care about it. Shall we give it up?"

They talked for a few minutes about it, and then the duchess said,
suddenly:

"What do you think about my roses, Norman?"

"They are wonderful," he replied, and then, in a low voice, he asked,
"Philippa, who is that beautiful girl out there among your flowers?"

She did not smile, but a sudden light came into her eyes.

"It would be a great kindness not to tell you," she answered. "You see
what comes of trespassing in forbidden places. I did not intend you to
see that young lady."

"Why not?" he asked, abruptly.

"The answer to your question would be superfluous," she replied.

"But, Philippa, tell me at least who she is."

"That I cannot do," she replied, and then the magnificent face was
lighted with a smile. "Is she your ideal woman, Norman?" she asked.

"My dear Philippa," he answered, gravely, "she is the idea," woman
herself neither more nor less."

"Found at last!" laughed the duchess. "For all that, Norman, you must
not look it her."