THE CHALLENGE.
A very few moments had elapsed, and Peyton still sat by the table, in a dogged study, when the door from the south hall was opened slightly, and if he had looked he might have seen a pair of eyes peeping through the aperture. But he did not look, either then or when, some seconds later, the door opened wide and Miss Sally bobbed gracefully in.
It has been related how, after her brilliant but exhausting conduct of the important scene assigned her, she sought repose in her room. Looking out of her window presently, she saw something, of which she thought it advisable to inform Elizabeth. Therefore she came down-stairs. Did she listen at the door to the last part of that notable conversation? Ungallant thought, aroint thee! ’Tis well known women have little curiosity, and what little they have they would not, being of Miss Sally’s station in life, descend to gratify by eavesdropping. Let it be assumed, therefore, that the much vaunted informant, feminine intuition, told Miss Sally of the 237 end of the interview between her niece and the captain, both as to the time of that end and as to its nature.
She entered, tremulous with a vast idea that had blazed suddenly on her mind. Now that Elizabeth was quite through with Peyton, now that Peyton must be low in his self-esteem for Elizabeth’s humiliation of him, and therefore likely to be grateful for consolatory attentions, Miss Sally might resume her own hopes. But there was no time to be lost.
“Your pardon, captain,” she began, sweetly, with her most flattering smile. “I am looking for Miss Elizabeth.”
“She was here awhile ago,” replied Peyton, glumly, not bringing his eyes within range of the smile. “She went that way. I trust you’ve recovered from your attack.”
“My attack?” inquiringly, with surprise.
“The queer spell, I think Miss Philipse called it. She said you were subject to them.”
“Well, how does she dare—” She checked her tongue, lest she might betray the device for his detention. Something in his absent, careless way of associating her with a queer spell irritated her a little for the moment, and impelled her to retaliation. “I suppose that was not the only thing she said to you?” she added, ingenuously.
“No,—she said other things.” He rose and 238 went to the fireplace, leaned against the mantel, and gazed pensively at the red embers.