She smiled on him so consistently. And now for _ce -cher_ Brenderby! I am going to enjoy myself." - -"Remember, Philip! No breath of scandal!" - -"Am I so clumsy? Not a whisper shall there be! Francois, Francois! My -hat, my cloak, my boots, and my SWORD!" - - - - - Eighteen - - Philip Takes Charge of the Situation - - -Sir Deryk's valet came to him, bowing. - -"There is a gentleman below who desires speech with you, sir." - -"Oh? Who is he?" - -"Mr. Philip Jettan, sir." - -Sir Deryk raised his eyebrows. - -"Jettan? What can he want with me? Ay, I'll come." He rose and went -languidly downstairs. "This is an unexpected honour, Jettan! Come in!" -He led Philip into a large room. "Is it a mere friendly visit?" - -"Anything but that," said Philip. "I have come to tell you that you -will not be able to wed Mistress Cleone Charteris." - -"Oh?" Brenderby laughed. "Why do you say that?" - -"Because," Philip smiled a little, "I am going to wed her myself." - -"You? Oh, Gad, you make the third!" - -"And there is, as you know, luck in odd numbers. Are you satisfied?" - -"Satisfied? Damme, no! The girl's lovely! I've a mind to her." - -"Even though I tell you that she desires to be released?" - -"Even though she told it me herself!" - -"I trust you will allow me to persuade you?" Philip patted his -sword-hilt lovingly. - -A light sprang to Brenderby's eyes. - -"Is it a fight you're wanting? By Gad, no man has ever had need to -challenge me twice! Here? Now? Help me push the table back!" - -"One moment! You love a hazard, I think? I fight you for the right to -wed Mistress Cleone. If I win you relinquish all claim upon her, and -you swear never to breathe a word of what passed last night. If you -win--oh, if you win, you do as you please!" - -"Ay, aught you will! I've been pining for a fight for many a long day. -You're a man after my heart, stap me if you're not! Here, wait while I -fetch my sword!" He hurried out of the room, returning in a very short -time with a rapier. "I've told my man that you have come to fence with -me. But we'll lock the door in case of accidents. How does my sword -measure with yours?" - -Philip compared them. - -"Very well." His eyes danced suddenly. "_Dieu!_ I never thought to -fight so strange a duel!" He pulled off his boots. "We'll fight in -wigs, yes? One is so displeasing without a hair to one's head." - -"A dozen, if you like!" Brenderby struggled out of his coat and vest. -"You know, you are shorter than I am. We're not fair matched." - -Philip laughed, tucking up his ruffles. - -"No matter. You see, I must win!" - -"Why?" Brenderby made an imaginary pass in the air. - -"So much depends on it," explained Philip. "Is the light fair to both?" - -"Fair enough," said Brenderby. - -"You are ready, then? _Eh bien!_" - -The blades met and hissed together. - -Opening in quarte, Brenderby seemed at first to be the better of the -two. Philip stayed on the defensive, parrying deftly and allowing -Brenderby to expend his energies. Once Brenderby's blade flashed out -and all but pinked Philip, but he managed to recover his opposition -in time. His eyes opened wider; he became more cautious. Suddenly he -descried an opening and lunged forward. There was a moment's scuffle, -and Brenderby put the murderous point aside. Then Philip seemed to -quicken. When Brenderby began to pant, Philip changed his tactics, and -gave back thrust for thrust. His wrist was like flexible steel; his -footwork was superb; the whole style of his fencing was different from -that of Brenderby. - -All at once Brenderby saw an opening. He thrust in quinte, steel -scraped against steel, and Philip's point flashed into his right arm -above the elbow. - -Brenderby staggered back, clutched at his arm, and tried to raise his -sword again. But Philip was at his side, supporting him. - -"It's only a flesh wound--painful now--_bien sur_. It will--heal -quickly. I do not--mistake," he gasped. - -"Damme--I'm not done for--yet!" - -"But yes! I fight--no more. You cannot--keep your blade--steady--now! -Sit down!" He lowered Brenderby into a chair, and whisked out his -handkerchief. He bound up Sir Deryk's wound and fetched him a glass of -wine from a decanter on the sideboard. - -"Thanks!" Sir Deryk gulped it down. "But where are my manners? Pour -some for yourself, Jettan! Gad, but you pinked me neatly!" He seemed to -slip back into his habitual drawl. "As pretty a piece of sword-play as -I wish to see. But you fence French-fashion." - -Philip drank some wine. - -"Yes. It was at Paris that I learned. With Guillaume Corvoisier." - -"No!" Brenderby heaved himself up. "Corvoisier, forsooth! No wonder -you're so quick!" - -Philip smiled and bowed. - -"You frightened me more than once, sir." - -"Faith, it wasn't apparent then! You were so intent on winning?" - -"It means so much, you see," said Philip simply. "My whole life's -happiness." - -"What! You really intend to wed Cleone?" - -Again Philip bowed. - -"I have always intended to wed her." - -"You?" Brenderby stared. "I never knew that! What of that young sprig -Winton?" - -"Oh, I think I can persuade James!" - -"Like this?" Brenderby glanced down at his arm. - -"No, not like that. Tell me, sir, did you intend to wed Mademoiselle?" - -"Heaven forbid! I've no mind to tie myself up yet awhile. Your entrance -last night forced me to say what I did to spare the lady's blushes. I'd -no notion of continuing the comedy, until young Winton thrust in with -his prior claim. Gad, but 'twas amusing! Did you not find it so?" - -"I? No. But I was closely concerned in the affair, you see. I may take -it that you will say naught of last night's work?" - -"Of course not. 'Twas a mad jest, but I'd not let it go so far as to -damage a lady's reputation. And you may tell Mistress Cleone that I -apologise--for what happened before. She's too damnably beautiful." - -Philip worked himself into his coat. - -"'Damnably' is not the word I should employ, but _n'importe_." He sat -down and started to pull on his boots. "I have enjoyed myself. I said I -should." - -"Tare an' 'ouns, so have I! It's an age since I've had a sword in my -hand. I am indebted to you, sir." - -"Yes, you are out of practice. I thank the kind fates for that!" - -"Ay, I'd have kept you at it longer, but I don't know that the issue -would have been different. You must go?" - -Philip picked up his hat. - -"I must. I have to thank you for--" - -"Oh, stuff! I'd no notion of holding Cleone to her promise, but I could -not resist the offer of a fight. I wish you could see how monstrous -amusing it was, though!" - -Philip laughed. - -"Had it been anyone but Cleone I might have been able to appreciate the -humour of the situation! I trust the wound will heal quickly." - -"Oh, that's naught! A mere prick, but I was winded. Fare ye well, -Jettan. My felicitations! You felicitated me last night, did you not?" -He laughed. - -"With black murder in my heart!" nodded Philip. "I do not say good bye, -but _au revoir_!" - -"Here's my hand on it then--my left hand, alack!" - -Philip grasped it. Brenderby accompanied him to the front door and -waved to him as he ran down the steps. - -"_Bonne chance_, as you'd say yourself! _Au 'voir!_" - -Philip waved back at him and turned to hail a passing chair. He -instructed the bearers to carry him to Jermyn Street. - -It seemed that the luck was indeed with him, for he arrived just as -James was descending the steps of his house. Philip sprang out, paid -the chairmen, and took Winton's arm. - -"My friend, a word with you!" - -"Yes?" said James. "You seem excited, Philip." - -"It's what I am, then. I've come to speak to you of Cleone." - -James stiffened. - -"I'll not give her up to that fellow Brenderby!" he said fiercely. -"It's more than flesh and blood can bear." - -"Assuredly. But will you give her up to me?" - -James turned to stare at him. - -"You? But she is to wed Brenderby!" - -"Ah, but no! that is at an end. Brenderby releases her. He is not so -bad a man as you think. _En effet_, I like him." - -"I loathe the sight of him, drawling fop!" - -"To-day I have seen him in another light. But that is not what I have -to say. Cleone does not wish to marry you, _mon enfant_, and it is -churlish to persist." - -"I know she'll never marry me," answered James gloomily. "I only held -her to her word because I thought she'd have Brenderby if I did not." - -"I understand. You'll release her--for me?" - -"I suppose so. Why did you say naught last night?" - -"There were reasons. They no longer exist. Come, Jamie, don't look so -glum! You are young yet." - -"It's easy to say that. Oh, I knew I never had a chance with her! I -congratulate you, Philip." - -Philip pressed his arm. - -"My thanks. You're very generous! And now I must fly!" - -"Where? May I accompany you?" - -"Again many thanks, but no! I have an engagement. _Au revoir, mon -cher!_" - - - - - Nineteen - - Philip Justifies His Chin - - -Once more Lady Malmerstoke's page went up to the boudoir. - -"Mistah Philip Jettan is below, m'lady!" - -Up started Cleone. - -"I will not see him! Aunt Sarah, I beg you will go to him! Please spare -me this--humiliation!" - -Lady Malmerstoke waved her aside. - -"Admit him, Sambo. Yes, here. Cleone, control yourself!" - -"I can't see him! I can't! I can't! How _can_ I face him?" - -"Turn your back, then," said her unsympathetic aunt. "I wonder what he -has done?" - -"D-do you think he--could have--arranged everything?" asked Cleone, -with a gleam of hope. - -"From what I have seen of him, I should say yes. A masterful young man, -my dear. Else why that chin?" She moved to the door. Philip came in, -immaculate as ever. "Ah, Philip!" - -Philip shot a look past her. Cleone had fled to the window. He bent and -kissed Lady Malmerstoke's hand. - -"_Bonjour, madame!_" He held open the door and bowed. - -Her ladyship laughed. - -"What! Turning me from my own boudoir?" - -"If you please, madame." - -"Aunt--Sarah!" The whisper came from the window. - -Philip smiled faintly. - -"Madame...." - -"Oh, that chin!" said her ladyship, and patted it. She went out and -Philip closed the door behind her. - -Cleone's fingers clasped one another desperately. Her heart seemed to -have jumped into her throat. It almost choked her. She dared not look -round. She heard the rustle of Philip's coat-skirts. Never, never had -she felt so ashamed, or so frightened. - -"Your devoted servant, mademoiselle!" - -Cleone could not speak. She stood where she was, trembling -uncontrollably. - -"I have the honour of informing you, mademoiselle, that you are -released from your engagements." - -Was there a note of laughter in the prim voice? - -"I--thank you--sir," whispered Cleone. Her teeth clenched in an effort -to keep back the tears. She was blinded by them, and her bosom was -heaving. - -There was a slight pause. Why did he not go? Did he wish to see her -still more humiliated? - -"I have also to offer, on Sir Deryk's behalf, his apologies for the -happenings of last night, mademoiselle." - -"Th--thank--you, sir." - -Again the nerve-killing silence. If only he would go before she broke -down! - -"Cleone...." said Philip gently. - -The tears were running down her cheeks, but she kept her head turned -away. - -"Please--go!" she begged huskily. - -He was coming across the room towards her.... Cleone gripped her hands. - -"Cleone ... dearest!" - -A heartbroken sob betrayed her. Philip took her in his arms. - -"My sweetheart! Crying? Oh no, no! There is naught now to distress -you." - -The feel of his arms about her was sheer bliss; their strength was like -a haven of refuge. Yet Cleone tried to thrust him away. - -"What--must you--think of me!" she sobbed. - -He drew her closer, till her head rested against his shoulder. - -"Why, that you are a dear, foolish, naughty little Cleone. _Cherie_, -don't cry. It is only your Philip--your own Philip, who has always -loved you, and only you. Look up, my darling, look up!" - -Cleone gave way to the insistence of his arms. - -"Oh, Philip--forgive me!" she wept. "I have--been mad!" She raised her -head and Philips arms tightened still more. He bent over her and kissed -her parted lips almost fiercely. - - * * * * * - -Later, seated beside him on the couch, her head on his shoulder, and -his arm about her, Cleone gave a great sigh. - -"But why--why did you treat me so--hatefully--when you--came back, -Philip?" - -"I was hurt, darling, and wished to see whether you wanted the real -me--or a painted puppet. But then you changed suddenly--and I knew not -what to think." - -Cleone nestled closer. - -"Because I thought you--did not care! But oh, Philip, Philip, I have -been so unhappy!" - -Philip promptly kissed her. - -"And--last night--Philip, you don't think I--" - -"Sweetheart! Is it likely that I'd believe ill of you?" - -She hid her face. - -"I--I believed--ill--of you," she whispered. - -"But you do not believe it now, sweetheart?" - -"No, oh no! But--but--that duel with Mr. Bancroft. Was it--was -it--some--French lady?" - -Philip was silent for a moment. - -"No, Cleone. That is all I can say." - -"Was it"--her voice was breathless--"was it--me?" - -Philip did not answer. - -"It was! How wonderful!" - -Philip was startled. - -"You are pleased, Cleone? Pleased?" - -"Of course I am! I--oo!" She gave a little wriggle of delight. "Why did -you not tell me?" - -"It is not--one of the things one tells one's lady-love," said Philip. - -"Oh! And to-day? How did you--persuade Sir Deryk?" - -"Through the arm. But he had no intention of holding you to your word." - -Cleone grew rather rigid. - -"Oh--indeed? In-deed?" - -Philip was mystified. - -"You did not want to be held to it, did you, _cherie_?" - -"N-no. But--I don't like him, Philip." - -"I did not, I confess. I think I do now." - -"Do you? And what of James?" - -"Oh, James! He will recover." - -There was a pause while Cleone digested this. - -"Philip?" - -"Cleone?" - -"You--you--don't care for Jenny, do you?" - -"Jenny? Cleone, for shame! Because I was polite--" - -"More than that, Philip!" - -"Well, dearest, no one paid any heed to her or was kind. What would -you?" - -"It was only that? I thought--I thought--" - -"Cleone, you think too much," he chided her. "Next you will accuse me -of loving Ann Nutley!" It was a master-stroke, and he knew it. - -"You didn't? Not a tiny bit?" - -"Not an atom!" - -"And no one--in Paris?" - -"No one. I have pretended, but they all knew that I had already lost my -heart." - -"You pretended?... Oh!" - -"One must, sweetest." - -"But--" - -He drew her closer. - -"But never, most beautiful, did I become engaged--twice in one -evening!" He stifled the cry that rose to her lips. - -"Philip, that is ungallant, and--and hateful!" - -He laughed. - -"Is it not? Ah, Cleone! Tell me, my dearest, what is in your locket?" - -"Something I meant to burn," she murmured. - -"But did not?" - -"No--I could not." She fumbled at her bosom and drew out the trinket. -"See for yourself, Philip." - -He opened it. A rolled lock of brown hair fell out and a torn scrap of -parchment. Philip turned it over. - -"Yours till death, Philip," he read. "Cleone, my love." - -She buried her face on his shoulder. - -"Your--hair--your poor hair!" she said. - -"All gone! Look up, Cleone!" - -She lifted her face. He gazed down at her, rapt. - -"Oh, Cleone--I shall write a sonnet to your wonderful eyes!" he -breathed. - - - - - Twenty - - Mademoiselle de Chaucheron Rings Down the Curtain - - -Sir Maurice Jettan stood in the withdrawing-room of the Hotel Cleone -and studied himself in the glass. He smiled a little and straightened -his shoulders. - -There came a swish of skirts in the passage without, and the door -opened. In walked Cleone, a fair vision in a gown of pure white satin -and lace. - -Sir Maurice turned. He raised his quizzing-glass the better to inspect -his daughter-in-law. - -"Upon my soul, Cleone!" he ejaculated. - -Cleone swept him a curtsey, laughing. - -"Is it not ridiculous? Philip insisted. Wait till you see him!" She ran -to the mirror. "Do you like the way my hair is dressed, father?" - -"I am struck dumb by the whole effect!" answered Sir Maurice. "Yes, I -like that white rose in your hair." - -"Oh, you must tell Philip that! He spent hours and hours trying -to place it to his entire satisfaction! It has been terrible, _je -t'assure_. Yes, I am beginning to acquire an accent, am I not? Philip -nearly tore his beautiful wig in his anxiety!" She re-arranged the -roses at her breast. "At one time I expected him to summon Francois to -his assistance. But he refrained, and here am I!" - -Sir Maurice sat down. - -"Has he been dressing you, my dear?" - -"Has he--! For the past three hours, sir! He has driven my maid -distracted." She started to count on her fingers. "He spent half an -hour superintending my hair-dressing and another half an hour placing -this rose and the pearls. Then half an hour went to my patches--this is -when he nearly tore his wig!--he could not decide where to put them. -The arrangement of my gown occupied quite an hour in all. And then he -was much put out over my jewels." She held up her fingers. "I vow they -are red and sore, sir! I have had rings pushed on them, and dragged -off them, until I was nigh screaming with impatience! But now I am -dressed--and I have been told on pain of Philip's direst wrath to _n'y -toucher pas_!" She sat down on the couch beside Sir Maurice and slipped -her hand in his. "Is he not absurd? And oh, I am prodigious nervous!" - -"Why, my dear? What should make you so?" - -"You see, it is my first appearance in Paris--it is to be my first -ball--and I am so afraid I shall not understand what is said to me, -or--or something mortifying!" - -"Not understand? Nonsense, Clo! Why, you have talked hardly any English -since you have been married." - -"Yes, but I am not at all fluent. Philip says everyone will be most -amiable, but--oh, dear!" - -At that moment Francois darted into the room, a harassed frown on his -face. - -"Ah, _pardon, madame! Pardon, m'sieu'! Je cherche la tabatiere de -m'sieu' Philippe!_" - -"_Laquelle?_" asked Cleone. Sir Maurice was amused by her serious air. -"The one with the pearls?" - -"_Mais oui, madame._ It is this fool of a Jacques who has lost it, -_sans doute_! Ah, _la voila_!" He seized the errant box and skipped out -again. Cleone breathed a sigh of relief. - -"How terrible if it had been really lost!" she said. - -Sir Maurice laughed. - -"Would it have been so great a catastrophe?" - -"But of course! It matches his dress, you understand." - -"I see." Sir Maurice smothered another laugh. "My dear, do you know -that it is three years since last I was in this city of cities?" - -"Is it? Don't you think it is a wonderful place? Philip took me for a -walk yesterday, and I was enchanted! And this house--I know I shall -never bear to leave it! Philip says that the Hotel Cleone will be the -most fashionable one in Paris! I was so surprised when he brought me -here! I had no idea that there was a house waiting for me. He and -Francois got all ready the week before our marriage! I've never been so -happy in my life! And to-night I am to see Philip in what he calls his -milieu. He tells me he was never at home in London." - -"Philip in his milieu. Paris." Sir Maurice smiled down at her. "When I -think of what Philip was not quite a year ago...." - -"It seems impossible, doesn't it? But oh, I am glad now that I sent him -away. He is quite, quite perfect!" - -"H'm!" said Sir Maurice. - -Cleone laughed at him. - -"You pretend! I know how proud you are!" - -"Minx! I confess I am curious to see Philip in his Parisian Society. No -one knows that he is here?" - -"Not a soul. He insisted on guarding the secret until he could make a -really dramatic appearance at the Duchesse de Sauverin's ball to-night. -He is mad, you know, quite mad! Oh, here he is!" - -Philip came into the room with a rustle of stiff silks. Sir Maurice -started at him. - -"Good God, Philip, what audacity!" - -From head to foot his son was clad in white. The only splash of colour -was the red heels of his shoes; his only jewels were pearls and -diamonds; on the lapel of his coat he wore a single white rose. - -"Isn't it ridiculous?" said Cleone. "But doesn't he look beautiful?" - -"Stand up, child, and let me see you side by side.... Yes. What -audacity! Had I known, I would have attired myself in black--the old -man at the ball." - -"'Twould have made an excellent foil," agreed Philip. "But no matter. -Cleone, you have re-arranged your roses!" - -Cleone backed, warding him off. - -"I cry your pardon, sir! Oh no, let me be!" - -Philip came to her, and with deft fingers pulled the flowers into -position. - -"One of them must kiss your skin, so! To show that it is no whiter than -the skin. _Voila, c'est bien!_" - -"Who is likely to be at the ball to-night, Philip?" asked his father. - -"_Tout le monde._ One always goes to Madame de Sauverin's balls. It is -de rigueur." - -"We shall be late!" warned Cleone. "Oh, we are late now!" - -"That is also de rigueur," said Philip. - -"Sir Maurice, _M'sieu', et Madame Jettan_!" announced the lackey. - -There was a sudden hush. All eyes turned to the late-comers. In the -doorway stood a tall gentleman, at his side two dazzling visions in -white. - -Madame de Sauverin stared for a moment in wonderment. Then she hurried -forward, hands outstretched. - -"Philippe!" - -"Philippe! _Le petit_ Philippe!" A score of voices took up the cry. -Nearly everyone there surged forward. - -Philip kissed Madame's hand. - -"_Chere madame!_ I may present my wife? My father you know." - -Cleone curtseyed low. - -"Your--wife!" Madame took Cleone's hands. "_Voyons, voyons, notre petit -Philippe s'est_ espouse! _Et Maurice!_" - -Philip and Cleone were at the centre of a welcoming throng. Cleone's -hand was kissed a dozen times. Delighted questions were shot at Philip. - -Saint-Dantin grasped his hand. - -"_Mon cher petit!_ You have returned at last? _Et madame!_" He bowed -to the blushing Cleone. "There is no need to ask who is, _madame_." He -smiled at her. "It is evident that her name is Cleone!" - -De Vangrisse pressed forward. - -"The mysterious Cleone! _Madame, votre serviteur!_ We have all longed -to see the lady who so consistently held Philip's heart!" - -"Philippe, how long have you been in Paris?" demanded De Chatelin. "You -are going to remain? _Ah bon!_" - -"Philippe, have you an ode for the occasion?" asked another laughing -voice. - -Clothilde de Chaucheron pushed through the ring. - -"_Le petit Philippe au c[oe]ur perdu!_" she cried. - -Philip disengaged himself from the clutches of Saint-Dantin and took -his wife's hand. - -"_Mademoiselle de Chaucheron, cherie_," he said, and bowed. - -Clothilde gazed at Cleone for a moment. Then she swept a deep curtsey. - -"_Je me trompe_," she said, smiling. "_Le petit Philippe au c[oe]ur -trouve._" - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Transformation of Philip Jettan, by -Georgette Heyer and Stella Martin - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRANSFORMATION OF PHILIP JETTAN *** - -***** This file should be named 60776.txt or 60776.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/7/7/60776/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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