onfession. She smiled at him.

"Don't try to soften it, Mr. Archdale. We both mean that. You speak
honestly because you are honest and understand what I want, too; because
you are wise enough to believe in the absurdity of this whole affair."

"You did not think it absurd at first," he answered.

"I was overwhelmed. I had no time to consider."

"No," he said, "only time to feel."

"Don't speak of that day," and she shuddered. "If I were to live a
thousand years, there never could be another so horrible."

He had risen to go. He stood a moment silent. Then:

"You are so reassuring," he said. "Yet, how can either of us be assured?
Perhaps you are my wife."

"Never," she said, and looked at him with a sudden coldness in her face.

"If a minister has married us," he answered, "nobody has yet unmarried
us."

The gravity of her expression impressed him.

"God has not married us," she said. "I shall never admit that." There
was a moment's silence. "Poor Katie!" she added.

"Yes, poor Katie,--and Mistress Royal."

Elizabeth smiled sadly.

"You remember that?" she asked. "It would not be strange if you forgot
everybody but Katie, and yourself."

"It would be strange if I forgot you, since you are,--what you are."

"I foresee," she answered, "that we shall be good friends. By and by,
when you and Katie are well established in your beautiful new house I
shall visit you there; Katie invited me long ago, and you and I are
going to be good friends."

CHAPTER XII

PERPLEXITIES.

Although Elizabeth had been so brave before Archdale, yet as soon as he
had gone she sank into her chair and covered her face with her hands, as
if by this she could shut out the visions of him from her mind. She
lived in the land of the Puritans, and Indiana had not been discovered.
She knew that those words which ought to have been so sacred but which
she had spoken so lightly were no longer light to her, but that in the
depths of her heart they weighed like lead and gave her a sense of guilt
that she could not throw off. Even if they proved nothing in law, they
had already brought a terrible punishment, and if,--if--. With a low cry
she started up. Life had grown black again. But she was not accustomed
to give way to emotions, still less to forebodings. In a few moments she
went back to her embroidery, and to Mrs. Eveleigh.

Archdale left Mr. Royal's house with a new comprehension of the woman he
had married in jest. Somehow