"Do not be offended. You are a younger man. You do not play so well as he, my friend." The "friend" came softly at the end. But Mr Davison chafed at the under-estimation of his powers. "You think so because I have not won to-night. Let me tell you, for your satisfaction, that I was not afraid of meeting any man at the 'Varsity, and there are some first-rate players there." The lady smiled. "At the 'Varsity? I see." She opened the door. The dawn streamed in. "Good-night." As Mr Davison strolled homewards he saw before him in the air, not a pack of cards, but a woman's eyes. CHAPTER II Mr Davison saw Mr Lintorn again at the eleven o'clock breakfast that morning. "Find her father?" was Mr Lintorn's greeting to him as he took his seat. "Find her father? Whose? Oh, Mdlle. de Fontanes'! No; I had to see her home." "Hard lines!" Mr Lintorn waited until the second course was served before he spoke again. "It took you a long time to see her home?" "I don't understand you." "I sat up for you until nearly two, and you weren't in then." "It was very good of you to sit up for me, I'm sure." Mr Lintorn, adjusting his eyeglasses, looked his friend fixedly in the face. "Davison, if you will allow me, on this occasion only, to play the part of mentor, you will have as little to do with the de Fontanes as you conveniently can. "What the deuce do you mean?" "Nothing; only a word to the wise--" "Considering that they are not my friends, but yours--" "Who said they were my friends?" "You introduced me." "I introduced you? The like of that!" The pair sallied forth together to see the bathers. Who should they chance upon but M. and Mdlle. de Fontanes. Mademoiselle had bathed. She looked radiant. Unlike the average woman, who finds the ordeal of emerging from the sea a trying one, the sea had but enhanced her charms. They were quite a family party. M. de Fontanes even unbent so far as to express a hope that the two Englishmen would dine with them that same evening. They were but in a temporary apartment; he could not promise them much, but they should have something to eat. Mr Davison accepted with effusion. Mr Lintorn, a little to his friend's surprise, after what had passed between them, accepted too. Mr Davison spent the rest of the day in looking forward to his dinner. It was to be at seven. As a matter of course, he was dressed at six. Yet, owing to Mr Lintorn, it was half-past seven before they reached the Rue des Anges. Mr Davison was perspiring with rage. Mdlle. de Fontanes received them. Her father was standing, looking black, behind. Mr Lintorn was the first to enter the room. "I pray your pardon, but Mr Davison has not yet reached an age at which punctuality at dinner is esteemed a virtue." The thing was gratuitous. "I assure you, Mdlle. de Fontanes--" burst out Mr Davison. The young lady cut him short. "I forgive you," she said. "It is so nice to be young."