the world sometime; he
liked to see new things. After dinner, when the guests were in the
garden, he joined his wife for a moment, and told her what had amused
him by the way. "We went by one of those little houses so numerous about
here," he said, "and an old man was mending his fence. It needed it
badly enough. Archdale, as he went by, nodded to him pleasantly and
called out an encouragement of his improvements. The old man looked up
hammer in hand, and I expected to see something like what I should have
had, you know, from the tenants at Alderly. But, Flo, he was so
occupied, staring at Edmonson, whom he looked at first, that I had no
chance at all with him, and poor Archdale didn't get even a nod. He just
dropped his hammer and stood there agape. I think Archdale was annoyed
at the exhibition of ill manners, for he talked very little the rest of
the way here. Edmonson was so amused he could scarcely help chuckling
over it. He asked our host if the old man was one of his tenants, and if
he had been long on the place, and Archdale said 'yes.' Then Edmonson
chuckled all the more."

As Sir Temple said, Stephen Archdale had been moody during the remainder
of the ride. The old butler's behavior, so at variance with his usual
deference, disturbed him. It was evident that Edmonson had come upon the
man like an apparition. But why? Stephen intuitively connected this in
some way with the conversation between the father and the son which he
had overheard that winter's day in the woods. Glancing at his companion,
he saw that Edmonson was aware of the startling effect he had produced,
and that the answer was in his face, which was jubilant. Indeed, he
could hardly restrain himself. Wheeling about in his saddle as they
rode, he broke out into a few notes of some rollicking song, asking Sir
Temple if he remembered it. To him this effect that he had produced
meant that the first stroke of the hour, his hour, had sounded; to
Archdale it meant that some mystery was here, some catastrophe
impending. He could readily connect calamity with Edmonson.

At the door he dismounted like one lost in thought, and with difficulty
threw off his moodiness; while Edmonson sprang to the ground and ran
lightly up the steps into the house, his eyes sparkling and his face
aglow with a beauty that Elizabeth was beginning to analyze. Before half
an hour his wit was being quoted over the room. Other arrivals followed
this first. There was reason enough w