en they became warm
friends. The duke confided in Lord Arleigh--he told him the whole story
of his love for Miss L'Estrange.

"I know," he said, "that no one has so much influence over her as you. I
do not believe in the absurd stores told about an engagement between
you, but I see plainly that she is your friend, and that you are hers;
and I want you to use your influence with her in my favor."

Lord Arleigh promised to do so--and he intended to keep his promise;
they were on such intimate and friendly terms that he could venture upon
saying anything of that kind to her. She would not be displeased--on the
contrary, she would like his advice; it might even be that before now
she had wished to ask for it, but had not liked to do so--so completely
did these two play at cross-purposes and misunderstand each other.

It was easier to say to himself that he would speak to her as the duke
wished than to do it. He saw that any allusion to her lovers or admirers
made her ill at ease--she did not like it; even his laughing comments on
the homage paid to her did not please her.

"I do not like lovers," she said to him one day, "and I am tired of
admirers--I prefer friends."

"But," he opposed, laughingly, "if all that wise men and philosophers[2]
tell us is correct, there are no true friends."

He never forgot the light that shone in her face as she raised it to
his.

"I do not believe that," she returned; "there are true friends--you are
one to me."

The tenderness of her manner struck him forcibly. Something kinder and
softer stirred in his heart than had ever stirred before for her; he
raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.

"You are right, Philippa" he said. "If ever a woman had a true, stanch
friend, I am and will be one to you."

From her heart to her lips rose the words: "Shall you never be more?"
Perhaps even her eyes asked the question more eloquently than her lips
could have done, for his face flushed, and she turned away with some
slight embarrassment.

"I shall try and keep your friendship," she said; "but that will be
easily done, Norman."

"Yes," he replied; "one of the traditions of our house is 'truth in
friendship, trust in love, honor in war.' To be a true friend and a
noble foe is characteristic of the Arleighs."

"I hope that you will never be a foe of mine," she rejoined, laughingly.
And that evening, thinking over the events of the day she flattered
herself that she had made some little