he kind of beauty he had.

"You are booked for a visit, Bulchester," he began, seating himself in
the chair opposite the other. "I have accepted for you; knew you would
be glad to go with me."

"That is cool!" And Bulchester's light blue eyes glowed with anger for a
moment. His moods of resentment against his companion's domination,
though few and far between, were very real.

"Not at all. In fact it is a delightful place, and I don't know to what
good fortune we are indebted for an invitation. Neither of us has much
acquaintance with Archdale."

"Archdale? Stephen Archdale?"

"Yes. You look amazed, man. We are asked to meet Sir Temple and Lady
Dacre. I don't exactly see how it came about, but I do see that it is
the very thing I want in order to go on with the search. Another city,
other families."

"But--." Bulchester stopped.

"But what?"

"Why, the possible Mistress Archdale,--Elizabeth. Of course I am happy
to go, if you enjoy the situation."

A dangerous look rayed out from Edmonson's eyes.

"I can stand it, if Archdale can," he answered. "How fate works to bring
us together," he mused.

"I don't understand," cried the other. "What has fate to do with this
invitation?" Edmonson, who had spoken, forgetting that he was not alone,
looked at his companion with sudden suspicion. But Bulchester went on in
the same tone. "If it is to carry out your purpose though, little you
will care for having been a suitor of Mistress Archdale."

"On the contrary, it will add piquancy to the visit." Then he added,
"Don't you see, Bulchester, that I dare not throw away an opportunity?
Ship 'Number One' has foundered. 'Number Two' must come to land. That is
the amount of it."

"Yes," returned Bulchester with so much assurance that the other's
scrutiny relaxed.

"I suppose it is settled," said his lordship after a pause.

"Certainly," answered Edmonson; and he smiled.

Lady Dacre and train, having fairly started on their two day's journey,
she settled herself luxuriously and again began her observations. But as
they were not especially striking, no chronicle of them can be found,
except that she called Brattle Street an alley, begged pardon for it
with a mixture of contrition and amusement, and generally patronized the
country a little. Sir Temple enjoyed it greatly, and Archdale was glad
of any diversion. When they had stopped for the night, as they sat by
the open windows of the inn and looked out into the garden w