The Bay State Monthly, Volume 3, No. 1

"No," answered Elizabeth, and moved away from him. Bulchester turning about also, found Lady Dacre almost at his elbow. He brought himself face to face with her and informed her of Elizabeth's refusal. Lady Dacre looked at him attentively; he had never appeared to her so manly as when he was boldly declaring his predilection.

"Of course she would not introduce you if you said all this to her. How could she? As for me, I am hands off; it is none of my business anyway," she said. "But, if you will pardon a word of warning at the outset from an unprejudiced observer—what makes you expect to win, over Stephen Archdale's head? He is a strong rival and first in the field."

"That's not everything to some women, the being first in the field, I mean," he answered, this time suppressing his repetition of his friend's belief that Archdale was no longer in the field.

"True."

"And do you think," he went on in a passionate undertone, "that I am fit for nothing but Edmonson's fag? I tell you Edmonson—" he stopped abruptly.

"What about him?" she asked, fixing her eyes upon him. But already Bulchester had drawn back.

"I have nothing to say about him," he answered, "only that there is no need of my walking always so close to him as to be thrown into the shade."

"No, there is not," she said, and glanced at the subject of their conversation, who stood talking to Katie in the most absorbed way. Lady Dacre comprehended the reason of Bulchester's present bitterness. But neither imagined that it was the conversation, and not the talker, that was interesting Edmonson. The girl was telling him bits of family history which he professed with truth to find fascinating. He was watching her, listening, smiling with his brightest look, speaking a word or two occasionally to draw forth more information, and Katie, sure that she was telling nothing too personal, went on, growing more animated by her subject in seeing the absorption of her companion, which in her heart she did not doubt came irom his desire to keep her talking to him. Bulchester stopped a moment and drew nearer to his companion.

"When he looks like that," he said in her ear, "he is—he is,—dangerous." He straightened himself directly and walked on. Sir Temple spoke to Lady Dacre, and again Bulchester was left. But it might have been Madam Archdale who took pity upon him, for at last he obtained his introduction.

Why did Katie turn so readily from Edmonson to welcome the new-comer? Was it coquetry? Did she know intuitively that the eyes of the latter held more true worship for her than the other's tones? Edmonson's eyes gleamed for a moment, and his face darkened. He looked at Bulchester from head to foot, reading him with contempt. Then with a bow that had a spice of mockery in it, as if he were amused at the rival whom he appeared not to dare to compete with, he resigned his place, and going up to Elizabeth, offered her his arm and moved away with her.

"Fate will be very kind to Stephen Archdale," he said as soon as they were out of hearing, "should it substitute you for that young lady, kinder to him than to you, since he was man enough to want her."

"You don't like Katie?" cried Elizabeth, ignoring the subject she shrank from. "You are the first person I ever heard of who did not."

"Pardon me. I did not say that I did not like her. I was making a comparison. She is an exceedingly pretty little puppet, and she goes through all her little tricks, if I may call them so without disparagement, with a delightful docility. After the clockwork is wound up, it doesn't hitch, or stop, until it runs down. But there is nothing unexpected about her; in five minutes you get to know her like a book."

"A book you have not read," cried Elizabeth with spirit.

Edmonson laughed. "Nobody would venture to predict your next acts or words," he said; "he would be a bold man that tried."

"No," she answered with sadness in her gravity. "I never know them myself. I have none of that poise which it is worth such a struggle to gain. That is the reason why—." She stopped, perhaps through consciousness that the conversation was getting toward egotism; perhaps because she did not want to give confidence where it was better that she should not.

"That is why you are so irresistible," Edmonson longed to finish; he even framed his lips for the words, but a glance at Elizabeth checked them. He wondered why, as he felt that a few months ago he would have spoken them unhesitatingly. It could not be because she was possibly Archdale's wife, for to believe her not that would please her better than anything else. Therefore, though he feared it, and had referred to it, he would have been glad to have denied it at the next moment. He would even have been glad to believe that he was restrained wholly by a question of how she would view this speech in the light of the possibility. But he knew it was something more. He had seen the change in Elizabeth, and in smothered wrath had perceived that this growth which made her every day more interesting seemed to be in some way withdrawing her from him. He struggled against allowing this dim feeling to become a perception. For she might be free; then she should become his wife: she might be already bound; in that case,—again the terrible shadow darkened his face for an instant. Then he recollected himself, and his eyes, seeking a visible object, rested on her face a little sad with its dwelling upon her unfinished sentence which would have spoken of her mistakes. A flash of perception revealed the truth to him; he saw the gulf that yawned between his nature and hers, and, almost cursing her for being so above him, there came to him a strange longing to feel some touch upon him which would give his face the calmness that under its pathos he read upon hers. It was no determination to struggle to a higher plane, no desire for it, but only the old cry for some one to be sent to cool the tip of his tongue because the flame tormented him. It was not, however, an appreciable lapse of time before he again felt his feet upon the floor and thrilled under the light touch upon his arm. The insight was over, the whirl was over; he was one of the guests talking to his host's probable daughter-in-law. He went on with his subject. "At least you have not changed your nature," he said with courteous freedom. "You are royal still in defence of your friends. I shall not attack them again."

"You would better not," she answered more than half in earnest.

"And Katie is—."

"Yes, I know," he said. And she felt so keenly that he did know all about it that she readily drew away from him when Archdale came up with some one to speak to her. Stephen saw the movement; Edmonson felt it. "Proud as Lucifer," thought the latter, "will not own where it galls her. She is the kind to hate him if she is bound to him in this way."

PUBLISHERS' DEPARTMENT

NOTES

The welcome accorded to the Bay State Monthly by the reading public of New England during the past year has demonstrated the fact that the magazine has entered a field in which there is room for it to thrive. To many the idea of a local magazine is novel; so in its inception was the idea of a local newspaper, now generously supported by nearly every hamlet in the Union.

The Granite Monthly for New Hampshire and the Bay State Monthly for Masachusetts are pioneers: their claim for existence is shown by their existence. The growth of each depends upon the patronage afforded by the public. The indications now are that the Bay State Monthly is fairly launched on a long and prosperous voyage.

notes

1

Boston Globe, October 18, 1884.

2

Neither of these were carved; they were both of metal.

3

Boston Evening Record, January 10, 1885.

4

Fac-similes of his signature are given in "Memorial History of Boston," vol. II, p. 110, written in 1733, and in John Johnston's "History of Bristol, Bremen and the Pemaquid Plantation," p. 466, written in 1762.

5

Johnston's "Bristol and Bremen."

6

Samuel Adams Drake's "Old Landmarks of Boston," p. 135.

7

Mss. letter of Henry T. Drowne, Esq., of New York.

8

Samuel G. Drake's "History of Boston."

9

History of "Bristol and Bremen."

10

Drake in "Old Landmarks," says: "the grasshopper was long thought to be the crest of the Faneuils."

11

Boston Daily Advertiser, December 3, 1852.

12

Historical and Genealogical Register, vol. XXVII, p. 422.

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