He was half smiling as he spoke, but she took every word in serious
earnest.

"Philippa," he continued, "why do you not marry? A husband would save
you all this trouble; he would attend to your affairs, and shield you
from annoyances of this kind."

"The answer to your question, 'Why do I not marry?' Would form a long
story," she replied, and then she turned the conversation.

But he was determined to keep his word, and pleaded with her for the
duke. Another opportunity came that evening. It was Lady Peters'
birthday, and Philippa had invited some of her most intimate friends;
not young people, but those with whom she thought her _chaperon_ would
enjoy herself best. The result was a very pleasant dinner-party,
followed by a very pleasant evening. Lord Arleigh could not be absent,
for it was, in some measure, a family _fête_.

The guests did not remain very late, and Lady Peters, professing herself
tired with the exertions she had made, lay down on a couch, and was soon
asleep. Philippa stood by the window with the rose-silk hangings drawn.

"Come out on the balcony," she said to Lord Arleigh, "the room is very
warm."

It was night, but the darkness was silver-gray, not black. The sky above
was brilliant with the gleam of a thousand stars, the moon was shining
behind some silvery clouds, the great masses of foliage in the park were
just stirred with the whisper of the night, and sweetest odors came from
heliotrope and mignonnette; the brooding silence of the summer night lay