"What was the name of the lady who--who jilted him?" she asked.

Sir Charles was about to reply, and if he had spoken, Nell would have

learned Drake's identity; but at that moment there came a lull in the

conversation, and before it had recommenced, the prime minister leaned

forward and asked a question of his friend. The answer led to a general

discussion, and at its close Lady Wolfer smiled and raised her eyebrows

at the duchess, received a responsive nod, and the ladies rose.

Sir Archie was the gentleman nearest the door, and he opened it for

them. As Lady Wolfer was passing through, a flower fell from the bosom

of her dress. He picked it up and held it out to her, with a bow and a

smile; but she had turned to say something to the lady behind her, and

he drew his hand back and concealed the flower in it.

Nell, who chanced to be looking at him, was, perhaps, the only one who

saw the action, and she thought little of it. He could scarcely

interrupt Lady Wolfer by a too-insistent restoration of the blossom.

With the flower in his hand, Sir Archie went back to the table. The

other men had closed up near the earl, but Sir Archie retained his seat.

He allowed the butler to fill his glass and raised it to his lips with

his right hand; then, after a moment or two, he took the flower from his

left and fixed it in the buttonhole of his coat.

It was a daring thing to do; but he had been--well, not too sparing of

the wine, and his usually pale and impassive face was flushed, and

indicative of a kind of suppressed excitement.

Perhaps he thought that no one would recognize the flower, and probably

no one did--no one, that is, but the earl. His eyes, as they glanced

down the row of men, saw the blossom in its conspicuous place in Sir

Archie's coat, and the earl's face went white, and his thin lips

twitched.

"Have you any wine, Walbrooke?" he asked.

The butler had left the room.

Sir Archie started, as if his thoughts had been wandering.

"Eh? Oh--ah! thanks!" he said.

He took the decanter from the man next him, and filled his glass. The

earl's eyes rested grimly upon the flower for a moment, then, as if with

an effort, he turned to Mr. Gresham and got into talk with him. No man

in the whole world was more ready to talk than the prime minister. The

other men joined in the conversation, which was anything but

political--all but Sir Archie. He sat silent and preoccupied, filling

his glass whenever the decanter was near him, and drinking in a

mechanical way, as if he were scarcely conscious of what he was doing.

Now and then he glanced at the flower in his coat, deeming the glance

unnoticed; but the earl saw it, and every time he detected the downward

droop of the eyes, his own grew sterner and more troubled.




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