He looked at the bright face; the dark eyes met his, but he read no secret in them.
"Philippa," he said, suddenly, "the water looks very tempting--would you like a row ?" "Above everything else," she replied.

And they went off in the little pleasure-boat together.
It was a miniature lake, tall trees bordering it and dipping their green branches into the water.

The sun shone on the feathered spray that fell from the sculls, the white swans raised their graceful heads as the little boat passed by, and Philippa lay back languidly, watching the shadow of the trees.

Suddenly an idea seemed to occur to her.

She looked at Lord Arleigh.
"Norman," she said, "let the boat drift--I want to talk to you, and I cannot while you are rowing." He rested on his sculls, and the boat drifted under the drooping branches of a willow-tree.