"Shall you go?" she asked of Lord Arleigh.
"I have hardly decided," he replied.
"Do go, Norman; I like waltzing, but I do not care to waltz with every
one. Do go, that I may dance with you."
"You do not mind waltzing with me, then?" he said.
The glance she gave him was answer sufficient. He could not kelp feeling
flattered.
"I shall be there, Philippa," he said; and then she promised herself on
that evening she would try to discover what his sentiments were with
regard to her.
She took great pains with her toilet; she did not wish to startle, but
to attract--and the two things were very different. Her dress looked
brilliant, being of a silvery texture; the trimming was composed of
small fern-leaves; a _parure_ of fine diamonds crowned her head.
The effect of the dress was striking, and Philippa herself had never
looked more lovely. There was a flush of rose-color on her face, a light
in her eyes. If ever woman's face told a story, hers did--if ever love
softened, made more tender and pure any face on earth, it was hers.
After her toilet was complete, she stood for a few minutes looking in
her mirror.
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