“Phil,” Lord Caerleon spoke with tremendous energy, “I am awfully anxious about you. It’s not that I distrust your common-sense, for you are old enough to judge for yourself, nor that I suspect you for a moment of intending to marry for the sake of a crown. But I was talking things over with your mother last night, and she is very much cut up—afraid that your sense of duty will lead you to accept the King. I don’t want to bias you unfairly—we have always prided ourselves on leaving you as free as possible—but you may not have thought what such a marriage would involve. I have tested the delights of royalty, you know, and I felt that I could not stand it alone. With your mother to help me I might have managed it, but—you know how things fell out. I suppose it may be different when you are born to it—I am sure I hope so for the sake of all royal personages—but I am absolutely certain that my little girl could never support such a burden and that of a loveless marriage at the same time. I am only thinking of your happiness, Phil.”
“Oh, father, I know that. But I’m not nearly as good as you and mother think. I never dreamed of accepting the King.”
“Phil, Phil! then why did you take time to consider his offer?”
“Don’t look so miserable, father. Can’t you really guess? It was just after the Queen—Aunt Ernestine, I mean—and I had found out about poor Uncle Cyril. She begged me to keep the King in a good temper, and this was the only way of doing it. And it was quite successful, you see. He has been on his best behaviour the whole time, and everything has gone off well.”
“And now?”
“Oh, now,” Philippa shook herself uncomfortably,—“now I have to pay the bill.”
“I’ll settle matters with the King for you, Phil. It wasn’t like you to do such a thing, and I shall be horribly ashamed, but your intention was good, at any rate.”
“No, father, I won’t put it upon you. I am the sinner, and I must bear the penalty. Yes, I suppose it was rather like doing evil that good might come, wasn’t it? You can’t think how wicked and miserable I have felt, and Usk and—people—have been so horrid, and I couldn’t explain. But you see how it was, don’t you? I would have done anything to help Uncle Cyril.”
“Yes, I see, Phil. But I am more sorry than I can say. I am afraid——”
“Oh, father, don’t say you are disappointed in me, or you’ll break my heart. I don’t care if all the whole world turn their backs upon me, if my own people trust me still—indeed I don’t.”