She fought desperately to recover her self-possession and succeeded to
a certain extent, but her hands were so cold that she could hardly feel
the reins, and in her ears there sounded the rushing of great waters.

Step by step the old pony trod down the steep, uneven track, and the
necessity for careful driving seemed sufficient excuse for her
preoccupation.

"We must come here again," said Francis thoughtfully. "It will help me
to remember;" and then, as though his thoughts had gone back to the
scene enacted long ago on the place they had just visited, he added
half to himself, "Dear little girl, with her happy face and clouds of
dark hair under a scarlet cap!"

Philippa suppressed a wild desire to scream aloud. The words were like
a knife turning in her heart at the moment; but to her relief he did
not speak again until they reached the house.

Keen and a footman were waiting for them at the door, and he was
carried up-stairs to rest as usual after his drive. Philippa followed,
and arranged his cushions and attended to his comfort in the way that
had become habitual to her, but she left him as quickly as she could
and sought the privacy of her own room. She wanted to be alone to
battle with the unexpected enemy which had in some unaccountable way
stormed the stronghold of her heart and threatened to lay it in ruins.
The words Marion had spoken--words which had been utterly unheeded at
the time--now battered for admission to the fortress and met with
slight resistance. "His love is not for you--every bit of the love in
his heart belongs to another woman." It was not true! It could not be
true! Francis loved her--now--to-day. What right had the woman who
had failed him to rob her, the living Philippa, of one corner of his
heart? For she wanted it all. She, by right of her love for him,
claimed his every thought, she could not spare one.

Phil had renounced her privilege, had thrown it aside as something of
no value, had broken the tie which bound her to Francis the first
moment that it galled. Could Philippa then be blamed if she had
riveted the chain afresh and possessed herself of what Phil had
discarded as worthless? Surely not. This was a point which Philippa
had considered thoroughly at the time of making her first decision. In
her first interview with Francis she had, as has been stated, blamed
herself for listening to words of love intended for another; but once
she had learned the rights o