given. For, as they stood together a
moment before dinner, Katie said, "How much pleasure it must have given
you to meet these guests of Stephen's; no wonder they seem agreeable to
you; it may be that you owe so much to them." Elizabeth looked at her in
amazement. "You know," continued Katie, "that these are the people whose
romantic story Master Harwin related to us one memorable evening?" "No,
indeed, I never dreamed of it, Katie," she added, her voice trembling.
"Why are you like this? You know how it all came about; you know that--"
"Mistress Archdale," Waldo's voice broke in, and the young man came
forward to be welcomed by a touch of Katie's hand and a smile that gave
him some excuse for lingering at her side. Elizabeth, after responding
briefly to his greeting, turned away. Her heart was heavy. It made very
little difference about the Dacres, but she had lost Katie, that was a
great deal. Last night she had thought that she might find the girl's
resentment gone and her sense of justice, if not her affection, ruling
her. At least there was this comfort, thought the watcher, she had not
broken Katie's heart, it had only been her own--that was better, after
all, than breaking anyone's else. Yet a sudden choking came into her
throat, she found her eyes grown dim, steadied her vision, heard a few
words of what Sir Temple was saying about English rule, assented by a
monosyllable, and went back to watching Katie, who seemed above sad
fortunes as she sat so unmistakably enjoying herself. She talked a
little with Bulchester, and smiled upon him until he beamed with
delight; then leaving him full of a secret conviction that she found him
more congenial than the neighbor on her other hand, she devoted herself
to Waldo, whose fierce suspicions had died out so that he was tranquilly
enjoying his dinner, or exchanging remarks with some other guest,
secretly delighted with the skill which Katie showed in making herself
agreeable to bores. Her bright brown hair would have gleamed in the
sunlight without the gold-dust it was powdered with. Her complexion, one
of Titian's warm blondes, was at its perfection; her eyes were grave
enough for steady expression, and at times for a touch of pathos; it was
at the sudden curving of her lips they filled with light, which was gone
again directly, making the beholder feel that the sunshine had flashed
over her face. As Elizabeth looked at her, and admired her, and felt her
heart still going o