"Angry with you!" broke out Archibald, his face flushing. "Has it been a desire to keep my--my friendship that has caused you to--" Mrs. Pennroyal interrupted him, drawing herself up proudly. "Pardon me, sir, I had no intention of forcing your good-will. If you will be my enemy, please yourself, and perhaps I may learn to become yours." And she turned her horse as she spoke. But Archibald, thus seemingly put in the wrong, and unwilling now to terminate the interview so abruptly, pressed his heel against his horse's side, and was again beside her. "You misunderstand me," said he. "What could I think? You will not deny that your--that Richard Pennroyal has shown himself no friend of mine." "I shall deny nothing that you see fit to charge against me, sir," rejoined the lady, still hurt and indignant, and the more irresistible. Archibald reflected that she was not, perhaps, justly responsible for the malevolence of another person, even though that person were her husband; and from this thought to thinking that she might, perhaps, be inclined to sympathize against her husband and with himself, was an easy transition. This perilous fancy made his pulses throb and his eyes gleam. He caught her horse's bridle. "Do not go yet! Let us talk a little, since we are met." "What has Sir Archibald Malmaison to say to me?" "You called me 'Archibald' just now." "You called me 'Mrs. Richard Pennroyal'!" "Well--and so you are!" said he, between his teeth. "Do you think of me by that name?" she asked, turning her brown eyes on him for a moment, and then looking away. "Kate!" She put out her beautiful hand, and he took it and carried it to his lips. Thoughts fierce and sweet flew through his mind. But Mrs. Pennroyal, having gained her immediate end (which, to do her justice, was probably nothing worse than the gratification of a coquettish whim), knew how to take care of herself. She drew her hand away. "There--well--you have been very unkind, Archibald. Have we not been friends--have we not been together from the first? How could you believe that I could wish you any harm?" "Ah, Kate, but you married him!" "Well, sir, I as good as asked you to marry me first, and you would not do it." "You asked me!" "Yes; you have forgotten. It has all been so strange, you see. I hardly know, even now, whether you are the Archibald I used to know." "But I know, very well," returned he, grimly. "And you are the wife of my enemy, the man who is trying to ruin me. Kate," he broke off suddenly, "how did Richard know that those papers were missing in our family? I told you once--do you remember that day? And no one knew it except you." Mrs. Pennroyal would perhaps have preferred not to be asked this question. But since it was asked, she was bound to make the best answer she could.