"Richard is my twin
brother, he is the dearest thing in life to me. Can't you realise,
though, that what you ask of us is treason?"
"It really doesn't amount to that," Lessingham assured her. "In my
own heart I feel convinced that I have come here on a fool's errand.
No object that I could possibly attain in this neighbourhood is
worth the life of a man like Richard Felstead."
"Oh, he's right!" Helen exclaimed. "Think, Philippa! What is there
here which the whole world might not know? There are no secrets in
Dreymarsh. We are miles away from everywhere. For my sake,
Philippa, I implore you not to be unreasonable."
"In plain words," Lessingham intervened, "do not be quixotic, Lady
Cranston. There is just an idea on one side, your brother's life
on the other. You see, the scales do not balance."
"Can't you realise, though," Philippa answered, "what that idea
means? It is part of one's soul that one gives when one departs
from a principle."
"What are principles against love?" Helen demanded, almost fiercely.
"A sister may prate about them, Philippa. A wife couldn't. I'd
sacrifice every principle I ever had, every scrap of self-respect,
myself and all that belongs to me, to save Dick's life!"
There was a brief, throbbing silence. Helen was feverishly clutching
Philippa's hand. Lessingham's eyes were fixed upon the tortured face
into which he gazed.
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