“Very well, dear; only, don’t crow till you are out of the woods.  Would you like to have me receive him with you?”

Elizabeth hesitated.

“No.  I thank you,” she said.  “You are very kind, but perhaps it would be better to go by myself.”

“As you like.”  And Mrs. Eveleigh’s pride laid a strong hand upon her swelling curiosity, so that with an indifference well acted she sat down to her work.  But as she lost the sound of Elizabeth’s step on the stairs she rose again and looked breathlessly over the banisters, trying to catch the greeting that went on in the room below.  But either through accident, or because the girl knew the character of her companion, the door closed behind Elizabeth, and Mrs. Eveleigh heard nothing.  If she had done so, the greeting was so simple that she would have gained from it no clue of what was to follow.  Archdale came forward, bowed low, and held out his hand to her as simply as Katie’s husband might have greeted Katie’s friend, and possibly have brought her some message.  Elizabeth felt this as she laid her hand in his for a moment, a smile of relief and anticipation came over her face; and in reply to his question she answered:  “Yes, we are all well, thank you.”  It was after the first moment that the embarrassment began, when at her look of hope and questioning his eyes fell a moment, and when raised again gave no answer to it.  Both realized then how hard fate had been to them.  But even yet Elizabeth would not quite give up the cause.  She steadied herself a little by her hand on the back of the chair before she sat down in it, asking with the smile still on her lips, but not spontaneous as before.

“You have brought good news?”

“No,” he said.  “I am afraid you will not call it good news.”  He looked away as he spoke, but after a moment turned toward her, and their eyes met.  Each read the meaning in the other’s face too plainly to make reserve as to the real state of things possible.  “The cause of all this cruel delay is explained at last,” he went on.  “The Sea-Gull on her way back to England was wrecked.  All Bolston’s papers are lost.  He had a fever brought on by cold and exposure, and after he had lain for weeks in an Irish inn, he waked into life with scarcely his sense of identity come back to him.  He writes that he has begun to recover himself, however, and that by the time we send the papers again, new copies, he shall be able to attend to the business as well as ever.  For our work, he might as well be at the bottom of the sea.”

Elizabeth turned pale.

“When did you learn this?” she asked.

“A fortnight ago.  I ought to have told you of it before, but I hated to pain you.”

She looked at him firmly.  Then smiled a little through her paleness.

“Yes, it does pain me,” she said.  “But I don’t despair.  We are not married, you and I, Mr. Archdale, and I wish Katie would throw aside her nonsensical scruples.  What matter whether Mr. Harwin was a minister?  Why will she not let it go that it was all fun, and marry you?  I think she ought.”