Nell of Shorne Mills

"Drake--you believe me?" she whispered. "Don't--don't punish me too

badly! See, I am at your feet--a woman--Drake"--her voice sank to a

whisper, became almost inaudible, and her head drooped forward until it

nearly rested on his breast. "Drake--forgive--me and----"

Her voice broke suddenly.

He was moved to something like pity. Is there any man alive who can

resist the prayer, the touch of a beautiful woman, especially if she is

the woman he has once loved? If such a man there be, his name is not

Drake Selbie.

"Hush!" he said again, but in a gentler voice. "God knows, I loved you,

Luce----"

She uttered a faint cry. It was no louder than the sough of the night

breeze.

"Drake--Drake! ah, Drake!" she breathed, her face lifted to his, her

other hand touching his breast. "Say it again! It's the sweetest music

I've heard since--since----Say it again, Drake. I won't ask for any

more----"

"Don't!" he said hoarsely. The caress of her hand made him miserable; it

had no power to thrill him now. "I want to tell you, Luce----"

"No--no," she said quickly, eagerly. "Don't scold me to-night. I am so

happy now. It is as if I had come back to life. Say it once more, Drake.

Just 'I forgive you'!"

"I forgive you; but, listen, Luce," he added quickly.

She slid her white arm round his neck, and drew his head down and kissed

him. The next moment, before he could say a word, she drew away from him

quickly.

"Go in--I will come presently," she said. "There is some one--there is a

door."

Confused, almost hating her for the kiss she had stolen--with Nell

flashing on his mind--he turned and entered the house by the door to

which she had pointed.

She stood for a moment, then she went toward Lady Chesney. Her face was

pale, but there was a smile on her lips, a glow of triumph in her brown

eyes, as she paused in the light from the open window.

Lady Chesney looked at her, then laughed.

"My dear, you look transformed. Was that--but of course it was! Well?

But one need not ask any questions. Your face tells its own tale."

Luce laughed, and touched her lips with her handkerchief.

"Yes, it was Drake," she said. "What luck! what luck! And they say there

is no Providence!"

"And--and it is all right?" asked Lady Chesney, anxiously.