But Katie has scruples, too, and she must, of
course, be satisfied."

"Of course. What kind of person is this Elizabeth Royal?" asked Lady
Dacre after a pause. "Is she pretty, or plain?"

"Not plain, certainly. She has a kind of beauty at times, a beauty of
expression quite remarkable, Katie tells me. But I have not seen
anything especial about her."

"You don't like her?" questioned Lady Dacre.

"Oh, yes, only that I think her rather cool in her manners. She is the
soul of honor. She comes of good stock, some of the best in the country.
Her mother was a connection of Madam Pepperell. I believe she is about
to visit there with her father. We shall meet them both." And the
speaker explained that the Colonel knew Mr. Royal well, and would be
anxious to pay them some attention. "I suppose I am no judge of the
young lady," she added. "I have not seen her since the wedding, and only
a few times before that when she was visiting Katie. She is an heiress;
I understand that she is very wealthy, much richer than my little niece
will ever be."

"Ah!" said Lady Dacre. It seemed to her that she understood how
troublesome Colonel Archdale's conscience must be to him in this matter.
But the Colonel was a stranger to her, and at times Lady Dacre was
severe in her judgments. Sir Temple declared that she never had any
scruples over that second line of the famous poem of aversion,

"I do not like you. Dr. Fell."

"There is something I want to tell you," she said after a pause,
"something about Sir Temple and myself." And her listener received the
confidence that had been withheld from Stephen a few evenings before in
the garden.

Lady Dacre had scarcely finished when there came the sound of feet on
the stairs, a blonde head appeared in the narrow opening, another head
of dull brown hair came close behind, and Gerald Edmonson, followed by
Lord Bulchester, stepped into the cupola. Lady Dacre remembered at the
moment what Archdale had said on the journey, that most peoples' shadows
changed about,--now before, now on one side or the other, but Edmonson's
always went straight behind him.

"May we come?" asked the foremost young man, bowing to each of the
ladies.

"It is rather late to ask that," returned Madam Archdale, "but as you
are here, we will try to make you welcome."

And they sat there talking until the sun grew too hot for them.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth Royal, the subject of Lady Dacre's curiosity, was
thinking of t