If Nell wanted work that would prevent her dwelling upon her heart's loss, she had certainly found it at Egerton House. Before a week had passed she had slipped into her position of presiding genius; and, marvelous to relate, seeing how young and inexperienced she was, she filled it very well.

At first she was considerably worried by the condition of domestic affairs. Meals were prepared for persons who might or might not be present to eat them. Sometimes she would sit down alone to a lunch sufficient for half a dozen persons; at others, Lady Wolfer would come down at the last moment and say:

"Oh, Nell, dear"—it had very quickly come to "Nell"—"ever so many women are coming to lunch—nine or ten, I forget which. I ought to have told you, oughtn't I? And I really meant to, but somehow it slipped out of my head. And they are mostly people with good appetites. Is there anything in the house? But, there! I know you will manage somehow, won't you, dear?"

And Nell would summon the long-suffering Mrs. Hubbard, and additions would hastily be made to the small menu, and Nell would come in looking as cool and composed as if the guests had run no risk of starvation.

The dinner hour, as Lady Wolfer had said, was eight, but it was often nine or half-past before she and Lord Wolfer put in an appearance; and more than once during the week the earl had been accompanied by persons whom he had brought from the House or some meeting, and expected to have them provided for.

The cook never knew how many guests to expect; the coachman never knew when the horses and carriages would be wanted; the footmen were called upon to leave their proper duties and wait upon a mob of "advanced women" collected for a meeting—and a scramble feed—in the dining room, when perhaps a proper lunch should have been in preparation for an ordinary party.

There was no rest, no cessation of the stir and turmoil in the great house, and amid it all Nell moved like a kind of good fairy, contriving to just keep the whole thing from smashing up in chaotic confusion.

Presently everybody began to rely upon her, and came to her for assistance; and the earl himself was uneasy and dissatisfied if she were not at the head of the breakfast table, at which he and she very often made a duet. He seemed to see Lady Wolfer very seldom, and gradually got into the habit of communicating with her through Nell. It would be:

"May I trouble you so far, Miss Lorton, as to ask Lady Wolfer if she intends going to the Wrexhold reception to-night?" Or: "Lady Wolfer wishes for a check for these bills. May I ask you to give it to her? Thank you very much. I am afraid I am giving you a great deal of trouble."

Sometimes Nell would say: "Lady Wolfer is in her room. Shall I tell her you are here?" and he would make haste to reply:

"Oh, no; not at all necessary. She may be very much engaged. Besides, I am just going out."

Grave and reserved, not to say grim, though he was, Nell got to like him. His pomposity was on the surface, and his stiffness and hauteur were but the mannerisms with which some men are cursed. At the end of the week he startled her by alluding to the salary which he had offered her in his letter.

"I am afraid you thought it a very small sum, Miss Lorton," he said. "I myself considered it inadequate; but I asked a friend what he paid in a similar case, and I was, quite wrongly, I see, guided by him."

"It is quite enough," said Nell, blushing. "I think it would have been fairer if you had not paid me anything—at any rate, to start with."

"We will, if you please, increase it to one hundred pounds," he said, ignoring her protest. "I beg you will not refuse; in fact, I shall regard your acceptance as a favor."

He rose to leave the room before Nell could reply, and Lady Wolfer, entering with her usual rapidity, nearly ran against him. He begged her pardon with extreme courtesy, and was passing out, when she stopped him with a:

"Oh, I'm glad I've seen you. Will the twenty-fourth do for the dinner party? Are you engaged for that night? I'm not, I think."

The earl's grave eyes rested on her pretty, piquant face as she consulted her ivory tablets, but his gaze was lowered instantly as she looked up at him again.

"No," he said. "Is it a large party?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm afraid so. I'm going over the list with Nell, here. Oh, for goodness' sake, don't run away, dear!" she broke off, as Nell, thinking herself rather de trop, moved toward an opposite door; and Nell, of course, remained.

"She's the most awful girl to get hold of!" said her ladyship. "If ever you want to speak to her, to have a nice, quiet chat with her, she has always got to go and 'see to something.'"

"I can understand that Miss Lorton's time must be much occupied," said the earl, with a courteous little inclination of the head to Nell.

"Yes, I know; but she might occupy it with me sometimes," remarked her ladyship.

"I can give you just five minutes," said Nell, laughing. "This is just my busiest hour."

The earl waited for a minute, waited as if under compulsion and to see if Lady Wolfer had anything more to say to him, then passed out. On his way across the hall he met Sir Archie Walbrooke.

"Mornin', Wolfer," said the young man, in his slow, self-possessed way. "Lady Wolfer at home? Got to see her about—'pon my honor, forget what it was now!"

The earl smiled gravely.

"You will find her in the library, Walbrooke," he said, and went on his way.

Sir Archie was shown into the room where Lady Wolfer and Nell were conferring over the dinner party, and Lady Wolfer looked up with an easy:

"Oh, it's you, is it? What brings you here? Oh, never mind, if you can't remember; I dare say I shall presently. Meanwhile, you can help us make out this list."

"Always glad to make myself useful," he drawled, seating himself on the settee beside Lady Wolfer, and taking hold of one side of the piece of paper which she held.

They were soon so deeply engaged that Nell, eager to get to Mrs. Hubbard, left them for a while.

When she came in again, the list was lying on the floor, Lady Wolfer was leaning forward, with her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her pretty face lined and eloquent of some deep emotion, and Sir Archie was talking in a low, and, for him, eager tone.

As Nell entered, Lady Wolfer rose quickly, and Sir Archie, fumbling at his eyeglass, looked for the moment somewhat disconcerted.

"If we're goin' to this place, hadn't we better go?" he said, with his usual drawl; and Lady Wolfer, murmuring an assent, left the room. Nell, following her to her room to ask a question about the dinner party, was surprised and rather alarmed at finding her pale and trembling.

"Oh, what is the matter?" Nell asked. "Are you ill?"

"No, oh, no! It is nothing," Lady Wolfer replied hastily. "Where is my hat? No, don't ring for my maid. Help me—you help me——"

She let her hand rest for a moment on Nell's arm, and looked into her grave eyes wistfully.

"Were you—were you ever in trouble, Nell?" she asked. "I mean a great trouble, which threatened to overshadow your life—not a death; that is hard enough to fight, but—how foolishly I am talking! And how white you have gone! Why, child, you can't know anything of such trouble as I mean! What is it?" she broke off, as the maid knocked at the door and entered.

"The phaËton is ready, my lady; and Sir Archie says are you going to drive, or is he? because, if so, he will change his gloves, so as not to keep your ladyship waiting."

"I don't care—oh, he can drive," said Lady Wolfer. She spoke as if the message, acting as a kind of reminder, had helped her to recover her usual half-careless, half-defiant mood. "About this dinner, Nell; will you ask Lord Wolfer if there is any one he would like asked, and add them to the list? Where did I leave it? Oh, it's in the library."

Nell went down for it, and, as she opened the door, Sir Archie came forward with an eager and anxious expression on his handsome face—an expression which changed to one of slight embarrassment as he saw that it was Nell.

"The list? Ah, yes; here it is. I'm afraid it's not fully made out; but there's plenty of time. Is Lady Wolfer nearly ready?"

Nell went away with a vague feeling of uneasiness. Had Lady Wolfer been telling Sir Archie of her "trouble"? If so, why did she not tell her husband? But perhaps she had.

Nell had no time to dwell upon Lady Wolfer's incoherent speech, for the coming dinner party provided her with plenty to think about. She had hoped that she herself would not be expected to be present, but when on the following evening she expressed this hope, Lady Wolfer had laughed at her.

"My dear child," she said, "don't expect that you are going to be let off. Of course, you don't want to be present; neither do I, nor any of the guests. Everybody hates and loathes dinner parties; but so they do the influenza and taxes; but most of us have to have the influenza and pay the taxes, all the same."

"But I haven't a dress," said Nell.

"Then get one made. Send to Cerise and tell her that I say she is to build you one immediately. Anyway, dress or no dress, you will have to be present. Why, I shouldn't be at all surprised if my husband refused to eat his dinner if you were not."

Nell laughed.

"And I know that Lord Wolfer would not notice my presence or my absence," she said.

Lady Wolfer looked at her rather curiously, certainly not jealously, but gravely and wistfully.

"My dear Nell, don't you know that he thinks very highly of you, and that he considers you a marvel of wisdom and cleverness?"

"I should be a marvel of conceit and vanity if I were foolish enough to believe that you meant some of the pretty things you say to me," remarked Nell. "And have I got the complete list of all the guests? I asked Lord Wolfer, and he said that he should like Lord and Lady Angleford invited."

Lady Wolfer nodded.

"All right. You will find their address in the Court Guide. But I think he has the gout, and Lady Angleford never goes anywhere without him. Did—did my husband say anything more about the party—or—anything?" she asked, bending over the proofs of a speech she was correcting.

"No," said Nell. "Only that he left everything to you, of course."

"Of course," said her ladyship. "He is, as usual, utterly indifferent about everything concerning me. Don't look so scared, my child," she added, with a bitter little laugh. "That is the usual attitude of the husband, especially when he is a public man, and needs a figure to sit at the head of his table and ride in his carriages instead of a wife! There! you are going to run away, I see. And you look as if I had talked high treason. My dear Nell, when you know as much of the world as you know of your prayer book——Bah! why should I open those innocent eyes of yours? Run away—and play, I was going to say; but I'm afraid you don't get much play. Archie was saying only yesterday that we were working you too hard, and that we ought to be ashamed of ourselves."

Nell flushed rather resentfully.

"I am much obliged to Sir Archie's expression of sympathy," she began.

"Yes! You sound like it!" said Lady Wolfer, laughing. "My dear, why don't you get angry oftener? It suits you. Your face just wants that dash of color; and I'd no idea your eyes were so violety! You can give me a kiss if you like—mind the ink! Ah, Nell, some day some man will go mad over that same face and eyes of yours. Well, don't marry a politician, or a man who thinks it undignified to care for his wife! There, do go!"

As Nell went away, puzzled by Lady Wolfer's words and manner, her ladyship let her head fall upon her hand, and, sighing deeply, gazed at the "proof" as if she had forgotten it.

Nell did not send for Madame Cerise, but purchased a skirt of black lace, and set to work to make up the bodice. She was engaged on this one evening two nights before the dinner, when Burden came in with:

"A gentleman to see you, miss. He's in the library. It's Mr. Lorton, your brother, I think——"

Nell was on the stairs before the maid had finished, and running into the library, had got Dick in her arms—and his brand-new hat on the floor.

"Dick! Oh, Dick! Is it really you?"

"Yes; but there won't be much left of me if you continue garroting me; and would you mind my picking up my hat? It is the only one I've got, and we don't grow 'em at Shorne Mills! Why, Nell, how—yes, how thin you've got! And, I say, what a swagger house! I'd always looked upon mamma's swell relations as a kind of 'Mrs. Harrises,' until now."

He nodded, as he endeavored to smooth the roughened silk of his hat.

"Mamma—tell me; she is all right, Dick?"

"Oh, yes. I've got no end of messages. She's had your letters, all of 'em; and she hopes that you are taking advantage of your splendid position. Is it a splendid position, Nell? They seemed to think me of some consequence when I mentioned, dissembling my pride in the connection, that I was your brother."

Nell nodded.

"Yes, yes; it is all right, and I am quite—happy. And Shorne Mills, Dick, are they all well?"

"And kicking. I've got a hundred messages which you can sum up in 'love from all.' And, Nell, I've only time to say how are you, for I'm going to catch the Irish mail. Fact! Bardsley & Bardsley are sending me to some engineering work there. How's that for high? Ah, would you!" gingerly whisking his hat behind him. "Keep off; and, Nell, how's Drake?"

The abrupt question sent the blood rushing through Nell's face, and then as suddenly from it, leaving it stone white.

"Drake—Mr. Vernon?" she said, almost inaudibly. "I—I do not know. I—I have not seen—heard."

"No? That's rum! I should have thought that tiff was over by this time. Can't make it out! What have you been doing, Miss Lorton?"

Nell bravely tried to smile.

"You—you have seen him? You never wrote and told me, Dick! You—you gave him my note?"

Dick nodded rather gravely.

"Yes."

"And—and——" She could not speak.

"Oh, yes; I gave it him, and he said——Well, he looked broken up over it; quite broken up. He said—let me see; I didn't pay very much attention because I thought he'd write to you and see you. They generally wind up that way, after a quarrel, don't they?"

"It does not matter. No, I have not seen or heard," said Nell.

"Well, he said: 'Tell her that it's quite true.' Dashed if I know what he meant! And that he wouldn't worry you, but would obey you and not write or see you. I think that was all."

It was enough. If the faintest spark of hope had been left to glow in Nell's bosom, Drake's message extinguished it.

Her head dropped for a moment, then she looked up bravely.

"It was what I expected, Dick. It—was like him. No, no; don't speak; don't say any more about it. And you'll stay, Dick? Lady Wolfer will be glad to see you. They are all so kind to me, and——"

"I'm so glad to hear that," said Dick; "because if they hadn't been I should have insisted upon your going home. But I suppose they really are kind, and don't starve you, though you are so thin."

"It's the London air, or want of air," said Nell. "And mamma, does she"—she faltered wistfully—"miss me?"

"We all miss you—especially the butcher and the baker," replied Dick diplomatically. "And now I'm off. And, Nell—oh, do mind my hat!—if you know Drake's address, I should like to write to him."

She shook her head.

"Strange," said Dick. "I wrote to the address in London to which I posted the letters when he was ill, and it came back 'Not known.' I—I think he must have gone abroad. Well, there, I won't say any more; but—'he was werry good to me,' as poor Joe says in the novel, you know, Nell."

Yes, it was well for Nell that she had no time to dwell upon her heart's loss; and yet she found some minutes for that "Sorrow's crown of sorrow," the remembrance of happier days, as she leaned over her black lace bodice that night when the great house was silent, and the quiet room was filled with visions of Shorne Mills—visions in which Drake, the lover who had left her for Lady Luce, was the principal figure.

On the night of the big dinner party, she, having had the last consultation with Mrs. Hubbard and the butler, went downstairs. The vast drawing-room was empty, and she was standing by the fire and looking at the clock rather anxiously—for it was quite on the cards that Lady Wolfer would be late, and that some of the guests would arrive before the hostess was ready to receive them—when the door opened and her ladyship entered. She was handsomely dressed, and wore the family diamonds, and Nell, who had not before seen her so richly attired and bejeweled, was about to express her admiration, when Lady Wolfer stopped short and surveyed the slim figure of her "housekeeper companion" with widely opened eyes and a smile of surprise and friendly approval.

"My dear child, how—how——Ahem! no, it's no use; I must speak my mind! My dear Nell, if I were as vain as some women, and, like most, had a strong objection to being cut out in my own house by my own cousin, I should send you to bed! Where did you get that dress, and who made it?"

Nell laughed and blushed.

"I bought it in Regent Street—half of it—and made the rest; and please don't pretend that you like it."

"I won't," said Lady Wolfer succinctly. "My dear, you are too pretty for anything, and the dress is charming! Oh, mine! Mine is commonplace compared beside it, and smacks the modiste and the Louvre; while yours——Archie is right; you have more taste than Cerise herself——" She broke off as the earl entered. "Don't you admire Nell's dress?" she said, but with her eyes fixed on one of her bracelets, which appeared to have come unfastened.

The earl looked at Nell—blushing furiously now—with grave attention.

"I always admire Miss Lorton's dresses," he said, with a little bow. Then his eyes wandered to the white arm and the open bracelet, and he made a step toward his wife; then he hesitated, and, before he could make up his mind to fasten it, she had snapped to the clasp.

"I tell her she will cause a sensation to-night," she said, moving away.

He looked at his wife gravely.

"Indeed, yes," he said absently. "Is it not time some of them arrived?"

As he spoke, the footman announced Lady Angleford.

She came forward, her train sweeping behind her, a pleasant smile on her mignonne face.

"Am I the first, Lady Wolfer? That is the punishment for American punctuality!"

"So good of you!" murmured Lady Wolfer. "And where is Lord Angleford?"

"I'm sorry, but he has the gout!"

Lady Wolfer expressed her regret.

"And Lord Selbie?" she asked. "Shall we see him?"

"Did you ask him?" asked Lady Angleford, her brow wrinkling eagerly. "Is he in England? Have you heard that he has returned?"

Another woman would have been embarrassed, but Lady Wolfer was too accustomed to getting into scrapes of this kind not to find a way out of them.

"Isn't that like me? Nell, dear—this is my cousin and our guardian angel, Miss Lorton—Lady Angleford! Did we ask Lord Selbie?"

Nell smiled and shook her head.

"N-o," she said; "his name was not on the list, I think."

Lady Angleford, who had been looking at her with interest, went up to her.

"It wouldn't have been any use," she said. "He is abroad—somewhere."

She stifled a sigh as she spoke.

"Then there is no need for us to feel overwhelmed with guilt, Nell," said Lady Wolfer. "Come and warm yourself, my dear. Oh, that gout! No wonder you won't join the 'Advance Movement!' You've quite enough to try you. Nell, come and tell Lady Angleford how hard I work."

Nell came forward to join in the conversation; but all the time they were talking she was wondering where she had heard Lord Selbie's name!