"Did I? Well, I do think highly of him, Philippa. And so, after all, you really care for him?"
"I do not think I shall tell you, Norman. You deserve to be kept in the dark. Would you tell me if you found your ideal woman?"
"I would. I would tell you at once," he replied, eagerly.
"If you could but have seen your face!" she cried. "I feel tempted to act the charade over again. Why, Norman, what likeness can you see between Philippa L'Estrange, the proud, cold woman of the world, and that sweet little Puritan maiden at her spinning wheel?"
"I should never have detected any likeness unless you yourself had first pointed it out," he said. "Tell me, Philippa, are you really going to make the duke happy at last?"
"It may be that I am going to make him profoundly miserable As punishment for your lecture, I shall refuse to tell you anything about it," she replied; and then she added: "You will ride with me this morning, Norman?"
"Yes. I will ride with you, Philippa. I cannot tell you how thankful and relieved I am."
"To find that you have not made quite so many conquests as you thought," she said. "It was a sorry jest to play after all; but you provoked me to it, Norman. I want you to make me a promise."
"That I will gladly do," he replied. Indeed he was so relieved so pleased, so thankful to be freed from the load of self-reproach that he would have promised anything.
Her face grew earnest. She held out her hand to him.