"What do you mean?" demanded Cleone. "Don't eat me," sighed her aunt. "'Tis your principal charm--freshness." "Oh!" said Cleone doubtfully. "Or it was," added Lady Malmerstoke, folding her hands and closing her eyes. "Was! Aunt Sally, I insist that you tell me what it is you mean!" "My love, you know very well what I mean." "No, I do not! I--I--Aunt Sally, wake up!" Her ladyship's brown eyes opened. "Well, my dear, if you must have it, 'tis this--you make yourself cheap by your flirtatious ways." Cleone's cheeks flamed. "I--oh, I don't f--flirt! I--Auntie, how can you say so?" "Quite easily," said her ladyship. "Else had I left it unsaid. Since this Mr. Philip Jettan has returned you have acquired all the tricks of the sex. I do not find it becoming in you, but mayhap I am wrong." "It has nothing to do with Ph--Mr. Jettan!" "I beg your pardon, my dear, I thought it had. But if you wish to attract him--" "Aunt!" almost shrieked Cleone. "I wish you would not interrupt," complained Lady Malmerstoke wearily. "I said if you wish to attract him you should employ less obvious methods." "H--how _dare_ you, Aunt Sally! I wish to attract him? I hate him! I hate the very sight of him!" The sleepy brown eyes grew more alert. "Is that the way the wind lies?" murmured Lady Malmerstoke. "What's he done?" she added, ever practical. "He hasn't done anything. He--I--" "Then what hasn't he done?" "Aunt Sally--Aunt Sally--you--I won't answer! He--nothing at all! 'Tis merely that I do not like him." "It's not apparent in your manner," remarked her ladyship. "Are you determined that he shall fall in love with you?" "Of course I never thought of such a thing! I--why should I?" "For the pleasure of seeing him at your feet, and then kicking him away. Revenge, my love, revenge." "How dare you say such things, Aunt! It--it isn't true!" Lady Malmerstoke continued to pursue her own line of thought. "From all I can see of this Philip, he's not the man to be beaten by a chit of a girl. I think he is in love with you. Have a care, my dear. Men with chins like his are not safe. I've had experience, and I know. He'll win in the end, if he has a mind to do so." "Mind!" Cleone was scornful. "He has no mind above clothes or poems!" Lady Malmerstoke eyed her lazily. "Who told you that, Clo?" "No one. I can see for myself." "There is nothing blinder than a very young woman," philosophised her ladyship. "One lives and one learns. Your Philip--" "He isn't my Philip!" cried Cleone, nearly in tears. "You put me out," complained her aunt. "Your Philip is no fool. He's dangerous. On account of that chin, you understand. Don't have him, my dear; he's one of your masterful men. They are the worst; old Jeremy Fletcher was like that. Dear me, what years ago that was!" "He--he's no more masterful than--than his uncle!" "No, thank heaven, Tom's an easy-going creature," agreed her aunt. "A pity Philip is not the same."