eemed to identify her
interests with his. But all this might be the result of their old
friendship--it might have nothing to do with love.

Could it be possible that she still remembered the childish nonsense
that had passed between them--that she considered either herself or him
bound by a foolish tie that neither of them had contracted? Could it be
possible that she regarded herself as engaged to him? The bare idea of
it seemed absurd to him; he could not believe it. Yet many little things
that he could not explain to himself made him feel uncomfortable and
anxious. Could it be that she, the most beautiful and certainly the most
popular woman in London, cared so much for him as to hold him by so
slender a tie as their past childish nonsense?

He reproached himself for the thought, yet, do what he would, he could
not drive it away. The suspicion haunted him; it made him miserable. If
it was really so, what was he to do?

He was a gentleman, not a coxcomb. He could not go to this fair woman
and ask her if it was really true that she loved him, if she really
cared for him, if she held him by a tie contracted in childhood. He
could not do it. He had not sufficient vanity. Why should he think that
Philippa, who had some of the noblest men in England at her feet--why
should life think that she would renounce all her brilliant prospects
for him? Yet, if the mistake had really occurred--if she really thought
the childish nonsense binding--if she really believed that he was about
to make her his wife--it was high time that she was undeceived, that she
knew the truth. And the truth was that although he had a great liking, a
kindly affection for her, he was not in love with her. He admired her
beauty--nay, he went further; he thought her the most beautiful woman he
had ever seen, the most gifted, the most graceful. But he was not in
love with her--never would be. She was not his type of woman, not his
ideal. If she had been his sister, he would have loved her
exceedingly--a brotherly affection was what he felt for her.

Yet how could he go to this fair woman with the ungracious words that he
did not love her, and had no thought of marrying her? His face flushed
hotly at the thought--there was something in it against which his whole
manhood rose in hot rebellion Still it must be done; there must be no
such shadow between them as this--there must be no such fatal mistake.
If the report of their approaching marriage were allowed