Katie’s face changed, as the sky changes when a rift of blue that promised a smiling day is swallowed up again in the midst of uncertain weather; whatever softness lingered was veiled by doubt.  “I don’t know,” she said hesitatingly, “I’m not sure yet.  I can’t tell.  Must you have your answer to-day?” And she looked at him half defiantly.  An expression of bitter disappointment swept over Bulchester’s face and seemed actually to affect his whole personality, for he appeared to shrink into himself until there was less of him.  “You see,” Katie went on, “between you I am driven, I am tossed; I don’t even know what I feel.  How can I?  Poor Stephen, you know, has loved me all my life, and one does not easily forget that, Lord Bulchester.  He does have a claim, you know.”

“Only your preference has any claim,” he answered in a voice of entreaty.

“Yes,” she said, and sighed.  The assent and the sigh completely puzzled him.  Were they for himself, or for Stephen Archdale?  Had she already chosen without being willing to speak, or was she still hesitating?  In either case, the decision was equally momentous, the only question was of lengthening or shortening the suspense of waiting for it.

“Then take your time,” he answered drearily, “and I will leave you, I will go and hide my impatience.  You must not be tortured.”

“No,” returned the girl with a low sigh.  At that instant she turned her face away from him toward the window, a knock at the door being the ostensible reason.  But if anyone had seen the smile with which she received the assurance that she was not to be tortured, he would have believed that there was no imminent danger of it.  Had it been a question of torturing,—­that was another thing.  When she turned a grave face toward Lord Bulchester again he had risen.  “No, No,” she cried.  “Don’t go, sit down, I would rather have you here, for a time at least.  It’s Elizabeth,—­Mistress Royal.”  Her tones threw the listener from dreariness into despair.  A moment since he thought he had her assurance that his own claims were seriously considered.  And, now, what could give her manner this nervousness, but the fact that her attachment to Archdale was still in force?  For Bulchester had learned from her that since her arrested wedding Elizabeth had always been associated in her mind with Stephen.  She was so in his own also, for this reason, and another.  The young man sat down again.  It was not consistent with his feelings, nor his knowledge of affairs, and, still less, with his character to perceive that Katie’s conscience troubled her a little.