He could think of no fitter image. As if he were made of wood! Charles Wargrave was not used to this sort of treatment. He laughed to himself softly at the thought of it--laughed, yet was piqued and a little rueful. And all the time it was only Mademoiselle! CHAPTER III. Mrs Wargrave made next morning a very pretty little speech of mingled gratitude and apology to Mademoiselle. "I can't imagine," she said, "what made me so silly as to faint last night. It is a thing I've always been subject to, but it's always a stupid thing to do. I hear you were so good, coming down directly when Jervis lost her head, and doing everything that was kindest and best. I am so much obliged to you, Mademoiselle. Of course I was not conscious of what was going on, so I couldn't show you any gratitude then." "De rien," said Mademoiselle, "à votre service, as my country-folk say." "Your country-folk are always polite," said Mrs Wargrave, and then she laughed a little meaning laugh. "I hear the gentlemen were quite impressed by the sight of you in your dressing-gown." Mademoiselle coloured a little. She had forgotten that reflection of hers that white was becoming, and only felt the horror of having been seen in _déshabillé_. "I did not stop to think," she said, "how I was dressed: and it was so hot. I had no idea that I should be called down-stairs." "No, how could you? I shall not do anything so absurd again if I can help it. I have told that foolish creature Jervis what she ought to have done. Yes, I feel all right this morning, thanks. The heat was tremendous last night, there was not a breath of air, but this morning it's quite cool again. Don't let me delay the lessons. I only came to say again 'Thank you,' Mademoiselle."