"Did I say any harm?" he asked. "I am sure I didn't mean it; what objection can you have to my giving your opinion on that matter, and I did not even say it was yours."
"Because—I do object," returned the other moodily. Then he said nothing more, rather to conceal the strength of his objections, than because his anger was over.
This happened a few hours later. At the same time Lady Dacre was speaking to her husband about Elizabeth. "I think that Archdale must feel the situation most on account of the young betrothed," Sir Temple said.
"That is all you know of a woman," she retorted indignantly. "Suppose I were tied to you and knew you did not care for me, I need not have come three thousand miles to find water enough."
"To drink?"
"No, you wretch; to drown myself in."
"You take too much for granted, dont you?" drawled Sir Temple with an amused look. "And I am afraid you are aping Ophelia. Now, you are not in her line at all; for one thing, you are too handsome."
Lady Dacre looked at him keenly, smiled with a moisture in her eyes, and came up to him.
"How much too much do I take for granted?" she asked softly. Sir Temple burst into a laugh, and kissed her.
"We will borrow poor Archdale's scales, and weigh it, and find out," he answered.