Wife in Name Only Part 7

"Your anxiety about him would be very flattering to him if he knew it,"

remarked the elder lady.

"Why should I not be anxious? I have always loved him better than the whole world. I have had reason to be anxious."

"Philippa, my dear Philippa, I would not say such things if I were you, unless I had heard something really definite from himself."

The beautiful young heiress laughed a bright, triumphant laugh.

"Something definite from himself! Why, you do not think it likely that he will long remain indifferent to me, even if he be so now--which I do not believe."

"I have had so many disappointments in life that I am afraid of being sanguine," said Lady Peters; and again the young beauty laughed.

"It will seem so strange to see him again. I remember his going away so well. I was very young then--I am young now, but I feel years older. He came down to Verdun Royal to bid us good-by, and I was in the grounds.

He had but half an hour to stay, and mamma sent him out to me,"

The color deepened in her face as she spoke, and the light shone in her splendid eyes--there was a kind of wild, restless pa.s.sion in her words.

"I remember it all so well! There had been a heavy shower of rain in the early morning, that had cleared away, leaving the skies blue, the sunshine golden, while the rain-drops still glistened on the trees and the gra.s.s. I love the sweet smell of the green leaves and the moist earth after rain. I was there enjoying it when he came to say good-by to me--mamma came with him. 'Philippa,' she said, 'Norman is going; he wants to say good-by to his little wife.' He always calls me his little wife. I saw him look very grave. She went away and left us together.

'You are growing too tall to be called my little wife, Philippa,' she said, and I laughed at his gravity. We were standing underneath a great flowering lilac-tree--the green leaves and the sweet flowers were still wet with the rain. I remember it so well! I drew one of the tall fragrant sprays down, and shaking the rain-drops from it, kissed it. I can smell the rich, moist odor now. I never see a lilac-spray or smell its sweet moisture after rain but that the whole scene rises before me again--I see the proud, handsome face that I love so dearly, the clear skies and the green trees. 'How long shall you be away, Norman?' asked him. 'Not more than two years,' he replied. 'You will be quite a brilliant lady of fashion when I return, Philippa; you will have made conquests innumerable.' 'I shall always be the same to you,' I replied; but he made no answer. He took the spray of lilac from my hands. 'My ideas of you will always be a.s.sociated with lilacs,' he said; and that is why, Lady Peters, I ordered the vases to be filled with lilacs to-day. He bent down and kissed my face. 'Good-by, Philippa,' he said, 'may I find you as good and as beautiful as I leave you.' And then he went away. That is just two years ago; no wonder that I am pleased at his return."

Lady Peters looked anxiously at her.

"There was no regular engagement between you and Lord Arleigh, was there, Philippa?"

"What do you call a regular engagement?" said the young heiress. "He never made love to me, if that is what you mean--he never asked me to be his wife; but it was understood--always understood."

"By whom?" asked Lady Peters.

"My mother and his. When Lady Arleigh lived, she spent a great deal of time at Verdun Royal with my mother; they were first cousins, and the dearest of friends. Hundreds of times I have seen them sitting on the lawn, while Norman and I played together. Then they were always talking about the time we should be married. 'Philippa will make a beautiful Lady Arleigh,' his mother used to say. 'Norman, go and play with your little wife,' she would add; and with all the gravity of a grown courtier, he would bow before me and call me his little wife."

"But you were children then, and it was perhaps all childish folly."

"It was nothing of the kind," said the heiress, angrily. "I remember well that, when I was presented, my mother said to me, 'Philippa, you are sure to be very much admired; but remember, I consider you engaged to Norman. Your lot in life is settled; you are to be Lady Arleigh of Beechgrove.'"

"But," interposed Lady Peters, "it seems to me, Philippa, that this was all your mother's fancy. Because you played together as children--because, when you were a child he called you his little wife--because your mother and his were dear friends, and liked the arrangement--it does not follow that he would like it, or that he would choose the playmate of his childhood as the love of his manhood. In all that you have said to me, I see no evidence that he loves you, or that he considers himself in any way bound to you."

"That is because you do not understand. He has been in England only two days, yet, you see, he comes to visit me."

"That may be for old friendship's sake," said Lady Peters. "Oh, my darling, be careful! Do not give the love of your heart and soul for nothing."

"It is given already," confessed the girl, "and can never be recalled, no matter what I get in return. Why, it is twenty minutes past three; do you think he will come?"

Philippa L'Estrange rose from the couch and went to the long open window.

"I have never seen the sun shine so brightly before," she said; and Lady Peters sighed as she listened. "The world has never looked so beautiful as it does to-day. Oh, Norman, make, haste! I am longing to see you."

She had a quaint, pretty fashion of calling Lady Peters by the French appellation _maman_. She turned to her now, with a charming smile. She shook out the perfumed folds of her dress--she smoothed the fine white lace.

"You have not told me, _maman_," she said, "whether I am looking my best to-day. I want Norman to be a little surprised when he sees me. If you saw me for the first time to-day, would you think me nice?"

"I should think you the very queen of beauty," was the truthful answer.

A pleased smile curved the lovely, scarlet lips.

"So will Norman. You will see, _maman_, there is no cause for anxiety, none for fear. You will soon be wondering why you looked so grave over my pretty love story."

"It seems to me," observed Lady Peters, "that it is a one sided story.

You love him--you consider yourself betrothed to him. What will you say or do, Philippa, if you find that, during his travels, he has learned to love some one else? He has visited half the courts of Europe since he left here; he must have seen some of the loveliest women in the world.

Suppose he has learned to love one--what then?"

The beautiful face darkened.

"What then, _maman_? I know what I should do, even in that case. He belonged to me before he belonged to any one else, and I should try to win him back again."

"But if his word were pledged?"

"He must break his pledge. It would be war to the knife; and I have an idea that in the end I should win."

"But," persisted Lady Peters, "if you lost--what then?"

"Ah, then I could not tell what would happen! Love turns to burning hate at times. If I failed I should seek revenge. But we will not talk of failure. Oh, _maman_, there he is."

How she loved him! At the sound of his footsteps a crimson glow shone in her face, a light shone in the depth of her splendid dark eyes; the scarlet lips trembled. She clenched her fingers lest a sound that might betray her should escape her.

"Lord Arleigh," announced a servant at the door.

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 embarra.s.sment 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.

"Then you think I am a good man?" he interrogated. "I hope, Lady Peters, that I shall never forfeit your good opinion."

"I do not think it likely," said her ladyship.