"Madame--Mademoiselle." He shook hands with charming grace. "Monsieur." He bowed stiffly. Aristide doffed his Panama hat with adequate ceremony. "May I be permitted to join you?" "With pleasure, Monsieur de Lussigny," said Mrs. Errington. Monsieur de Lussigny brought up a chair and sat down. "What time did you get to bed, last night?" asked Betty Errington. She spoke excellently pure French, and so did her mother. "Soon after we parted, mademoiselle, quite early for me but late for you. And you look this morning as if you had gone to bed at sundown and got up at dawn." Miss Betty's glance responsive to the compliment filled Aristide with wrath. What right had the Comte de Lussigny, a fellow who consorted with Brazilian Rastaquouères and perfumed Levantine nondescripts, to win such a glance from Betty Errington? "If Mademoiselle can look so fresh," said he, "in the artificial atmosphere of Aix, what is there of adorable that she must not resemble in the innocence of her Somersetshire home?" "You cannot imagine it, Monsieur," said the Count; "but I have had the privilege to see it." "I hope Monsieur Pujol will visit us also in our country home, when we get back," said Mrs. Errington with intent to pacificate. "It is modest, but it is old-world and has been in our family for hundreds of years." "Ah, these old English homes!" said Aristide. "Would you care to hear about it?" "I should," said he. He drew his chair courteously a foot or so nearer that of the mild lady; Monsieur de Lussigny took instant advantage of the move to establish himself close to Miss Betty. Aristide turned one ear politely to Mrs. Errington's discourse, the other ragingly and impotently to the whispered conversation between the detached pair. Presently a novel fell from the lady's lap. Aristide sprang to his feet and restored it. He remained standing. Mrs. Errington consulted a watch. It was nearing lunch time. She rose, too. Aristide took her a pace or two aside. "My dear Mrs. Errington," said he, in English. "I do not wish to be indiscreet--but you come from your quiet home in Somerset and your beautiful daughter is so young and inexperienced, and I am a man of the world who has mingled in all the society of Europe--may I warn you against admitting the Comte de Lussigny too far into your intimacy." She turned an anxious face. "Monsieur Pujol, is there anything against the Count?" Aristide executed the large and expressive shrug of the Southerner. "I play high at the tables for my amusement--I know the principal players, people of high standing. Among them Monsieur de Lussigny's reputation is not spotless." "You alarm me very much," said Mrs. Errington, troubled. "I only put you on your guard," said he. The others who had risen and followed, caught them up. At the entrance to the hotel the ladies left the men elaborately saluting. The latter, alone, looked at each other. "Monsieur." "Monsieur."