"I have never seen the sun shine so brightly before," she said; and Lady Peters sighed as she listened. "The world has never looked so beautiful as it does to-day. Oh, Norman, make, haste! I am longing to see you."
She had a quaint, pretty fashion of calling Lady Peters by the French appellation _maman_. She turned to her now, with a charming smile. She shook out the perfumed folds of her dress--she smoothed the fine white lace.
"You have not told me, _maman_," she said, "whether I am looking my best to-day. I want Norman to be a little surprised when he sees me. If you saw me for the first time to-day, would you think me nice?"
"I should think you the very queen of beauty," was the truthful answer.
A pleased smile curved the lovely, scarlet lips.
"So will Norman. You will see, _maman_, there is no cause for anxiety, none for fear. You will soon be wondering why you looked so grave over my pretty love story."
"It seems to me," observed Lady Peters, "that it is a one sided story. You love him--you consider yourself betrothed to him. What will you say or do, Philippa, if you find that, during his travels, he has learned to love some one else? He has visited half the courts of Europe since he left here; he must have seen some of the loveliest women in the world. Suppose he has learned to love one--what then?"
"What then, _maman_? I know what I should do, even in that case. He belonged to me before he belonged to any one else, and I should try to win him back again."
"He must break his pledge. It would be war to the knife; and I have an idea that in the end I should win."
"But," persisted Lady Peters, "if you lost--what then?"
"Ah, then I could not tell what would happen! Love turns to burning hate at times. If I failed I should seek revenge. But we will not talk of failure. Oh, _maman_, there he is."
How she loved him! At the sound of his footsteps a crimson glow shone in her face, a light shone in the depth of her splendid dark eyes; the scarlet lips trembled. She clenched her fingers lest a sound that might betray her should escape her.
"Lord Arleigh," announced a servant at the door.
Tall, stately, self-possessed, she went forward to greet him. She held out her hand; but words failed her, as she looked once more into the face she loved so well.