The duke even flattered himself that he was making some progress,
because at some chance word from him the beautiful face flushed a deep
crimson. How was he to know that Lord Arleigh had at that moment entered
the room?

The latter could not help feeling pleased and flattered at the way in
which Philippa received him. He was but mortal, and he could not help
seeing the dark eyes shine, the scarlet lips tremble, the whole face
soften. Presently she placed her hand on his arm, and walked away with
him.

"I was growing impatient, Norman," she said; and then, remembering his
criticisms on the wooing of women, she hastened to add--"impatient at
the want of novelty; it seems to me that in London ball-rooms all the
men talk in the same fashion."

Lord Arleigh laughed.

"What are they to do, Philippa?" he asked. "They have each one the same
duties to perform--to please their partners and amuse themselves. You
would not have a 'hapless lordling' talk about science or metaphysics
while he danced, would you?"

"No; but they might find some intelligent remarks to make. You talk
well, Norman, and listening to you makes me impatient with others."

"You are very kind," he said, and he took the pretty tablets from her
hand.

"You have saved every waltz for me, Philippa. I shall expect to have a