Nell of Shorne Mills

"Yours, ELEANOR LORTON."

Men take the blows of Fate in various fashions. Drake's way was to take

his punishment with as little fuss as possible. His face went very

white, and his nostrils contracted, just as they would have done if he

had come an ugly cropper over a piece of timber.

"Where--where is Nell?" he asked, in so changed and strained a voice

that Dick started, and gaped at him, aghast.

"She's----Didn't I tell you? Didn't she tell you? She's gone----"

"Gone!" repeated Drake dully.

"Yes; she's gone to London, to some relations of ours--that is, mamma's,

you know!"

Drake didn't know where she had gone, but he thought he understood why

she had gone. She meant to abide by her resolution to break with him.

Her love had changed to distrust, perhaps--God knew!--to actual dislike.

He turned to the horse and mechanically arranged the bridle.

"It--it doesn't matter," he said. "I'll take the horse down. Oh, by the

way, Dick, I may have to go to London to-night."

"What, you, too!" said Dick. "I say, there's nothing serious the matter,

is there? It's only a lovers' tiff, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid not," said Drake, as calmly as he could. "See here, Dick, we

won't talk about it; I can't. Your--your sister has broken our

engagement----Hold on! there's no use discussing it. She's quite right.

Do you hear? She's quite right," he repeated, with a sudden fierceness.

"Everything she says is right. I--I admit it. I am to blame."

"Why, that's what she said!" exclaimed the mystified and somewhat

exasperated Dick.

"What she has said is true--too true," continued Drake; "and there's no

more to be said. When you write--if you see her, tell her that--that--I

obey her--it's the least I can do--and that I won't--won't worry her.

Her word, her wish, is law to me. And--and you may say I deserve it all.

You may say, too, that----"

He broke off, and slowly, with the heaviness of a man become suddenly

tired, got on his horse.

"No; say nothing, excepting that I obey her, and that I won't worry her.

Good-by, Dick."

He held out his hand, and Dick, with an anxious face and bewildered

eyes, clung to it.

"Here, I say, Drake; this is awful! You don't mean to say it's 'good-by'!

I don't understand."

"I'm afraid it is," said Drake, pulling himself together, and forcing a

smile. "I'm sorry to leave you, Dick; you and I have been good friends;

but--well, the best of friends must part. I shall have gone to-night. I

can catch the train. Look up Bardsley & Bardsley."