of will.

He had thought it all over. He remembered well what the duchess had
said about the duke's not caring to hear the matter mentioned. Lord
Arleigh could understand that, with all his gentleness, Hazlewood was a
proud man, and that, if there had been a _mesalliance_ in his family, he
would be the last to wish it discussed. Still Lord Arleigh knew that he
would approve of the marriage. It was plain, however, that it would be
better for it to take place while he was away from England, and then it
would not, could not in any way compromise him. A quiet marriage would
not attract attention.

If he could only win Madeline's consent. She had been so unwilling to
promise him her friendship, and then so unwilling to hear that he loved
her. He could form no idea how she would receive the offer of marriage
that he intended to make her.

That was why he wished to go alone. He would have time and opportunity
then. As for Philippa, he did not fear any real objection from her; if
she once believed or thought that his heart was fixed on marrying
Madaline, he was sure she would help him.

Marry Madaline he must--life was nothing to him without her. He had
laughed at the fever called love. He knew now how completely love had
mastered him. He could think of nothing but Madaline.

He went down to Verdun Royal, heart and soul so completely wrapped in
Madaline that he hardly remembered Philippa--hardly remembered that he
was going as her guest; he was going to woo Madeline--fair, sweet
Madaline--to ask her to be his wife, to try to win her for his own.

It was afternoon when he reached Verdun Royal. The glory of summer was
over the earth. He laughed at himself, for he was nervous and timid; he
longed to see Madaline, yet trembled at the thought of meeting her.

"So this is love?" said Lord Arleigh to himself, with a smile. "I used
to wonder why it made men cowards, and what there was to fear; I can
understand it now."

Then he saw the gray towers and turrets of Verdun Royal rising from the
trees; he thought of his childish visits to the house, and how his
mother taught him to call the child Philippa his little wife. Who would
have thought in those days that Philippa would live to be a duchess, and
that he should so wildly worship, so madly love a fairer, younger face?

He was made welcome at Verdun Royal. Lady Peters received him as though
he were her own son. Then the duchess entered, with a glad light in her
eyes, and a s