"At Williamsburg, madam." "And never at Shadynook?" "I was informed that you had gone home." "Yes, so I did. But then if you had much--friendship for me, I think you might have followed me." Mowbray was so much moved by the fascinating glance which accompanied these words, that he could only murmur: "Follow you, madam?" "Yes; I believe when gentlemen have friends--particular friends among the ladies, and those friends leave them, they go to seek them." "I am unfortunately a poor law student, madam--I have little time for visits." Philippa smiled. "I am afraid that is an evasion, sir," she said. "How, madam?" "The true reason I fear is, that the rule I have spoken of does not apply to you and myself." "The rule----?" "That we follow our particular friends--or rather that the gentlemen do. I fear you do not regard me in that light." Mowbray could only say: "Why should I not, madam?" Philippa paused for a moment; and then said, smiling: "Shall I tell you?" "Yes." "I fancy then that something which I said in our last interview offended you." This was a home thrust, and Mowbray could not reply. "Answer," she said; "did you not come away from that interview thinking me very rude, very unladylike, very affected and unlovely? did you not cordially determine never to think of me again--and have you not kept that resolution?" "No, madam," said Mowbray, replying by evasion to the last clause of the sentence. Philippa pouted. "Mr. Mowbray," she said, "you are very cold. I believe I have left at least a dozen gallant wits to give you my whole attention, and you reply to me in monosyllables." Mowbray felt his heart wounded by these words, which were uttered with as much feeling as annoyance, and replied: "I should not have accepted your proposal, madam; it was selfish. I am not in very excellent spirits this evening, and fear that I shall not be able to entertain you. Pardon my dulness." "No, I will not. You can be just as agreeable as you choose, and you will not." Mowbray found himself smiling at these words, and said: "Perhaps, then, if you will ask me some more questions, madam, I may reply in something more than monosyllables." "Well then, sir, are you going to the May-day party at Shadynook?" "I do not know--yes, I suppose, however. I have promised." "Then Miss Lucy will wish to have you." "Yes--well, I shall go." "I am very glad!" said Philippa. Mowbray could not explain the happiness he felt: all his coldness and doubt seemed to be passing away in presence of this young girl, who gave him such winning smiles, and so obstinately refused to observe his constraint. He had spoken truly to Hoffland; he was in love, and he had no longer any command over himself. He banished the thought that she was playing with his feelings, as soon as it occurred, and gave himself up to the intoxicating happiness which he experienced in her presence. "You will also come to the party, will you not?" he said, smiling.