She considered this. "I do not like daisies very much. Haven't I another flower?" "Yes, a snowdrop." "Oh, that is pretty!" She clapped her hands. "Is it too late for snowdrops?" "I defy it to be too late!" said Philip. "You shall have them if I have to fly to the ends of the earth for them!" Jennifer giggled. "But you couldn't, could you? Cleone! Cleone!" Cleone came across the room. "Yes, Jenny? Has Mr. Jettan been saying dreadfully flattering things to you?" "N--yes, I think he has! And he says I must still call him Philip. And oh! he is going to write a--a sonnet to my eyes, tied with snowdrops! Mr. J--Philip, what is Cleone's flower?" Philip had risen. He put a chair forward for Cleone. "Can you ask, Jenny? What but a rose?" Cleone sat down. Her lips smiled steadily. "A rose? Surely it's a flaunting flower, sir?" "Ah, mademoiselle, it must be that you have never seen a rose just bursting from the bud!" "Oh, la! I am overcome, sir! And I have not yet thanked you for the bouquet you sent me this morning!" Philip's eyes travelled to the violets at her breast. "I did not send violets," he said mournfully. Cleone's eyes flashed. "No. These"--she touched the flowers caressingly--"I have from Sir Deryk Brenderby." "He is very fortunate, mademoiselle. Would that I were also!" "I think you are, sir. Mistress Ann Nutley wore your carnations yesterday the whole evening." Cleone found that she was looking straight into his eyes. Hurriedly she looked away, but a pulse was beating in her throat. For one fleeting instant she had seen the old Philip, grave, honest, a little appealing. If only--if only-- "Mr. Jett--I mean Philip! Will you teach me to say something in French?" "Why, of course, _chérie_. What would you say?" The pulse stopped its excited beating; the blue eyes lost their wistful softness. Cleone turned to James, who stood at her elbow. Fifteen Lady Malmerstoke on Husbands "And he brought it himself, yesterday morning, tied with snowdrops. I don't know how he got them, for they are over, are they not, Clo? But there they were, with the prettiest verse you can imagine. It said my eyes were twin pools of grey! Isn't that beautiful?" Cleone jerked one shoulder. "It is not very original," she said. "Don't you like it?" asked Jennifer reproachfully. Cleone was ashamed of her flash of ill-humour. "Yes, dear, of course I do. So Mr. Jettan brought it to you himself, did he?" "Indeed, yes! And stayed a full hour, talking to Papa and to me. What do you think? He has begged me to be sure and dance with him on Wednesday! Is it not kind of him?" "Very," said Cleone dully. "I cannot imagine why he should want them," Jennifer prattled on. "Jamie says he is at Mistress Nutley's feet. Is she very lovely, Clo?" "I don't know. Yes, I suppose she is." "Philip is teaching me to speak French. It is so droll, and he laughs at my accent. Can you speak French, Clo?"