Nell of Shorne Mills

Nell stood in the center of the room, her face white, her hands shaking;

and Dick, as he peeled off what remained of his gloves, surveyed her

critically.

"If I were you, young person, I'd have a stiff glass of grog before I

tumbled into my little bed. Look here, if you like to go up now, I'll

have a smoke, and bring you some up presently. You look--well, you look

as if you were going to have the measles, my child."

Nell laughed discordantly.

"Do I?" she said, pushing the hair from her forehead with both hands,

and staring before her vacantly. "Perhaps I am."

"Measles--or influenza," he said, with a pursing of the lips. "Get up to

bed, Nell."

"I'm going," she said.

She came round the table, and, leaning both hands on his shoulders, bent

her lovely head and kissed him.

"Dick, you--you care for me still?" she asked, in a strained voice.

He stared at her, as, brother like, he wiped the kiss from his lips.

"Care for you? What----Look here, Nell, you're behaving like a

second-class idiot. And your lips are like fire. I'm dashed if I don't

think you are going to have something."

She laughed and shook her head, and went upstairs. How long the few

stairs seemed! Or was it that her legs seemed to have become like lead?

As she passed Mrs. Lorton's room, that lady's voice called to her. Nell

opened the door, leaning against it.

"Is that you, Eleanor?" said Mrs. Lorton. "What a noise you made coming

in! Really, I think you might have shown some consideration. You know

how lightly I sleep. I've the news for you." There was a touch of

self-satisfaction in her voice. "A letter has come. Here it is. You had

better read it and think over it."

Nell crossed the room unsteadily in the dim flicker of the night light,

and took the letter held out to her--took it mechanically--wished Mrs.

Lorton good night, and went to her own room.

Before she had got there she had forgotten the letter, and it fell from

her hand as she dropped on her knees beside the bed, her arms flung wide

over the white counterpane, her whole frame shaking.

"Drake, Drake, Drake!" rose from her quivering lips. "Oh, God! pity

me--pity me! I cannot bear it--I cannot bear it!"