Tall and slender, she
stood before a large plant with scarlet blossoms when he came in.
Lord Arleigh looked as he felt--ill at ease. He had not slept through
thinking of the conversation in the balcony--it had made him profoundly
wretched. He would have given much not to renew it; but she had asked
him to come, and he had promised.
Would she receive him with tears and reproaches? Would she cry out that
he was cold and cruel? Would she torture himself and herself by trying
to find out why he did not love her? Or would she be sad, cold, and
indifferent?
His relief was great when she raised a laughing, radiant face to his and
held out her hand in greeting.
"Good-morning, Norman," she said, in a pleasant voice. "Now confess that
I am a clever actress, and that I have given you a real fright."
He looked at her in wonder.
"I do not understand you," he returned.
"It is so easy to mislead a man," she said, laughingly.
"I do not understand, Philippa," he repeated.
"Did you really take all my pretty balcony scene in earnest last night?"
she asked.
"I did indeed," he replied; and again the clear musical laugh, seemed to
astonish him.
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