"I cannot tell you. I have heard you say that love is fate. I should
imagine it must be because the Duke of Hazlewood is not my fate."
He did not know what answer to make to that, it was so entirely his own
way of thinking.
"But, Philippa," he resumed after a pause, "do you not think that you
might love him if you tried?"
"I have never thought about it," was the quiet reply.
Lord Arleigh continued:
"In my idea he is one of the most charming men in England; I have never
seen a more perfect type of what an English gentleman should be--he is
noble, generous, brave, chivalrous. What fault do you find with him,
Philippa?"
"I?" she asked, looking up at him in wonder. "My dear Norman, I have
never found fault with the duke in my life."
"Then why can you not love him?"
"That is a very different thing. I find no fault with him; on the
contrary, I agree with you that he is one of the noblest of men, yet I
have never thought of marrying him."
"But, Philippa"--and with kindly impressiveness he laid one hand on her
shoulder--"why do you not think of marrying him? Between you and myself
there can be no compliments, no flattery.
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