Sir Maurice and his brother were sitting at breakfast next morning when Philip burst in on them. Tom jumped up and swore. "Damn you, Philip! At this hour!" Philip paid not the slightest heed to him. He grasped his father by the shoulder. "Father, you must to Lady Malmerstoke's house at once!" Sir Maurice ate another mouthful of beef. "Sit down, my son, and be calm. What's to do?" "God alone knows!" cried Philip. He sank into a chair and rejected his uncle's offer of breakfast. "Breakfast? What have I to do with food when I'm nigh demented?" "Drink's the thing," agreed Tom placidly. He pushed a tankard of ale towards his nephew. "What ails you, lad?" "Cleone's betrothed to Brenderby," announced Philip wretchedly. "No!" Tom was dumbfounded. "And to Winton." Philip sought to drown his troubles in the tankard. "What!" Sir Maurice dropped his knife. "Betrothed to Brenderby _and_ Winton? You're raving!" "Would to God I were!" Philip emerged from the tankard, and wiped his lips with his fathers napkin. "I asked her to marry me at the ball last night. She refused; I won't tell you her exact words. Half an hour later I found her kissing _ce scélérat_ Brenderby in a secluded corner!" He laughed savagely. "You mean that Brenderby kissed her?" suggested Tom. "No, I do not! _Voyons_, would he be alive now had he dared embrace Cleone against her will? She submitted--she wished it!" "I'll not believe that!" exclaimed Sir Maurice. "You must believe it. She is betrothed to him. She said it herself. James was with me. He interposed, saying that she was already promised to him." Tom gave a chuckle. "Faith, the child is rich in--" He caught Philips eye and subsided. "Oh, ay, ay! Go on." "I know no more. I deemed it time for me to withdraw." "The proper thing to have done," said Tom solemnly, "was to have struck an attitude and said, 'Not so! The girl is mine!'" "What right had I? I was not amongst the favoured ones." "Don't sneer, Philip," interposed Sir Maurice. "There must be something behind all this." Philip turned to him. "That's what I hope and trust! You must go at once to Lady Malmerstoke's!" His head sank into his hands and he gave way to a gust of laughter. "Oh, Gad! neither would give way an inch. Both held Clo to her promise!" "Ye seem monstrous light-hearted about it," said his uncle. Philip sprang up. "Because I thought that--for one moment--she looked at me for help!" "Which you declined to give?" asked Sir Maurice dryly. "_Mon cher père_, I have my own game to play. Now go to Lady Malmerstoke's, I implore you!" Sir Maurice rose. "I'll go at once. What madness can have seized Cleone?" Philip almost pushed him out of the room. "That is what I want to know. Quickly, Father!" The little black page swung open the door of my lady's boudoir. "Sah Maurice Jettan!" "The very man I wish to see!" exclaimed Lady Malmerstoke. "Maurry, never were you more opportune!"