Part 18 (1/2)
If I love an ideal, it is something like that.”
”And she must be fair, like all the ladies Arleigh, with eyes like the hyacinth, and hair tinged with gold, I suppose, Norman?”
”Yes; I saw a picture once in Borne that realized my notion of true womanly loveliness. It was a very fair face, with something of the innocent wonder of a child mixed with the dawning love and pa.s.sion of n.o.blest womanhood.”
”You admire an _ingenue_. We have both our tastes; mine, if I were a man, would incline more to the brilliant and handsome.”
She would have added more, but at that moment Lady Peters drew aside the silken hanging.
”My dear children,” she said, ”I should ill play my part of chaperon if I did not remind you of the hour. We have been celebrating my birthday, but my birthday is past and gone--it is after midnight.”
Lord Arleigh looked up in wonder.
”After midnight? Impossible! Yet I declare my watch proves that it is.
It is all the fault of the starlight, Lady Peters; you must blame that.”
Lady Peters went out to them.
”I do not wonder at your lingering here,” she said. ”How calm and sweet the night is! It reminds me of the night in 'Romeo and Juliet.' It was on such a night _Jessica_--”
Philippa held up her hands in horror.
”No more poetry to-night, dear Lady Peters; we have had more than enough.”
”Is that true, Lord Arleigh? Have you really had more than enough?”
”I have not found it so,” he replied. ”However, I must go. I wish time would sometimes stand still; all pleasant hours end so soon. Good-night, Lady Peters.”
But that most discreet of _chaperons_ had already re-entered the drawing-room--it was no part of her business to be present when the two friends said good-night.
”Good-night, Philippa,” he said, in a low, gentle voice, bending over her.
The wind stirred her perfumed hair until it touched his cheek, the leaves of the crimson roses fell in a shower around her. She raised her beautiful pale face to his--the unspeakable love, the yearning sorrow on it, moved him greatly. He bent down and touched her brow with his lips.
”Good-night, Philippa, my sister--my friend,” he said.
Even by the faint starlight he saw a change pa.s.s over her face.
”Good-night,” she responded. ”I have more to say to you, but Lady Peters will be horrified if you remain any longer. You will call to-morrow, and then I can finish my conversation?”
”I will come,” he replied, gravely.
He waited a moment to see if she would pa.s.s into the drawing-room before him, but she turned away and leaned her arms on the stone bal.u.s.trade.
It was nearly half an hour afterward when Lady Peters once more drew aside the hangings.
”Philippa,” she said, gently, ”you will take cold out there.”