"It was a sorry jest to play after all; but you provoked me to it, Norman.

I want you to make me a promise." "That I will gladly do," he replied.

Indeed he was so relieved so pleased, so thankful to be freed from the load of self-reproach that he would have promised anything.
Her face grew earnest.

She held out her hand to him.
"Promise me this, Norman," she said--"that, whether I remain Philippa L'Estrange or become Duchess of Hazlewood--no matter what I am, or may be--you will always be the same to me as you are now--my brother, my truest, dearest, best friend.

Promise me." "I do promise, Philippa, with all my heart," he responded.