not diminished by the fact that it happened to be her husband's; but if it
should turn out that her husband's was not the winning side after
all--then there was matter for consideration. Of course, strictly
speaking, her husband's misfortunes must be her own; but in this instance
the nominal misfortune would be his failure to ruin Archibald, and Mrs.
Pennroyal thought she could sustain that. No, the sensation was certainly
not unpleasurable. But was it certain that Archibald was not mistaken?

"I am very glad, for both our sakes," said she, at last. "I could never
have endured to take your name and estates away from you. Then that notion
that the papers were lost was a mistake?"

"I can tell you nothing more," replied Archibald, looking at her.

"Ah, you have not forgiven me--you do not trust me!"

He checked his horse and hers, and turned full upon her: "Kate, you are the
wife of my enemy, I must remember that! If I found you playing a double
part between him and me, I should hate you more than I hate him; and then
... I should be capable of any crime. Well, I will not put it in your
power. You will know all soon enough. Meantime, I trust you in this--to
keep silence on what I have said to-day. Let him believe that he will
succeed until he knows that he has failed. Will you promise that?"

Mrs. Pennroyal saw no harm in making this promise, but she did not see why
she should not make as great a favor as she could of granting it.

"A wife should have no secrets from her husband, Archibald."

"Have you never had a secret from him, Kate?"