“I know,” he said, “that no one has so much influence over her as you.  I do not believe in the absurd stores told about an engagement between you, but I see plainly that she is your friend, and that you are hers; and I want you to use your influence with her in my favor.”

Lord Arleigh promised to do so—­and he intended to keep his promise; they were on such intimate and friendly terms that he could venture upon saying anything of that kind to her.  She would not be displeased—­on the contrary, she would like his advice; it might even be that before now she had wished to ask for it, but had not liked to do so—­so completely did these two play at cross-purposes and misunderstand each other.

It was easier to say to himself that he would speak to her as the duke wished than to do it.  He saw that any allusion to her lovers or admirers made her ill at ease—­she did not like it; even his laughing comments on the homage paid to her did not please her.

“I do not like lovers,” she said to him one day, “and I am tired of admirers—­I prefer friends.”

“But,” he opposed, laughingly, “if all that wise men and philosophers[2] tell us is correct, there are no true friends.”

He never forgot the light that shone in her face as she raised it to his.

“I do not believe that,” she returned; “there are true friends—­you are one to me.”

The tenderness of her manner struck him forcibly.  Something kinder and softer stirred in his heart than had ever stirred before for her; he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.

“You are right, Philippa” he said.  “If ever a woman had a true, stanch friend, I am and will be one to you.”

From her heart to her lips rose the words:  “Shall you never be more?” Perhaps even her eyes asked the question more eloquently than her lips could have done, for his face flushed, and she turned away with some slight embarrassment.

“I shall try and keep your friendship,” she said; “but that will be easily done, Norman.”

“Yes,” he replied; “one of the traditions of our house is ’truth in friendship, trust in love, honor in war.’  To be a true friend and a noble foe is characteristic of the Arleighs.”

“I hope that you will never be a foe of mine,” she rejoined, laughingly.  And that evening, thinking over the events of the day she flattered herself that she had made some little progress after all.

Chapter XIII.

The opportunity that Lord Arleigh looked for came at last.  Philippa had some reason to doubt the honesty of a man whom she had been employing as agent.  She was kind of heart, and did not wish to punish him, yet she felt sure that he had not done his duty by her.  To speak to her solicitors about it would be, she felt, injurious to him, whether innocent or guilty.  If innocent, it would create a prejudice against him; if guilty, they would wish to punish him.  She resolved upon laying the matter before Lord Arleigh, and seeing what he thought of it.