"Then, must it be done?"
"Oh, yes, that's the only thing about it I am quite sure of. It must be
done, and directly, too. It may be too late now, but we must try. What
troubles me is how it can be done so that we may be certain."
"Certain of what?"
"Certain that it reaches him," answered Elizabeth. Then she looked at
her father, and remembered that he could not understand her. "I must
tell you," she said. "It is like a nightmare. It oppresses me to think
of it. I feel guilty to believe it, and yet I don't dare to deny it to
myself, for fear of the consequences. It's about Mr. Edmonson, father."
"Oh!" said her listener in a tone far from pleased.
"And Mr. Archdale, added Elizabeth. Not that who the people are makes
any difference. Our duties would be just the same knowing the,--knowing
what I do." Her father sat watching her in silence with his keenest
gaze. "There is no love lost between the two men, as you know," she went
on. "Mr. Archdale is lofty, and wouldn't condescend to anything more
than a dislike that he hasn't tried to conceal, since Mr.
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