if they had sent it as
a messenger to express their delight in summer. In the distance the
Piscataqua broadened out to the sea, and beyond the river the city was
outlined against the sky. To the left of this, and in great sweeps along
the horizon stretched the forests. As one looked at these forests, the
fields of com, the scattered houses, the pastures dotted with cattle,
the city, all signs of civilization, seemed like a forlorn hope sent
against these dense barriers of nature; yet it was that forlorn hope
that is destined always to win.

"Do you know, I like it?" said Lady Dacre turning to her hostess. "I
think it all very nice. So does Sir Temple. Yet I don't see how you can
get along without a bit of London, sometimes. London is the spice, you
know, the flavor of the cake, the bouquet of the wine."

"Only, it differs from these, since one cannot get too much of it,"
answered Madam Archdale smiling, thinking as her eyes swept over the
landscape that there were charms in her own land which it would be hard
to lose.

Lady Dacre settled herself comfortably in one of the chairs of the
cupola, and turning to her companion, said abruptly:

"Dear Madam Archdale, what is going to be done about that poor son of
yours; he is in a terrible situation?"

"Indeed, he is."

"When is he going to get out? Have you done anything about it?"

"Done anything? Everything, rather. To say nothing of Stephen and my
poor little niece. Elizabeth Royal is not a woman to sit down calmly
under the imputation of having married a man against his will. And,
besides, I have heard that she would like to marry one of her suitors."

"Do you know him?"

"Not even who it is. I imagine that Stephen does, but he does not tell
all he knows."

"I have found that out," laughed Lady Dacre. "Indeed, I don't feel like
laughing," she added quickly, "but it seems to me only an awkward
predicament, you see, and I am thinking of the time when the young
people will be free to tie themselves according to their fancies.

"I don't take it so lightly," answered the lady, "and my husband, when
Stephen is out of the way, shakes his head dolefully over it. He
believes Harwin's story, and in that case he argues badly. My husband
has a conscience, and he does not intend that his son shall commit
bigamy. Neither does Stephen, of course, intend to; but then, Stephen is
in love with Katie, and he and Elizabeth Royal are disposed to carry
matters with a high hand.