say any harm?" he asked. "I am sure I didn't mean it; what
objection can you have to my giving your opinion on that matter, and I
did not even say it was yours."

"Because--I do object," returned the other moodily. Then he said nothing
more, rather to conceal the strength of his objections, than because his
anger was over.

This happened a few hours later. At the same time Lady Dacre was
speaking to her husband about Elizabeth. "I think that Archdale must
feel the situation most on account of the young betrothed," Sir Temple
said.

"That is all you know of a woman," she retorted indignantly. "Suppose I
were tied to you and knew you did not care for me, I need not have come
three thousand miles to find water enough."

"To drink?"

"No, you wretch; to drown myself in."

"You take too much for granted, dont you?" drawled Sir Temple with an
amused look. "And I am afraid you are aping Ophelia. Now, you are not in
her line at all; for one thing, you are too handsome."

Lady Dacre looked at him keenly, smiled with a moisture in her eyes, and
came up to him.

"How much too much do I take for granted?" she asked softly. Sir Temple
burst into a laugh, and kissed her.

"We will borrow poor Archdale's scales, and weigh it, and find out," he
answered.

There was over a week of the beautiful weather that midsummer brings,
and the days passed full of gayety. Both Archdale and his mother did
everything for the enjoyment of their guests. They showed them the most
beautiful views on shore, and by sailing took them to places of interest
not to be reached by land, while dinner-parties and garden-parties made
them acquainted with the best society of the city. From morning until
night the house was full of talk, and jest, and laughter. Among the
guests one day had been Mr. Royal and Mrs. Eveleigh. They had come with
Colonel and Madam Pepperell, at whose house they were then visiting, in
accordance with a promise made the autumn before when the Colonel and
his wife had been guests of Mr. Royal. More than once, Elizabeth had met
the party from Seascape, but she could not come here, she was not sure
enough in her heart of not being Stephen Archdale's wife. She
compromised with her father by promising to go to Colonel Archdale's,
for that gentleman had told them that they were to be asked there.

"Elizabeth was right not to come," Madam Pepperell had said to her guest
on the way to Seascape. "There are people small enough to have s