forward a few steps, and his rider only stopped him when he was within
arm's length.

"That seems long ago; and yet, when I look at you, I could almost believe
it was but yesterday."

"You have changed more than I," replied the lady, letting her eyes rest
upon him with a certain intentness. This was true enough, physically
speaking; the handsome boy was now a superb young man; but Archibald chose
to interpret her words figuratively, and he answered bitterly:

"You may have changed little; but that little in you has caused whatever
change you find in me."

"It is true, then, that you are angry with me? I had hoped otherwise,"
said Mrs. Pennroyal, with a sad dignity that sat well upon her.

"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."