Certainly not poor Nell, who still remained in her dim corner in the gallery. Mrs. Hawksley had begged her to come down to the supper which had been laid for her and her brother and Falconer; but Nell, who felt that it would be impossible to make even a pretense of eating or drinking, had begged them to excuse her; and when they had gone and the gallery was empty, she leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes; for she was well-nigh exhausted by the conflicting emotions which racked her. She longed to go, to leave the place, to escape from the risk of Drake's presence; but she could not leave the house alone, and to go from the gallery and absent herself for the rest of the evening might attract notice and comment.

Was it possible that Drake had been near her, so near as to almost have touched her? She trembled—and thrilled—at the thought; then crimsoned with shame for the sinful thrill of joy and happiness which his nearness had caused her.

What was he to her now? Nothing, nothing! She had yielded him up to the beautiful woman he had loved before he saw her, Nell; and it was shameful and unwomanly that she should feel a joy in his proximity.

Falconer came up before the rest of the orchestra, and brought a glass of wine and a biscuit for her.

"I am afraid you have a headache, the lights and the music—they are so near; and it is hot up here. Will you drink some of this, Miss Lorton?"

His voice was low and tender, though he strove to give it a conventional touch and merely friendly tone.

"Thank you, yes," said Nell gratefully. "How good of you to think of me! How magnificently you played! I can't tell you how happy your success has made me! And such a success! I was as proud as if it were I who was playing; and I was prouder still when I saw how quietly you took it. Ah, you felt that it was just your due. I suppose genius always takes the crowd's applause calmly."

His face flushed, and his dark eyes glowed.

"There is some applause I, at any rate—who am no genius, however—cannot take calmly," he said. "I would rather have those words of approval from you than the shouting and clapping of a multitude. Yes, it made me happy; but I am happier now than words can express."

If Nell had looked up into the eyes bent on hers, she must have read his secret in them; but the band had begun to play, and at that moment Drake was leading Lady Luce to her place for the cotillon, and Nell's eyes were drawn, riveted to the fair face, the blue eyes shining triumphantly; and she forgot not only Falconer's presence, but his existence.

As he saw that she did not heed him, the color died out from his face, and the light from his eyes, and, with a sigh, he left her and went back to his place in the orchestra.

The dance proceeded through all its graceful and intricate evolutions, and even to the spectators in the gallery it was evident that Lady Luce had stepped into the position of the belle of the ball. The excitement of hope and fear, the gratification of vanity which sprang from her consciousness that she was occupying the most prominent place as the earl's partner, had given to her face the touch of warmth it needed to make its beauty well-nigh perfect. Her lips were parted with a smile, the blue eyes—ordinarily a trifle cold—were glowing, and the diamonds sparkled fiercely on her heaving bosom.

Nell could not remove her eyes from her, but sat like a bird held by the fascination of the serpent. She was blind to all else but those two—the man she loved, the woman to whom she had surrendered him.

The time passed unheeded by her, and Falconer's voice sounded miles away as he bent over her.

"Dick has sent up to say that we can go," he said. "There's no fear of the lights now; indeed, the ball is nearly over. This is the last dance."

Nell rose stiffly and wearily.

"I—I am glad," she said.

"You are tired, very tired," he said. "Will you let me give you my arm?"

He felt her hand tremble as she put it on his arm, and he looked down at her anxiously.

"I wish I had taken you out of this before," he said remorsefully. "I have spoken to you—asked you—once or twice; but—but you did not seem to hear me. It is my fault. I ought to have insisted upon your going."

"No, no!" said Nell. "It is nothing. I am a little tired, and——Is it late?"

"Yes," he said. "Most of the people are leaving. It has been a great success. Is this the way?"

They had gone down the stairs leading to the lower hall, but here Falconer hesitated doubtfully. This second hall led into the larger one, through which the guests were passing.

Nell caught a glimpse of them, and shrank back.

"Not there," she said warningly. "There must be a door——"

"Ah, here it is!" he said; and he led her through an opening between portiÈre curtains. They found themselves in a small conservatory, and Falconer again stopped.

"It is very stupid!" he said apologetically.

"There may be an opening to the terrace," said Nell nervously; "once we are outside——"

"Here we are, out in the open air."

Nell drew a long breath, and pushed the hair from her forehead.

"We must go down these steps, and then to the right. I remember——"

They crossed the terrace, when two or three persons came out through a window behind them. They were talking, and Nell heard a voice which made her wince, and her hand grip Falconer's arm convulsively; for the voice was Drake's.

"They have a fine night to go home in," he was saying. "Not much of a moon, but better than none."

Nell stopped and looked despairingly at the patch of light which the window threw right across their path to the steps.

"Come quickly," said Falconer, in a low voice.

"No, no; we shall be seen!" she implored, in an agitated whisper.

But Falconer deemed it best to go on, and did so.

As they moved, Drake saw them, but indistinctly.

"Good-night, once more!" he called out, in the tone of a host speeding parting guests.

Falconer raised his soft felt hat.

"Good-night, my lord," he responded. At the same moment they stepped into the stream of light. Drake had been on the point of turning away, but as he recognized Falconer's voice and figure, he stopped and took a step toward them. Then, as suddenly, he stopped again, gazing after them as a man who gazes at a vision of the fancy.

"Who—who is that?" he demanded, almost fiercely.

Lady Luce was just behind him.

"That was the man who played the violin," she said. "Didn't you recognize him? How romantic he looks! Quite the idea of a musician."

Drake put his hand to his brow and stood still, looking after the two figures, now disappearing in the darkness, made more intense by the contrasting streaks of light from the windows.

"My God! How like!" he muttered, taking a step or two forward unconsciously.

But Lady Luce's voice aroused him from the half stupor into which he had fallen, and he turned back to her.

"I must be mad or dreaming!" he muttered. "What folly! And yet how like—how like!"

"Why, what is the matter, Drake?" asked Lady Luce, laying her hand on his arm, and looking up at him anxiously. "You are quite pale. You look"—she laughed—"as if you had seen a ghost!"

He smiled grimly. She had described his feelings exactly. In the resemblance of the girl, whoever she was, on the violinist's arm, he had in very truth seen the ghost of Nell of Shorne Mills.

Nell hurried Falconer along, but presently was forced to stop to regain her breath. Her heart was beating so wildly that she had to fight against the sensation of suffocation which threatened to overcome her.

"Let us wait a minute," said Falconer gently. "You are nervous, overtired. We will wait here."

But Nell had got her breath again by this time.

"No, no!" she said, almost vehemently. "Let us go. I know the way——"

"Dick will be waiting for us at the door of the east wing," he said. "If you can find that——"

"I know," she said quickly. "That is it on our left. But—but I do not want to see any one."

"All the guests are leaving by the front of the house; we are not likely to meet any one."

He was somewhat surprised at her agitation, and her evident desire to leave the place unseen; for Nell was usually so perfectly self-possessed and free from nervousness or gaucherie.

She drew him to the side park under the shadow of the wing, in which few of the windows were lighted, and as they waited she gradually recovered herself.

"There is Dick," said Falconer presently. "He is waiting for us by that window."

Nell looked in the direction he indicated.

"Is that Dick?" she said, peering at the figure. "It is so dark I can scarcely see. I don't think it is Dick. If it is, why is he looking in at the window?"

"He may be talking to some one inside," said Falconer. "I'll call him. Dick!"

As he called, the figure half turned, then swung round away from them, and with lowered head moved quickly away from the window, and passed into the darkness of the shrubbery.

"How strange!" said Falconer; and he felt puzzled. Why should Dick start at the sound of his name, and make off into the darkness?

Falconer bit his lip. It was just possible that Dick, who was young, and also particularly good-looking, was carrying on a flirtation with some one in the house. If so, the explanation of his sudden flight was natural enough.

"Why did he run away? Where has he gone?" said Nell. "You were wrong. It was not Dick."

"Very likely," assented Falconer. "It was so dark——Yes, I was wrong, for there he stands by the door," he broke off, as, coming round the corner, they saw Dick, who was engaged in lighting his pipe.

"Hallo! here you are, at last," he said, cheerfully. "Couldn't tear yourselves away from the festive scene? By George! if you'd spent the night in an engine room, you'd be glad enough to cut it."

"Poor Dick!" said Nell.

"Oh, I haven't had such a bad time," he said. "They brought me a ripping supper, and a special dish with the chef's compliments. I don't know where the chef's going when he leaves this terrestrial sphere; but, wherever it is, it's good enough for me. Well, Nellikins, enjoyed yourself?"

Nell forced a smile.

"Very much," she replied. "It—it was a great success."

"So I hear," said Dick. "But you seem to have taken the cake to-night, old man. They told me that you created a perfect furore, whatever that is. Anyway, Mrs. Hawksley and the rest came down with the most exciting account of your triumph. Seriously, Falconer, I congratulate you. I won't say that I prophesied your success long ago, because that's a cheap kind of thing to say; but I always did believe you'd hit the bull's-eye the first time you got a chance; and you've done it."

"I think they were pleased," said Falconer.

"His lordship and the rest of the swells ought to be very much obliged," remarked Dick. "You've given Éclat to his dance. Observe the French again? There is no extra charge."

"His lordship was extremely kind," said Falconer, "and his thanks more than repaid me for my poor efforts. I don't wonder at his popularity. I've always heard that the higher the rank the simpler the manners; and Lord Angleford is an instance of it. My acquaintance with the nobility is extremely limited——"

"Ditto here," said Dick. "Though the young lady on your arm has lived in marble halls, and hobnobbed with belted earls and lords of high degree. But I'm glad to hear that this one is affable."

Falconer laughed.

"Affable is the wrong word; it means condescension, doesn't it? And Lord Angleford was anything but condescending. He might have known me for years, if one judged by the tone of his voice and manner; and, as I said, I'm more than repaid."

"Well, I'm glad to hear he made a favorable impression on you," Dick said. "I haven't had the pleasure of making his acquaintance yet; but I shall probably see him before I go. But your success doesn't end here, Falconer. I'm told that you are going to play at Cleavemere Court. By George! if you knock them there as you did here—which, of course, you will do—your fortune's made. The duchess has no end of influence, and you'll be paragraphed in the papers, and get engagements at the houses of other swells, and before we know where we are, we shall see 'SeÑor Falconer's Recitals at St. James' Hall,' advertised on the front page of the Times. And serve you right, old man, for if ever a man deserved good luck, it is you. Eh, Nell?"

"Yes, yes," said Nell.

"And did you see his lordship, our all-puissant earl, my child?"

"Yes," she said, beginning to tremble—but, indeed, she had been trembling all through the conversation. How should she be able to get away from the house—the place which belonged to Drake? "Yes, I saw him. Dick, did a man—a man with a slight figure something like yours—pass you just before we came up?"

"No," he said.

"Are you sure? He must have passed by you."

"A figure like mine, did you say? Yes; I'm quite sure he didn't. I have too keen an eye for grace of form to let such a figure pass unnoticed."

"It may have been a servant or one of the guests," Falconer said.

"Oh, draw it mild!" remonstrated Dick. "Do I look like a flunkey or a groom? What is it you think you have seen?"

"A man was standing looking in at one of the windows of the inner side of the wing," said Nell. "We thought it was you; but, when Mr. Falconer called, the man, whoever he was, turned and walked into the shrubbery."

"A 'particular friend' of one of the maids, I dare say," remarked Dick easily. "And I've no doubt you have broken up a very enjoyable spooning. Now, would you like——Now what is it?"

For Nell had stopped short, and had seized his arm.

"There!" she exclaimed, in a whisper. "There he is again—that is the man!"

They had come to the lodge by this time, and Nell was gazing rather nervously toward the big gates.

"Where?" asked Dick. "I can see no one. Nell, you have had too much champagne. You'll be seeing snakes presently if you don't mind. Where is he?"

Nell laughed, but a little shakily.

"He has gone, of course. He went quickly through the gate."

"And why shouldn't he?" said Dick, with a yawn. "Oh, Falconer! when I think of the cool tankard into which I shall presently plunge my beak——What's come to you, Nell? It isn't like you to 'get the nerves.'"