in beyond their wildest hopes, they
are even now throwing away that priceless heritage of future
generations--the dignity of their mothers. Those stately gentlewomen,
our mothers and our grandmothers, living decorous and well-ordered
lives, busy with manifold duties, wielding an influence impossible to
over-estimate for good to their descendants, their country and the
nation,--they are gone--their example is unheeded--their teaching is
laid aside; but who will make good the loss to children yet unborn?

A log rolled from the fire with a soft crash, and Philippa roused
herself. "Well," she said as she rose, "what is the use of thinking
and wondering. 'Do the thing that's nearest,' which at the moment, my
little dogs, is to go to bed!"

Spiker and Darracq uncurled themselves drowsily and sat up with
questioning eyes. She rang the bell and delivered them into the
butler's care, and then walked slowly up-stairs. The mood of her
musings was still on her, and she was more than a little sleepy.

As she reached the top of the staircase she heard the man turn the
switch, and the hall below her was plunged in sudden darkness. Before
her the long corridor was dimly lighted by a few lights at a long
distance from each other. All was very still. She heard the
swish-swishing of her gown on the thick carpet and that was all. "How
quiet," she thought, "so different from the glare in the passages of
the hotel last night, with its echo of voices and perpetual banging of
doors."

At the end of the gallery she turned to the right, and later to the
right again, and twisting the handle of the first door on the left
opened it wide. Instead of the firelight she expected the room was
brilliantly lighted, and before she could move, a man who was standing
in the centre started forward. His eyes met hers with a look in which
love and longing and rapture were all blended. He moved quickly to her
with outstretched hands. "Phil!" he said, "Phil! dear love! At last!"

CHAPTER III

THE STRANGER

"'Twas strange, 'twas passing strange.
'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful."--_Othello_.

Before Philippa, dazed by the sudden light and the utter unexpectedness
of it all, could collect herself sufficiently to speak, he took both
her hands in his with a movement infinitely tender and possessive, and
drew her further into the room.

"They said you would not come. They lied. I knew they lied. Oh,
Phil! the joy to see yo