Nell of Shorne Mills

Drake hastily scribbled his initials on several lines of her program,

then had to resign her to her next partner, and, in discharge of his

duty, seek a partner for himself.

Lady Maltby introduced him to a daughter of a local squire, a fresh

young girl, with all a country girl's frankness.

"What a pretty girl that was with whom you were dancing!" she said, as

they started. "She is really lovely!"

"And yet they say that women never admire each other," he remarked.

"Do you mean that?" she asked, looking up at him with her frank, blue

eyes. "What nonsense! I love to see a pretty woman; and I quite looked

forward to coming here to-night, because we are to have a famous London

beauty."

"Oh! Which one?" asked Drake absently; his eyes were following Nell, who

happened to look across at him at the moment, and who smiled the smile

which a woman only accords her lover.

"I don't remember her name," said the girl. "But she is very beautiful,

I am told; though I find it hard to believe that she can be lovelier

than she is," and she nodded in Nell's direction.

Drake felt very friendly toward the girl.

"She is as good as she is beautiful," he said; then, as the triteness

and significance of the words struck him, he laughed slightly.

His partner glanced up at him shyly.

"Oh--I beg your pardon!" she said. "I didn't know. How--how proud you

must be!"

"I am," said Drake.

"And of course you want to be dancing with her now? If I were you I

should hate to have to dance with any one else. I wish--you would

introduce me to her after this waltz!"

"With pleasure!" said Drake, wondering what on earth the girl's name

was--for, of course, he had not caught it.

But the introduction was not made, for her next partner came up

immediately the dance was finished and bore her off; and Drake leaned

against the wall and watched Nell.

She was dancing with a subaltern from the garrison town, and was

evidently enjoying herself. It was a pleasure to him to look at her; and

it occurred to him that even if the bright little American, with the

pleasant voice and tender heart, had not stepped in to ruin his

prospects; if the title and estates were as near to him as they had been

a few months ago; if he were moving in London society, in his own

critical and exclusive set, he would not have made any mistake in asking

Nell to be his wife. She would have justified his choice in any society,

however high.