Nell of Shorne Mills

"I've--I've rather a headache," said Nell, turning toward the door. "I

suppose it was hurrying up to the farm. It is very hot this morning.

I'll go and take off my hat."

She went upstairs slowly, slipped the bolt in her bedroom door, and,

taking off her hat, stood looking beyond the glass for a moment or two;

then she absently drew an old and somewhat battered pencil case from her

pocket. She gazed at it thoughtfully, until suddenly she could not see

it for the tears that gathered in her eyes, and presently she began to

tremble. She slipped to her knees besides the bed, and buried her

forehead in the hands clasped over Drake's "token of remembrance and

gratitude."

And as she struggled with the sobs that shook her, she still trembled;

for there was something in the feeling of utter, overwhelming desolation

which frightened her--something she could neither understand nor resist,

though she had been fighting against it all through the long and weary

night.

Oh, the shame of it! That she should cry because Mr. Drake Vernon had

left Shorne Mills! The shame of it!