Elizabeth had always found likable things in Lord Bulchester:  and although she had been indignant at his taking advantage of the position of affairs to try to win Katie, she had owned to herself that he was not responsible for such position, and ought not to have been expected to feel about as she did.  And now that Katie and Stephen Archdale were once more united, Elizabeth felt a deep pity for Bulchester, and believed that he was behaving well in being manly enough to have won Katie’s respect and friendship.  No shadow of doubt of her friend’s loyalty to Stephen crossed her mind.  And nothing gave her warning that out of this morning visit in which there would be said and done no single thing that would seem at the time of any consequence, would come results that would influence her life.

The conversation, after ranging about a little turned upon the quiet that had settled down upon the city, now that the excitement of fitting out the expedition was over.  Elizabeth said that it seemed to her the hush of anxiety and expectation, for it was felt that the fate of the country hung upon the issue.  Whether New England were still English in government or became French provinces depended more upon the fate of Louisburg than anybody liked to confess.

“I don’t believe there’s any danger of our being French provinces,” said Katie.

“I ought to have put it that we fight the battle there or in our own home,” said Elizabeth.  Then as they went on to speak of the soldiers, she said suddenly to Bulchester:  “What does your lordship do without Mr. Edmonson?” The latter shifted his foot on the floor uneasily.

“I suppose you think that I ought to have gone too,” he said half in apology, “but—­,” He looked at Katie and his face brightened:  she was not a woman to blame him because his love for her had kept him at home.  He did not linger upon the other part of the truth, that he was not fond of war in any event.  “I have helped in my small way,” he said.  “Don’t believe me quite without patriotism.”  Elizabeth looked surprised.

“I did not mean that at all,” she answered.  “I was not thinking of it, but only that you had been so much with Mr. Edmonson, that you must miss him.”

“I don’t know,” answered Bulchester.  After a moment’s hesitation he added, “I see you look surprised:  the intimacy between us seemed to you close?”

“Why, yes, it did,” assented Elizabeth, “very close.  But I don’t see why I should say so, or how it should be any affair of mine.”

Bulchester looked uncomfortable.  “All the same,” he answered, “you are judging me, and thinking me disloyal, and that it is a strange time to forget one’s friendship when the friend has gone to peril life for his country.”

“Perhaps something like that did come to me,” confessed Elizabeth.

“You can’t judge,” pursued the other eagerly, speaking to Elizabeth, but thinking of the impression that this might be making upon Katie.  “There are things I cannot explain, things that have made me draw away from Edmonson.  It is not because he has gone to the war and I have found reason to stay at home.  There are impressions that come sometimes like dreams, you can’t put them into words.  But without being able to do that, you are sure certain things are so.  No, not sure.”  He stopped again.  It was impossible to explain.