"Then I thank Heaven for it," he said, "for I have been very unhappy about you. Why did you say so much if you did not mean it, Philippa?"
"Because you annoyed me by pleading the cause of the duke. He had no right to ask you to do such a thing, and you were unwise to essay such a task. I have punished you by mystifying you--I shall next punish him."
"Then you did not mean all that you said?" he interrogated, still wondering at this unexpected turn of events.
"I should have given you credit for more penetration, Norman," she replied. "I to mean such nonsense--I to avow a preference for any man! Can you have been so foolish as to think so? It was only a charade, acted for your amusement."
"Oh, Philippa," he cried, "I am so pleased, dear! And yet--yet, do you know, I wish that you had not done it. It has given me a shock. I shall never be quite sure whether you are jesting or serious. I shall never feel that I really understand you."
"You will, Norman. It did seem so ridiculous for you, my old playfellow, to sit lecturing me so gravely about matrimony. You took it so entirely for granted that I did not care for the duke."
"And do you care for him, Philippa?" he asked.
"Can you doubt it, after the description you gave of him, Norman?"
"You are mocking me again, Philippa," he said.
"But you were very eloquent, Norman," she persisted. "I have never heard any one more so. You painted his Grace of Hazlewood in such glowing colors that no one could help falling in love with him."