He watched her with admiring eyes.
"You look like a picture that I have seen, Philippa," he said.
"What picture ?" she asked, with a smile.
"I cannot tell you, but I am quite sure I have seen one like you.

What picture would you care to resemble ?" A sudden gleam of light came into her dark eyes.
"The one underneath which you would write 'My Queen,'" she said, hurriedly.
He did not understand.
"I think every one with an eye to beauty would call you 'queen,'" he observed, lightly.

The graver meaning of her speech had quite escaped him.
Then Lady Peters returned, and the conversation changed.
"We are going to hear an _opera-bouffe_ to-night," said Philippa, when Lord Arleigh was leaving.

"Will you come and be our escort ?" "You will have a box filled with noisy chatterers the whole night," he remarked, laughingly.
"They shall all make room for you, Norman, if you will come," she said.
"It is 'La Grande Duchesse,' with the far-famed Madame Schneider as her Grace of Gerolstein." "I have not heard it yet," returned Lord Arleigh.

"I cannot say that I have any great admiration for that school of music, but, if you wish it, I will go, Philippa.
"It will increase my enjoyment a hundredfold," she said, gently, "if you go." "How can I refuse when you say that?
I will be here punctually," he promised; and again the thought crossed his mind how true she was to her old friends--how indifferent to new ones! On that evening Philippa changed her customery style of dress--it was no longer the favorite amber, so rich in hue and in texture, but white, gleaming silk, relieved by dashes of crimson.