UNWELCOME NEWS.
J
une was doing its best to make the world content. Little clouds floated
through the blue sky, like the light sighs of a mood that must find some
expression, and the air for all its softness was invigorating, it was so full of life
and purity. This day, like many another, needed only to bring as fair hopes
to the lives of those who looked into it as it did to the nature it overbrooded
to make the faces its light breezes fanned as bright as the skies were, with only
shadows of expression to give the brightness new beauty. But no such light
was on Elizabeth Royal's face as she sat at the open window of her room with
a piece of delicate embroidery in her hands. Her future had not opened out
into life; the winter had killed its buds of promise.
After all, Stephen Archdale had not gone to England. His father and Gov-
ernor Wentworth had insisted that it was much wiser to send an older and
a better business man. "Do you want to make the best of your case?" the
Colonel had asked incisively when Stephen hesitated. And the young man
had yielded, though reluctantly. It would have been so much easier for him
3 VARIOUS
to be away and to be doing something. But at present he must think only of
doing the wisest thing.
Elizabeth had not seen him; he had written to her father once, and had
promised to write again as soon as he had the slightest news. He had tried his
best to be cheerful, and had sent her a message that endeavored to be hope-
ful; but she saw that courtesy struggled with despair. She knew that they
need never meet; but if this thing were true-she could not believe it-but if
it were true, then happiness was over. Life in a June day has such possibilities
of happiness; and that morning her eyes grew so misty that she took a few
wrong stitches in her work, and as footsteps drew near the room, perceived
this and began to pick them out with nervous haste. She had not finished,
however, when Mrs. Eveleigh came in. As Elizabeth had expected, her first
remark was a comment.
"What! another mistake, my dear? You know you made one only yesterday,
and you can work so beautifully when you give your mind to it. It is a bad
plan to have such a dreamy way with one. For my part, I should think you
would have had enough of doing things in dreams and never knowing what
they will end in. You would better wake up for the rest of your life."
As Elizabeth had heard the same remark numberless times before, its effect
was not startling. In silence she went on picking out her stitches.
"Why not say you think so, too? It would be more dutiful in you," contin-
ued Mrs. Eveleigh.
"You take care that I am waked up," returned Elizabeth. "You don't leave
