a
moment she came back.

"I met James in the hall and sent him off in hot haste," she said. Her
tones showed that she had recovered the equanimity which the girl's
unexpected conduct had disturbed. She seated herself again with no less
complacency and with more deliberation than before.

"I brought you up to be polite, Elizabeth," she said. "Things do
sometimes happen that are very trying, to be sure, but we should not
give way to irritation. Why, where should I have been if I had? Think
how it would have distressed your dear mother to have you show such
temper."

The girl looked up sharply, looked down again, her hands moving faster
than ever, though everything grew indistinct to her for a minute.

"Are you going with me?" she asked after a pause.

"I? O, my dear child, you will not go at all this way. Perhaps it is as
well to pack up and show your dignity, but they will not let you go, you
know, your father's daughter, and all,--I told James to tell them,--it
would be shameful, I should never forgive them."

"The question is whether they will ever forgive me, whether I have not
killed Katie. Sometimes I think of it only that way, and sometimes--."

She was silent again and busy. Then all at once she stopped and walked
to the window. Her hands grasped the sash and she stood looking out at
the sky that had not gathered a cloud from all this darkness of her
life. At length she began to walk up and down as if every footstep took
her away from the house.

"I always thought it must be a dreadful thing to marry a man you did not
want," she said speaking out her thoughts as if alone; "but to marry a
man who does not want you,--that is the most terrible thing in the
world. I have done both." And she covered her face with her hands.

"Poor girl," answered Mrs. Eveleigh, "it _is_ hard. But you gave him as
good as he sent, that's a fact. Governor Wentworth spoke about it after
you left." Elizabeth had raised her head and was looking steadily at her
companion. "When young Archdale looked at you as he passed out, I mean,"
she went on. "'Great Heavens!' cried the Governor, 'did you see that
exchange of looks, scorn and hatred on both sides, and they may be
husband and wife? The Lord pity them. And poor Katie!'"

"He said that?"

"Exactly that. Why, everybody noticed it, of course. What did you say?"
she added at a faint sound from her listener.

"Nothing."

And Elizabeth said nothing until ten minutes later when the