Nell of Shorne Mills

She went round like one moving in a dream; her eyes looking straight

before her in a fixed gaze, her lips curved with a forced smile. After a

moment or two she grew warmer; the blood began to circulate, a hectic

flush started out on her cheeks.

Any one seeing her would have thought she was enjoying herself

amazingly; would not have suspected that her heart was racked by agony;

that the music was beating upon her brain, inflicting pain with every

stroke; that she longed, with an aching longing, to be in the dark, in

her own room, alone with her unspeakable misery.

One talks glibly enough of women's sufferings; but not one of us ever

comes near gauging them, for the gods who have denied them some things

have granted to the least of them the great power of enduring in

silence, of smiling while they suffer, of murmuring commonplaces while

the iron is cutting deeper and deeper into their souls. The nobler the

woman the greater this power of hers; and there was much that was noble

in poor Nell. And as she danced, those who looked at her were full of

admiration or envy. She was so young; her loveliness was so untainted by

the world; the delicate droop of the pure lips was so childlike, while

it hinted of the deeper nature of the woman, that many who regarded her

and then glanced at the professional beauty, mentally accorded Nell the

palm.

And among them was Drake. He had gone straight to the smoking room, had

lit a cigarette, and, pacing up and down, had, with stern lips and

frowning brows, revolved the problem which fate had set him.

He swore under his breath, after the manner of men, as he went over the

scene with Luce. What devil of ill chance had sent her down there? And

why--why had she changed her mind? Was it really true that she--cared

for, him still? He could scarcely believe it; and yet the caress of her

hand, the look in her eyes, the--the--kiss----He flung the cigarette

away--for he had bitten it in two--and fumed mentally. And what did she

mean, think? Was it possible that she thought he could go back to her?

He laughed grimly, in mockery of the idea. Why, even if there had been

no Nell, he could not have gone back to Luce. And there was Nell! Yes,

thank God! there was Nell, his dear, sweet, beautiful Nell! His girl

love, the girl who was like a pure star shining in God's heaven compared

with a flame from--yes, from the nethermost pit. Love! He, who now knew

what love meant, laughed scornfully at the idea in connection with Lady

Luce. Passion it might be--but love! And she had left him with a kiss,

as if she were convinced that she had recovered him! Oh, it was

damnable, damnable!