Nell of Shorne Mills

"I'm glad you've been amused, Luce," he said, his eyes resting upon the

beautifully fair face with a touch of cynicism.

"We'd no idea you were anywhere here," she said, "or, of course, I would

have written and asked you to join us; though, I suppose, under the

circumstances----"

She hesitated for a moment, then went on with a little embarrassment,

which in no way detracted from her charm of voice and manner: "I told father that, after what had happened, it was scarcely in good

taste to borrow your yacht. But you know what father is. He said that

though things were altered, your offer of the _Seagull_ stood good; that

you told him you didn't mean to use her this season, and that it was a

pity for her to lie idle. And so they persuaded me--very much against my

will, I must admit--to join them, and--and here I am, as you see."

Drake puffed at his pipe.

"I see," he said. "I needn't say that you are quite welcome to the

yacht, Lucille, or to anything that I have. As you say, things

are--altered. How much they are altered and changed, perhaps your

letters, if I had received them, would have told me. What was it that

you wrote me? Oh, don't be afraid," he added, with a faint smile, as she

turned her head away and poked with her sunshade at the crack in the

pavement. "I am strong; I can bear it. When a man has come a cropper in

every sense of the word, his nerves are braced for the receipt of

unwelcome tidings. I beg you won't be uncomfortable. Of course, you have

heard the news?"

She glanced at him sideways, and, despite her training, her lips

quivered slightly.

"Of course," she said. "Who hasn't? All the world knows it. Lord

Angleford's marriage has come upon us like a surprise--a thunderbolt. No

one would ever have expected that he would have been so foolish."

Drake looked at her as he never thought that he could have looked at

her--calmly, waitingly.

"No one expected him to marry," she went on. "He was quite an old

man--well, not old, but getting on. And you and he were always such

great friends. He--he always seemed so fond and so proud of you. Why did

you quarrel with him?"

"I didn't quarrel with him," said Drake quietly. "As you say, we have

always been good friends. He has always been good to me, ever since I

was a boy. Good and liberal. We have never had a cross word until now.

But you know my uncle--you know how keenly set he is on politics. He is

a Conservative of the old school; one of those old Tories whom we call

blue, and who are nearly extinct. God knows whether they are right or

wrong; I only know that I can't go with them. He asked me to stand for a

place in the Tory-Conservative interest. It was an easy place; I should

have been returned without difficulty. Most men would have done it; but

I couldn't. I don't go in very much for principle, either political or

moral; but my uncle's views--well, I couldn't swallow them. I was

obliged to decline. He cut up rough; sent me a letter with more bad

language in it than I've ever read in my life. Then he went and married

a young girl--an American."