"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?"