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Page 54
"I hope he is a little, my dear," was the smiling reply. "I'm
sure I've tried my best."
"Won't you talk seriously?" Helen pleaded.
"I don't altogether see the necessity," Philippa protested.
"I do, and I'll tell you why," Helen answered. "I don't think Mr.
Lessingham is at all the type of man to which you are accustomed.
I think that he is in deadly earnest about you. I think that he
was in deadly earnest from the first. You don't really care for
him, do you, dear?"
"Very much, and yet not, perhaps, quite in the way you are thinking
of," was the quiet reply.
"Then please send him away," Helen begged.
"My dear, how can I?" Philippa objected. "He has done us an
immense service, and he can't disobey his orders."
"You don't want him to go away, then?"
Philippa was silent for several moments. "No," she admitted, "I
don't think that I do."
"You don't care for Henry any more?"
"Just as much as ever," was the somewhat bitter reply. "That's what
I resent so much. I should like Henry to believe that he had killed
every spark of love in me."
Helen moved across and sat on the arm of her friend's chair. She
felt that she was going to be very daring.
"Have you any idea at the hack of your mind, dear," she asked "of
making use of Mr. Lessingham to punish Henry?"
Philippa moved a little uneasily.
"How hatefully downright you are!" she murmured. "I don't know."
"Because," Helen continued, "if you have any such idea in your mind,
I think it is most unfair to Mr. Lessingham. You know perfectly
well that anything else between you and him would be impossible."
"And why?"
"Don't be ridiculous!" Helen exclaimed vigorously. "Mr. Lessingham
may have all the most delightful qualities in the world, but he has
attached himself to a country which no English man or woman will be
able to think of without shuddering, for many years to come. You
can't dream of cutting yourself adrift from your friends and your
home and your country! It's too unnatural! I'm not even arguing
with you, Philippa. You couldn't do it! I'm wholly concerned with
Mr. Lessingham. I cannot forget what we owe him. I think it
would be hatefully cruel of you to spoil his life."
Philippa's flashes of seriousness were only momentary. She made a
little grimace. She was once more her natural, irresponsible self.
"You underrate my charm, Helen," she declared. "I really believe
that I could make his life instead of spoiling it."
"And you would pay the price?"
Philippa, slim and elflike in the firelight, rose from her chair.
There was a momentary cruelty in her face.
"I sometimes think," she said calmly, "that I would pay any price
in the world to make Henry understand how I feel. There, now run
along, dear. You're full of good intentions, and don't think it
horrid of me, but nothing that you could say would make any
difference."
"You wouldn't do anything rash?" Helen pleaded.
"Well, if I run away with Mr. Lessingham, I certainly can't promise
that I'll send cards out first. Whatever I do, impulse will probably
decide."
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