"Yes," laughed the heiress; "the world is very sweet to me just now,
Norman; but I will give up my ball and stay at home purposely to sing to
you, if you will dine with us."

"That is a temptation I cannot resist," he returned. "I will come. All
your disappointed partners will, however, vent their wrath on me,
Philippa."

"I can bear it," she said, "and so can you. Now I can let you go more
willingly, seeing that I shall soon see you again."

And then he went away. After he had gone she spoke but little; once she
clasped her arms round Lady Peters' neck and kissed the kindly face.

"Do not speak to me," she said, "lest I should lose the echo of his
voice;" and Lady Peters watched her anxiously, as she stood with a rapt
smile on her face, as of one who has heard celestial music in a dream.

* * * * *

The Arleighs of Beechgrove had for many generations been one of the
wealthiest as well as one of the noblest families in England. To Norman,
Lord Arleigh, who had succeeded his father at the early age of twenty,
all this good gift of fame, fortune, and wealth had now fallen. He had
inherited also the far-famed Arleigh beauty. He had clear-cut features,
a fair skin, a fine manly frame, a broad chest, and erect, military
bearing; he had dark hair and eyes, with straight, clear brows, and a
fine, handsome mouth, shaded by a dark mustache Looking at him it was
easy to understand his character. There was pride in the dark eyes, in