the handsome face, in the high-bred manner and bearing, but not of a
common kind.

In accordance with his late father's wish, he had gone through the usual
course of studies. He had been to Eton and to Oxford; he had made the
usual continental tour; and now he had returned to live as the Arleighs
had done before him--a king on his own estate. There was just one thing
in his life that had not pleased him. His mother, Lady Arleigh, had
always evinced the greatest affection for her cousin, the gentle Lady
L'Estrange. She had paid long visits to Verdun Royal, always taking her
son with her; and his earliest recollection was of his mother and Lady
L'Estrange sitting side by side planning the marriage of their two
children, Philippa and Norman. He could remember many of his mother's
pet phrases--"So suitable," "A perfect marriage," "The desire of my
heart." All his mother's thoughts and ideas seemed to begin and end
there. He had been taught, half seriously, half in jest, to call
Philippa his little wife, to pay her every attention, to present her
with jewels and with flowers, to make her his chief study. While be was
still a boy he had only laughed at it.

Philippa was a beautiful, high-sprited girl. Her vivacity and animation
amused him. He had spoken the truth in saying that he had met no one he
liked better than his old friend. He had seen beautiful girls, lovely
women, but he had not fallen in love. Indeed, love with the Arleighs was
a serious matter. They did not look lightly upon it. Norman. Lord
Arleigh, had not fallen; in love, but he had begun to think very
seriously about Philippa L'Estrange. He had been fond of her as a child,
with the kind of affection that often exists between children. He had
called her his "little wife" in jest, not in earnest. He had listened to
the discussions between the two ladies as he would have listened had