From across the room Cleone saw them. She promptly looked away, but contrived, nevertheless, to keep an eye on their movements. She saw Philip presently lead Jenny to a chair and sit talking to her. Then he hailed a passing friend and presented him to Jennifer. Cleone watched him walk across the room to a knot of men. He returned to Jennifer with several of them. Unreasoning anger shook Cleone. Why did Philip care what happened to Jennifer? Why was he so assiduous in his attentions? She told herself she was an ill-natured cat, but she was still angry. From Jennifer Philip went to Ann Nutley. Sir Deryk stopped fanning Cleone. "There he goes! I declare, Philip Jettan makes love to every pretty woman he meets! Just look at them!" Cleone was looking. Her little teeth were tightly clenched. "Mr. Jettan is a flatterer," she said. "Always so abominably French, too. Mistress Ann seems amused. I believe Jettan is a great favourite with the ladies of Paris." Suddenly Cleone remembered that duel that Philip had fought "over the fair name of some French maid." "Yes?" she said carelessly. "Of course, he is very handsome." "Do you think so? Oh, here he comes! Evidently the lovely Ann does not satisfy him.... Your servant, sir!" Philip smiled and bowed. "Mademoiselle, may I have the honour of leading you out?" he asked. Above all, she must not show Philip that she cared what he did. "Oh, I have but this instant sat down!" she said. "I protest I am fatigued and very hot!" "I know of a cool withdrawing-room," said Brenderby at once. "Let me take you to it, fairest!" "It's very kind, Sir Deryk, but I do not think I will go. If I might have a glass of ratafia?" she added plaintively, looking at Philip. For once he was backward in responding. Sir Deryk bowed. "At once, dear lady! I go to procure it!" "Oh, thank you, sir!" This was not what Cleone wanted at all. "Well, Mr. Jettan, you have not yet fled to Paris?" Philip sat down beside her. "No, mademoiselle, not yet. To-night will decide whether I go or stay." His voice was rather stern. "Indeed? How vastly exciting!" "Is it not! I am going to ask you a plain question, Cleone. Will you marry me?" Cleone gasped in amazement. Unreasoning fury shook her. That Philip should dare to come to her straight from the smiles of Ann Nutley! She glanced at him. He was quite solemn. Could it be that he mocked her? She forced herself to speak lightly. "I can hardly suppose that you are serious, sir!" "I am in earnest, Cleone, never more so. We have played at cross-purposes long enough." His voice sent a thrill through her. Almost he was the Philip of Little Fittledean. Cleone forced herself to remember that he was not. "Cross-purposes, sir? I fail to understand you!" "Yes? Have you ever been honest with me, Cleone?" "Have you ever been honest with me, Mr. Jettan?" she said sharply.