"Oh, we've heard all about it from Henriette!" said Mrs. Sanford. "And--and I must confess that what I particularly liked was the way that you knocked that beast of a Prussian down." "Yes," said the vicar, stiffening out of his usual stoop and stopping. "But what was it? I am very curious. Er--I boxed a little myself when I was young. Just a straight lead with the right?" "No," said Phil, turning and holding up his finger at Henriette. "I've a bone to pick with you for telling!" "Later!" she smiled back. "If not a straight lead with the right, what was it?" persisted the vicar. "An upper cut to the jaw!" Phil murmured awkwardly. "Very effectual, always!" replied the vicar. "Now, he was standing about like this, and you ducked like this to let his blow by?" "My dear, this is positively shocking!" gasped his wife, mindful that they were in the village street at the time. "Then you gave it to him like this----" and there the vicar of Truckleford brought his fist up in correct fashion and pressed it against the correct section of Phil's physiognomy. "Exactly!" he concluded, chuckling. "I remember once I used it in a little row--before I had taken orders, my dear, before I had taken orders!" When they turned in at the vicarage gate they found Madame Ribot at ease on a lawn chair in the shade near the tea-table, looking as charming as usual and with a novel on her lap as usual. "Now I may thank you in person for the part of a brave gentleman that you have played!" she said to Phil in her delightful way. "And you, my truant Helen, you've found time to come and see your mother, too," she added, as she embraced Helen. "But have you seen this?" demanded Phil when all were seated around the tea-table. "We have a distinguished person with us. I had the honour of riding down in the train with her from London--with none other than that celebrated artist who is now sipping tea out of a cup just like any everyday person." He held up the double page for all to see. Helen continued to look into her teacup as they passed the picture around. "Very timely! Just what the editors wanted," said Henriette. "I'm so glad, Helen!" Madame Ribot seemed most surprised of all at the actuality of the thing. She drew a long breath of realising satisfaction. "And you did this in the midst of all that shellfire, you poor dear--I mean----" exclaimed Mrs. Sanford. "Oh, I don't mind being called poor dear!" said Helen in a soft, impersonal way. "What a bad-tempered person I have been!" she added. The vicar rose from his chair and went over to Helen, taking her hand in his and patting her on the head. In his heart he had ever been as fond of Helen as had General Rousseau, though fondness for Helen was not the fashion among the friends of the Ribots. A little success had made her almost important. "And the shell that hit between us, did you hear about that?" Phil went on.