“Do you think so highly of me, Madaline?” asked Philippa, sadly.

“Think highly of you!  Why, you would laugh if you knew how I loved you—­how I adore you.  If all the world were to swear to me that you could do the least thing wrong, I should not believe them.”

“Poor child!” said the duchess, sadly.

“Why do you call me ‘poor child?’” she asked, laughingly.

“Because you have such implicit faith, and are sure to be so cruelly disappointed.”

“I would rather have such implicit faith, and bear the disappointment, than be without both,” said Madaline.

Chapter XIX.

On the day of his departure the duke had said to his wife:  “I have invited Norman to spend a few weeks with you; have some pleasant people to meet him.  He tells me he shall not go to Scotland this year.”

“I will ask Miss Byrton and Lady Sheldon,” Philippa had promised.

“Only two ladies!” the duke had laughed.  “He will want some one to smoke his cigar with.”

“I will trust to some happy inspiration at the time, then,” she had replied; and they had not mentioned the matter again.

Early in August Lord Arleigh wrote that if it were convenient he should prefer paying his promised visit at once.  He concluded his letter by saying: 

“My dear Philippa, your kind, good husband has said something to me about meeting a pleasant party.  I should so much prefer one of my old style visits—­no parties, no ceremonies.  I want to see you and Verdun Royal, not a crowd of strange faces.  Lady Peters is chaperon, if you have any lingering doubt about the ‘proprieties.’”

So it was agreed that he should come alone, and later on, if the duchess cared to invite more friends, she could do so.

The fact was that Lord Arleigh wanted time for his wooing.  He had found that he could not live without Madaline.  He had thought most carefully about everything, and had decided on asking her to be his wife.  True, there was the drawback of her parentage—­but that was not grievous, not so terrible.  Of course, if she had been lowly-born—­descended from the dregs of the people, or the daughter of a criminal—­he would have trampled his love under foot.  He would have said to himself “Noblesse oblige,” and rather than tarnish the honor of his family, he would have given her up.

This was not needed.  Related to the Duke of Hazlewood, there could not be anything wrong.  The duchess had told him distinctly that Madaline’s mother had married beneath her, and that the whole family on that account had completely ignored her.  He did not remember that the duchess had told him so in as many words, but he was decidedly of the opinion that Madaline’s mother was a cousin of the duke’s, and that she had married a drawing-master, who had afterward turned out wild and profligate.  The drawing-master was dead.  His darling Madaline