Nell of Shorne Mills

Drake rode over to the Grange for breakfast, according to his promise.

He was glad of the ride, glad of an hour or two in which he could think

over the dramatic events of the preceding night, and, so to speak, clear

his brain of the unpleasant glamour which Lady Luce's words and behavior

had produced.

Not for a moment did he swerve from his allegiance to Nell; never for a

moment did the splendor of Luce's beauty, the trick of her soft voice,

her passionate caress, eclipse the starlike purity of Nell's nature and

personality. If it were possible, he loved Nell better and more

devotedly, longed for her more ardently, since his meeting with Luce,

than he had done before.

All the way to the Grange he rehearsed what he would say to Nell when he

rode back to The Cottage. He would tell her everything; would beg her to

forgive him for his deception, his concealment of his full name and

title, and--yes, he would admit that he had once loved, or thought that

he had loved, Lady Luce; but that now----Well, there was only one woman

in the world for him, and that was Nell.

He found Sir William standing on the lawn, dressed in riding cords of

the good old kind, loose in fit and yellow in color, and surrounded by

dogs of divers shapes and various breeds. He was as ruddy-cheeked and

bright-eyed as if he had been to bed last night at ten o'clock, and he

scanned the well-set-up Drake as he rode up, with a nod of approval.

"Up to time, Mr. Vernon--got your name right at last, eh? None the worse

for the hop last night, I suppose? Don't look any, anyway. That's a good

nag you're riding. Bred him yourself, eh? Gad! It's the best way, if

it's the dearest."

He called for a groom to take the horse, and bade Drake come in to

breakfast.

"You'll find nobody down, and we shall have it all to ourselves. That's

the worst of women: keep 'em up half an hour later than usual, or upset

their nerves with a bit of a row or anything of that kind, and, by

George! they've got to lie abed the next morning! Now, help yourself to

anything you see--have anything else cooked if you don't fancy what's

here. I always toy with half a pound of steak, just to lay a foundation;

been my breakfast, man and boy, for longer than I can remember."

Drake ate his breakfast and listened to the genial old man--not very

attentively, it is to be feared, for he was thinking of Nell most of the

time--and when the baronet had demolished his steak, they went to the

farm, followed by the motley collection of dogs which had waited outside

with more or less patience for the reappearance of their master, and

welcomed him with a series of yappings and barkings which might have

been heard a mile off.