The war had been talked about all the autumn.  It was a terrible necessity, but this new direction that it was to take was something worth pondering over.

Elizabeth naturally, took large views of things, and, as her father’s companion, she had not learned to restrict them.  But, also, for the last months she had perceived dimly that there was a power within her which might never be called into action.  And this power rose, sometimes, with vehemence against the monotony of her surroundings, in the midst of her wealth of comforts and of affection.

It was the last of November, only two days after this conversation, that Stephen Archdale was announced.

“He has come to tell me the decision,” said Elizabeth to Mrs. Eveleigh; “he promised he would come immediately.  It’s good news.”

“Then what makes you so pale?  And you’re actually trembling.”

Elizabeth looked at her companion in surprise, for all her years of acquaintance with her.

“Don’t you understand?” she said.  “The strain is to be taken off.  The certainty must be good; and yet there is the possibility that it is not.  This and the thought that the moment has come make me tremble.”

As she was speaking she moved away and in another moment was in the drawing-room with Archdale.

“You have brought me word,” she said, as soon as her greeting was over.  “You have good news; I see it in your eyes.”

“Yes,” he answered.  “I suppose you will call it good news.  You are free; you are still Mistress Royal.”

She clasped her hands impulsively, and retreated a few steps.  It seemed to him as he watched her that her first emotion was a thankfulness as deep as a prayer.  He saw that she could not speak.  Then she came up to him holding out both her hands.

“Never was any one so welcome to me as you with your words this morning,” she said.  “I have not spoiled your life and Katie’s.”

“And you are free,” he said again.

“Yes,” she repeated, “I am free.”  And as she drew away her hands she made a movement almost imperceptible and instantly checked, as if she had thrown off some heavy weight.  He read it, however, as he stood there with his eyes upon her face, which was bright with a thankfulness and a beauty that, although he had seen something of her possibilities of expression, he had never dreamed of.  How glad she was!  A pang went through him.  He understood it afterward.  It had meant that he was asking himself if Katie’s face, when he told her the news, would look so happy at having gained him as this girl did at having lost him; and he had not been sure of it.  All the autumn there had been strange fancies in his head about Katie.  He had had no right, under the circumstances, to send Lord Bulchester away; but it had seemed strange to him that any girl’s love of power should be carried so far if it were mere love of power that moved her.  But no shadow on Elizabeth’s face showed him that she dreamed of change in Katie, and Stephen felt rebuked that friendship could find its object more perfect than love did.