"Nell, I believe you are nervous! You're not? Very well; then stand up and look me in the face, and say 'Mesopotamia' seven times!"

It was the night of the dinner party at the Hall, at which, as Dick put it, she was to be "on view" as the fiancÉe of my lord of Angleford, and Nell had come down to the little sitting room dressed and ready to start.

Dick and Falconer were also ready, for Falconer had recovered sufficiently to be present, and had voluntarily offered to take his violin with him.

"Don't tease her, Dick," said Falconer, with the gentle, protective air of an elder brother. "She does not look a bit nervous."

"But I am!" said Nell, laughing a little tremulously; "I am—just a little bit!"

"And no wonder!" said Falconer promptly. "It is rather an ordeal she has to go through; to know that everybody is regarding you critically. But she has nothing to be afraid of."

"Now, there I differ with you," said Dick argumentatively. "If I were in Nell's place I should feel that everybody was thinking: 'What on earth did Lord Angleford see in that slip of a girl to fall in love with?' Ah, would you?" as Nell, laughing and blushing, caught up the sofa cushion. "You throw it and rumple my best hair, if you dare."

Nell put the cushion down reluctantly.

"It's a mean shame; you know I can't fight now."

"Though you have your war paint on," said Falconer, looking at her with a half-sad, half-proud admiration and affection.

"It's not much of a war paint," said Nell, but contentedly enough. "It's the dress I made for a party at Wolfer House—Dick, you know that the Wolfers have had to go? Lord Wolfer's brother was ill. I am so sorry! She would have made me feel less nervous, and rather braver. Yes, I'm sorry! It's an old dress, and I'm afraid Drake's jewels must feel quite ashamed of it," and she glanced at the pearls which he had given her a day or two ago, and which gleamed softly on her white, girlish neck and arms.

"You hear her complaining, Falconer!" said Dick, with mock sternness and reproval. "You'd find it hard to believe that I offered to remain at home and pop my dress suit, that she might buy herself fitting raiment for this show. Oh, worse than a serpent's tooth, it is to have an ungrateful sister!"

"I thought it was a new dress," remarked Falconer, still eying it and the wearer intently.

Nell shook her head, coloring a little, as she said:

"No; I wanted to wear this one. I didn't want to appear in a grand frock as if I were a fashionable lady."

"Fine feathers do not always make a fine lady," observed Dick, addressing the ceiling. "No one would mistake you for anything but—what you are, a simple ch-e-ild of Nachure."

"Don't tease her, Dick," remonstrated Falconer; but Nell laughed with enjoyment.

"I don't mind in the least, Mr. Falconer. It's quite true, too; my plain frock is more suitable than anything Worth could turn out."

"My dear Falconer, I'm sorry to see you so easily imposed on. Don't you see that she's as vain as a peacock, and that she's only playing at the humble and meek? Besides, I expect that idiot Drake—who slipped out just as we came down—he'll be late for dinner if he doesn't mind!—has been telling her that she looks rather pretty——"

Nell blushed, for Drake had indeed told her that she looked more than pretty.

"And, of course, she believes him. She'd believe him if he told her that the moon was made of green cheese. Put that cushion down, my child, or it will be worse for you. And I hope you will behave yourself properly to-night. Remember that the brother who has brought you up with such anxious care will be present, to say nothing of the friend to whose culture and refined example you owe so much. Don't forget that it is bad manners to put your knife in your mouth, or to laugh too loudly. Remember we shall be watching you closely and anxiously."

"It is time we started," said Falconer. "Let me put that shawl more closely round you, Miss Lorton. It's a fine night, but one cannot be too careful."

It was so fine that they had decided to walk the short distance to the Hall; and they set out, Falconer with his precious violin in its case under his arm, and Dick smoking a cigarette. They were all rather silent as they approached the great house, and Dick, looking up at it, said with a gravity unusual with him:

"It's hard to realize that you are going to be the mistress of this huge place, Nell."

Nell made no response; but she, too, looked up at the house with the same thought.

Indeed, it was hard to realize. But the next moment Drake came out to meet them, and took her upon his arm, with a whispered word of loving greeting for her, and a warm welcome to the two men.

"I needn't say how glad I am to see you, Falconer," he said, "or how delighted the countess and the rest of them will be. You must be prepared for a little hero worship, I'm afraid, for the countess has been diligent in spreading the story of your pluck."

As he lovingly took off Nell's shawl, he whispered:

"Dearest, how sweet and beautiful you look! If you knew how proud I am—how proud and happy!"

Then he led them into the drawing-room. A number of guests had already arrived, and as the countess came forward and kissed Nell, they looked at her with a keen curiosity, though it was politely veiled.

Nell was a little pale as the countess introduced her to one after another of the county people; but Drake stood near her; and everybody, prepossessed by her youth, and the girlish dignity and modesty which characterized her, was very kind and pleasant; and soon the threatened fit of shyness passed off, and she felt at her ease.

The room, large as it was, got rather crowded. Guests were still arriving. Some of the women were magnificently dressed in honor of the occasion, but Nell's simple frock distinguished her, as the plain evening dress of the American ambassador is said to distinguish him among the rich uniforms and glittering orders of the queen's levee; and the women recognized and approved her good taste in appearing so simply dressed.

"She is sweetly pretty," murmured the local duchess to Lady Northgate. "I don't wonder at Lord Angleford's losing his heart. Half the men in the room would fall in love with her if she were free. And I like that quiet, reticent manner of hers; not a bit shy, but dignified and yet girlish. Yes, Lord Angleford is to be congratulated."

"So he would be if she were not half so pretty," said Lady Northgate; "for he is evidently too happy for words. See how he looks at her!"

"Who is that bright-looking young fellow?" asked the duchess, putting up her pince-nez at Dick.

"That is her brother. Isn't he like her? They are devoted to each other; and that is Mr. Falconer, the great violinist. Of course, you've heard the story——"

"Oh, dear, yes," said the duchess. "And I want to congratulate him. I wish you'd bring the boy to me, dear."

Lady Northgate went after him, but at that moment a young lady with laughing eyes came into the room, and Dick started and actually blushed.

Drake, who was standing near him, laughed at his confusion.

"An old friend of yours, I think, Dick, eh? Miss Angel. She's stopping in the house; came to-day. If you're good, you shall take her in to dinner."

"I'll be what she is by name, if I may!" said Dick, eagerly. "I'll go and tell her so," and he made his way through the crowd to her.

"Afraid you've forgotten me, Miss Angel," he said. "Hop at the Maltbys', you know!"

Her eyes danced more merrily, but she surveyed him demurely for a moment, as if trying to recall him, then she said:

"Oh, yes; the gentleman who was so very—very cool; I was going to say impudent; pretty Miss Lorton's brother."

"You might have said Miss Lorton's pretty brother!" retorted Dick reproachfully. "But you'll have time to say it later on, for I'm going to take you in to dinner."

"'Going to have the honor' of taking me in to dinner, you mean!" she said, with mock hauteur.

"No; 'pleasure' is the word," said the unabashed Dick. "I say, how delighted I am to see you here——"

"Thank you."

"Because I know so very few of this mob."

"Oh, I see. I'll recall my thanks, please."

Dick grinned.

"I thought you were rather too previous with your gratitude. But isn't it jolly being here together!"

"Is that a question or an assertion? Because, if it's the former, I beg leave to announce that I see no reason for any great delight on my part."

"Oh, come now! You think! You can resume the lesson on manners you commenced at the Maltbys'. I want it badly; for I have been among a rough set lately. I'm a British workingman, you know—engineer. Come into this corner, and I'll tell you all about it."

"I don't know that I want to hear," she retorted. "But, oh, well, I'll come after I've spoken to your sister. How lovely she looks to-night! If I were a man, I should envy Lord Angleford."

"Would you? So should I if he were going to marry another young lady I know."

"Oh, who is that?" she asked, with admirably feigned innocence and interest.

"Oh, you can't see her just now. No looking-glass near," he had the audacity to add, but under his breath.

The dinner hour struck, the carriages were setting down the last arrivals, and Lady Angleford was looking round and smilingly awaiting the butler's "Dinner is served, my lady!" when a footman came up to her and said something in a low voice.

The countess went out of the room, and found her maid in the hall.

The woman whispered a few words that caused Lady Angleford to turn pale and stand gazing before her as if she had suddenly seen a ghost.

"Very well," she said.

The maid hurried upstairs, but the countess stood for quite half a minute, still pale, and gazing into vacancy.

Then she went back to the drawing-room, and, with a mechanical smile, passed among the guests until she reached Drake, who was talking to the duke and Lord Northgate.

"You want me, countess?" he said, feeling her eyes fixed on him, and he followed her to a clear space.

"Drake," she said, lifting her eyes to his face pitifully, "Drake, something dreadful has happened—something dreadful. I don't like to tell you, but I must. She is here!"

She whispered the announcement as if it were indeed something dreadful.

Drake looked at her in a mystified fashion.

"She! Who?" he asked.

"Luce!"

He did not start, but his brows came together, and his face grew stern, for the first time since his reconciliation to Nell.

"Luce!" he echoed. "Impossible!"

"Oh, but she is!" she murmured, in despair. "She arrived a quarter of an hour ago."

"But I wrote, telling her," he muttered helplessly.

The countess made a despairing gesture.

"Then she did not get your letter. She sent a telegram this morning, saying that she was able, unexpectedly, to come, but I have not had it. And if I had received it, there would not have been time to prevent her coming." She glanced at the slim, girlish figure of Nell, where it stood, the center of a group, and almost groaned. "What shall we do?"

At such times a man is indeed helpless, and Drake stood overwhelmed and idealess.

"She says that we are not to wait—that she will come down when she is dressed. She—she——Oh, Drake! she does not know, and she will think that—that you still—that she——"

He nodded.

"I know. But I am thinking of Nell," he said grimly. "Luce must be told. She—yes, she must go away again. She will, when she knows the truth."

"But—but who is to tell her?" said the poor countess, aghast at the prospect before her.

Drake shook his head.

"Not you, countess. I will tell her."

"You, Drake!"

"Yes—I," he said, biting his lips. "She found little difficulty in telling me, there at Shorne Mills——No, no; I ought not to have said that. But I am anxious to spare Nell, and my anxiety makes me hard. Wait a moment."

He went to the window, and, putting aside the curtains, looked out at the night, seeing nothing; then he came back.

"Put the dinner back for a quarter of an hour, and send word to her and ask her to go into your boudoir. I will wait her there."

"Is there no other way, Drake?" she asked, pitying him from the bottom of her heart.

"There is none," he said frankly. "It is my fault. I ought to have found out her address; but it is no use reproaching oneself. Send to her, countess!"

She left the room, and Drake went back to the duke, talked for a moment or two, then went up to the countess' room and waited. He had to face an ordeal more severe than any other that had hitherto fallen to his not uneventful life; but faced it had to be; and he would have gone through fire and water to save Nell a moment's pain. Besides, Luce was to be considered, though, it must be confessed, he felt little pity for her.

Presently the door opened; but it was Burden who entered. She was looking pale and emaciated, as if she were either very ill, or recovering from illness, and Drake, even at that moment of strain and stress, noticed her pitiable appearance.

"How do you do, Burden?" he said. "I am afraid you have not been well."

Burden curtsied, and looked up at him with hollow eyes.

"Thank you, my lord," she faltered. "My lady sent me to tell your lordship that she will be here in a minute or two."

She left the room, and Drake leaned against the mantelshelf with his hands in his pockets, his head sunk on his breast; and in a minute or two the door opened again, and Luce glided toward him with outstretched hands.

"Drake! How sweet of you to send for me—to wait!" she murmured.

He took one of her hands and held it, and the coldness of his touch, the expression of his face, startled her.

"Drake! What is the matter?" she asked. "Are—are you not glad to see me? Why do you look at me so strangely? I came the moment I could get away. There has been so much to do; and father"—she paused a moment and shrugged her shoulders—"has been very bad. The excitement and fuss——You know the condition he would be in, under the circumstances. I told Burden to wire this morning to say I was coming, but she forgot to do so. She seems half demented, and I am going to get rid of her. What is the matter, Drake?"

She had moved nearer to him, expecting him to take her in his arms and kiss her; but his coldness, his silence, was telling upon her, and the question broke from her impatiently.

"Haven't you had my letter?" he asked.

"Your letter? No. Did you write? I am sorry! What did you write?"

"I wrote"—he hesitated a moment, but what was the good of trying to "break" the news? "I wrote to tell you of my engagement——"

She started and stared at him.

"Your engagement! Your——Drake! What do you mean? Your engagement! To—to whom?"

"Sit down, Luce," he said gravely, tenderly, and he went to lead her to a chair; but she shook her hand free and stood, still staring at him blankly, her face growing paler.

"I wrote and told you all about it. I am engaged to Miss Lorton. You do not know her; but she is the young lady I met at Shorne Mills, the place in Devonshire——I was engaged to her then, but it was broken off, and we were separated for a time; but we met again——I am sorry, very sorry, that you did not get my letter."

Her face was perfectly white by this time, her lips set tightly. He feared she was going to faint; but, with a great effort she fought against the deadly weakness which assailed her.

"So that was what you wrote!" she breathed, every word leaving her lips as if it caused her pain to utter. "You—you—have deceived me."

"No, Luce," he said quickly.

"Yes, yes! When I left here you——Is it not true that you intended asking me to be your wife, to renew our engagement? Answer!"

She glanced up at him, her teeth showing between her parted lips.

He inclined his head.

"Yes, it is true; but I had not met—I had not heard——Oh, what is the use of all this recrimination, Luce? I am engaged to the girl I love."

She raised her hand as if to strike him. He caught it gently, and as gently released it.

"I will go," she panted. "I will go at once. Be good enough to order my carriage——"

She put her hand to her head as if she did not know what she was saying; and Drake's heart ached with pity for her—at that moment, at any rate.

"Don't think too hardly of me, Luce," he said, in a low voice. "And you have not lost much, remember."

She clasped her hands and swayed to and fro for a moment.

"I see! It is your revenge. I once jilted you, and now——"

"For God's sake, don't say—don't think——No man could be so base, so vile!" he said sternly.

She laughed.

"It is your revenge; I see it. Yes, you have scored. I will go—at once. Open the door, please!"

There was nothing else to be done. He opened the door for her, and she swept past him. Outside, she paused for a moment, as if she did not know where she was, or in which direction her room lay; then she went slowly—almost staggered—down the corridor, and, bursting into her room, fell into a chair.

So sudden was her entrance, so tragic her collapse, that the nervous Burden uttered a faint shriek.

"Oh, my lady! what is the matter?" she cried, her hand against her heart.

Lady Luce sat with her chin in her hands, her eyes gleaming from her white face, in silence for a moment; then she laughed, the laugh which borders on hysteria.

"Congratulate me, Burden!" she said bitterly; "congratulate me! Lord Angleford is engaged!"

Burden stared at her.

"To—to your ladyship?" she said, but doubtfully. "I do congratulate you."

"You fool!" cried Luce savagely. "He is engaged to another woman. He has jilted me! Oh, I think I shall go mad! Jilted me! Yes, it is that, and no less. Oh, my head! my head!"

Burden hurried to her with the eau de Cologne, but Lady Luce pushed it away.

"Keep out of my sight! I can't bear the sight of any human being! Engaged! 'I am engaged to Miss Lorton!'"—she mimicked Drake's voice in bitter mockery.

Burden started, and let the eau de Cologne bottle fall with a soft thud to the floor.

"What—what name did your ladyship say?" she gasped, her face as white as her mistress's, her eyes starting.

Lady Luce glared at her.

"You fool! Are you deaf? Lorton! Lorton!" she almost snarled at the woman.

Burden stooped to pick up the bottle, but staggered and clutched a chair, and Lady Luce watched her with half-distraught gaze.

"What is the matter with you? Why do you behave like a lunatic?" she demanded. "Do you know this girl? Answer!"

Burden moistened her lips.

"Is it the young lady—who helped catch Ted—I mean the burglar, my lady?" she asked hoarsely.

"I suppose so. Yes. Well? Speak out—don't keep me waiting. I'm in no humor to be trifled with. You know her—something about her?"

Burden tried to control her shaking voice.

"If—if it is the same young lady who was at Lady Wolfer's——I was her maid, you remember——"

"I remember, you fool! Quick!"

"Then—then I know something. She's very pretty—and young, with dark hair——"

Lady Luce sprang to her feet.

"You idiot! You drive me mad. I've not seen her. But if it be the same——Well—well?"

"Then—then Lord Angleford is to be pitied. He has been deceived—deceived cruelly," said Burden, in gasps.

Lady Luce caught her by the shoulders and glared into her quailing eyes.

"Listen to me, Burden: pull yourself together. Tell me what you know—tell me this instant! Well? Sit there in that chair. Now!" She pressed the shoulders she still held with the gesture of an Arab slave driver. "Now, quick! Who is she? What do you know against her?"

In faltering accents, and yet with a kind of savage pleasure, Burden spoke for some minutes; and as Lady Luce listened, the pallor of her face gave place to a flush of fierce, malicious joy.

"Are you sure? You say you saw, you listened? Are you sure?" she said—hissed, rather—at the end of Burden's story.

"I—I am quite sure," she responded. "I—I could swear to it. I was just outside the library."

Lady Luce paced up and down with the gait of a tigress.

"If I could only be sure," she panted; "if I could only be sure! But you may be mistaken. Wait!" Her hand fell upon Burden's shoulder again. "Go downstairs, look at the people, and tell me if you see her there. Quick!"

Burden, wincing under the savage pressure of her hand, rose, and stole from the room.

In less than five minutes she was back.

"Well?" demanded Lady Luce, as Burden closed the door and leaned against it.

"It—it is the same. I saw her," she said suddenly.

Lady Luce sank into a chair, and was silent and motionless for a moment; then she sprang up and laughed—a hideous laugh for such perfect lips.

"Get out my pale mauve silk. Dress me, quick! I am not going to leave the house. I am going downstairs to make Miss Lorton's acquaintance! Quick!"

Burden got out the exquisite dress. The flush which had risen to her mistress' face was reflected in her own. This Miss Lorton had helped to capture her beloved, her "martyred" Ted, and he was going to be avenged!