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"But why persist in looking at the gloomy side of the picture?" he said
at last. "Suppose she loves you?"
"Suppose an angel flew down from Heaven!" replied Philip, with rather a
sad smile. "My dear fellow, who am I that I should flatter myself so
far? If she were one of those ordinary women to whom marriage is the
be-all and end-all of existence, it would be different--but she is not.
Her thoughts are like those of a child or a poet,--why should I trouble
them by the selfishness of my passion? for all passion _is_ selfish,
even at its best. Why should I venture to break the calm friendship she
may have for me, by telling her of a love which might prove unwelcome!"
Lorimer looked at him with gentle amusement depicted in his face.
"Phil, you are less conceited than I thought you were," he said, with a
light laugh, "or else you are blind--blind as a bat, old man! Take my
advice,--don't lose any more time about it. Make the 'king's daughter of
Norroway' happy, . . ." and a brief sigh escaped him.


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