Tall, stately, self-possessed, she went forward to greet him. She held out her hand; but words failed her, as she looked once more into the face she loved so well.
"Philippa!" cried the visitor, in tones of wonder. "I expected to find you changed, but I should not have known you."
"Am I so greatly altered?" she asked.
"Altered?" he repeated, "I left you a pretty school-girl--I find you a queen." He bowed low over the white hand.
"The queen bids you welcome," she said, and then after introducing Lady Peters, she added: "Should you not really have known me, Norman?"
He had recovered from his first surprise, and Lady Peters, who watched him closely, fancied that she detected some little embarrassment in his manner. Of one thing she was quite sure--there was admiration and affection in his manner, but there was nothing resembling love.
He greeted her, and then took a seat, not by Philippa's side, but in one of the pretty lounging chairs by the open window.
"How pleasant it is to be home again!" he said. "How pleasant, Philippa, to see you!" And then he began to talk of Lady L'Estrange. "It seems strange," he went on, "that your mother and mine, after being such true friends in life, should die within a few days of each other. I would give the whole world to see my mother again. I shall find Beechgrove so lonely without her."
"I always recognize a good man," put in Lady Peters, "by the great love he bears his mother."
Lord Arleigh smiled.