She tried to hide her confusion by smiling.
"You should not look at me, Norman," she said, "when I sing; it embarrasses me."
"You should contrive to look a little less beautiful then, Philippa," he rejoined. "What was that last song?"
"It is a new one," she replied, "called 'My Queen.'"
"I should like to read the words," said Lord Arleigh.
In a few minutes she had found it for him, and they bent over the printed page together; her dark hair touched his cheek, the perfume from the white lilies she wore seemed to entrance him; he could not understand the spell that lay over him.
"Yes, beautiful, but ideal; few women, I think, would equal this poet's queen."
"You do not know--you cannot tell, Norman. I think any woman who loves, and loves truly, becomes a queen."
He looked at her, wondering at the passion in her voice--wondering at the expression on her beautiful face.
"You are incredulous," she said; "but it is true. Love is woman's dominion; let her but once enter it, and she becomes a queen; her heart and soul grow grander, the light of love crowns her. It is the real diadem of womanhood, Norman; she knows no other."
He drew back startled; her words seemed to rouse him into sudden consciousness. She was quick enough to see it, and, with the _distrait_ manner of a true woman of the world, quickly changed the subject. She asked some trifling question about Beechgrove, and then said, suddenly:
"I should like to see that fine old place of yours, Norman. I was only ten when mamma took me there the last time; that was rather too young to appreciate its treasures. I should like to see it again."
"I hope you will see it, Philippa; I have many curiosities to show you. I have sent home treasures from every great city I have visited."
She looked at him half wonderingly, half wistfully, but he said no more. Could it be that he had no thought of ever asking her to be mistress and queen of this house of his?
"You must have a party in the autumn," she said. "Lady Peters and I must be among your guests."
"That will be an honor. I shall keep you to your word, Philippa." And then he rose to go.
The dark, wistful eyes followed him. She drew a little nearer to him as he held out his hand to say good-night.