"Well"--my lady bit her finger--"I've been asking her that question, or one like it, myself." "What did she say?" "That she wouldn't marry him were he the last man in the world." Sir Maurice looked at her wretchedly. "What's come over her? I thought--She said nothing more?" "Not a word. She burst into tears and fled." His face brightened. "Surely that augurs well for him?" "Very well," nodded my lady. "But--" "But what? Tell me, Sally!" "You're very anxious," she observed. "Of course I am anxious! I tell you Philip is head over ears in love with the child! And she--" "And she," finished her ladyship deliberately, "will need a deal of convincing that it is so. We are told that Philip is in love with Ann Nutley. We know that Philip trifled elegantly with various French ladies. We see him being kind to little Jennifer. And so on." "But he means nothing! You know that!" "I? Does it matter what I know? It is what Cleone knows, but there's naught under the sun so unreasonable as a maid in love." "But if Philip assures her--" "Pho!" said her ladyship, and snapped her fingers. "Pho!" "She wouldn't believe it?" "She might. But she might not choose to show it." "But it's ridiculous! It's--" "Of course. All girls are ridiculous." "Sally, don't be tiresome! What's to be done?" "Leave 'em alone," counselled her ladyship. "There's no good to be got out of interfering. Philip must play his own game." "He intends to. But he does not know whether she loves him or not!" "You can tell him from me that there is hope, but that he must go carefully. And now I'm going to sleep. Good bye, Maurice." Sixteen Mistress Cleone Finds There Is No Safety in Numbers When Philip entered the ballroom of my lady Dering's house, on Wednesday evening, Lady Malmerstoke had already arrived. Cleone was dancing with Sir Deryk; Jennifer was sitting beside her ladyship, looking very shy and very bewildered. As soon as he could do so, Philip made his way to that end of the room. Lady Malmerstoke welcomed him with a laugh. "Good even, Philip! Have you brought your papa?" Philip shook his head. "He preferred to go to White's with Tom. Jenny, you'll dance with me, will you not? Remember, you promised!" Jennifer raised her eyes. "I--I doubt I--cannot. I--I have danced so few times, sir." "Don't tell me those little feet cannot dance, _chérie_!" Jennifer glanced down at them. "It's monstrous kind of you, Philip--but--but are you sure you want to lead me out?" Philip offered her his arm. "I see you are in a very teasing mood, Jenny," he scolded. Jennifer rose. "Well, I will--but--oh, I am very nervous! I expect you dance so well." "I don't think I do, but I am sure you under-rate your dancing. Let us essay each other!" * * * * *