Nell, of Shorne Mills Part 91

Drake's hand stole toward Nell's, and grasped it firmly. Her head drooped and the tears rose to her eyes, and soon began to trickle down her cheeks. The exquisite music seemed to reach her soul and raise it to the seventh heaven, in even which there are tears.

"Drake!" she murmured. "Drake!"

"Nell, my dearest!" he responded, in a whisper.

Then suddenly the music ceased. Falconer slowly dropped the violin on the bed and fell back, his eyes closed, his face as calm as that of a child falling to sleep.

"Go now," whispered Nell; and Drake stole from the room, leaving Nell kneeling beside the musician, who had apparently fallen asleep.

Drake went down the stairs like a man in a dream, the strange, weird music still ringing in his ears, and walked up to the Hall.

The countess met him as he entered, and he took her hand and led her into the library without a word.

"Oh, what is it, Drake?" she asked anxiously, for she knew that something had happened.

He placed her in one of the big easy-chairs, and stood before her, the light of happiness on his face.

"I've something to tell you, countess," he said. "I am going to be married."

She smiled up at him.

"I am very glad, Drake. I have expected it for some time past. What a pity it is that she should have had to go!"

"She! Who?" he exclaimed.

For the moment he had forgotten Lady Luce.

The countess stared at him.

"Who?" she said, with surprise. "Why, who else should it be but Luce?"

His brows came together, and he made an impatient movement.

"No, no!" he said. "It is Nell--I mean Miss Lorton."

She rose with amazement depicted on her countenance.

"Miss Lorton! At the lodge?"

"Yes," he said impatiently. "We were engaged nearly two years ago. There was a--a--misunderstanding--but it is all cleared up. I want your congratulations, countess."

She was an American, and therefore quick to seize a point.

"And you have them, Drake. That sweet, beautiful girl! I am glad!

But--but----"

"What?" he asked impatiently.

"But Luce!" she stammered. "We all thought that----"

"You are wrong," he said, almost hoa.r.s.ely. "It is Miss Lorton. Go to her at the lodge, and----"

He said no more, but went to the writing table.

Lady Angleford, all in amaze, left the room.

He took up a pen and scribbled over a sheet of note-paper, then tore it up. He filled several other sheets, which he destroyed, but at last he wrote a few words which satisfied him.

Then he remembered that he did not know Luce's address; and, for want of a better, he addressed the letter, announcing his engagement to Miss Lorton, to Lord Turfleigh's club in London; and, like a man, was satisfied.

CHAPTER x.x.xVIII.

Was it any wonder that Nell should lie awake that night asking herself if this sudden joy and happiness that had come to her was real--that Drake loved her still--had never ceased to love her--and was hers again?

Perfect happiness in this vale of tears is so rare that we may be pardoned for viewing it with a certain amount of incredulity, and with a doubt of its stability and lasting qualities. But Drake's kisses were still warm on her lips, and his pa.s.sionate avowal of love still rang in her ears.

And next morning, almost before she had finished breakfast, down came the countess to set the seal, so to speak, upon the marvelous fact that Nell of Shorne Mills was to be the wife of the Earl of Angleford.

Nell, blus.h.i.+ng, rose from the table to receive her, and the countess took and held her hand, looking into the downcast face with the tender sympathy of the woman, who knows all that love means, for the girl who has only yet learned the first letters of its marvelous alphabet.

"My dear, you must forgive me for coming so early. Mr. Lorton, if you do not go on with your breakfast, I will run away again. I am so glad to meet you. Now, pray, pray, sit down again."

But d.i.c.k, who knew that the countess wished to have Nell alone, declared that he had finished, and took himself off. Then the countess drew Nell to her and kissed her.

"My dear, I am come to try and tell you how glad I am! Last night Drake and I sat up late talking of you. He has told me all your story. It is a romance--a perfect romance! And none the less charming because, unlike most romances in life, it has turned out happily. And we are all so pleased, so delighted--I mean up at the Hall; and I am sure the people on the estate will be as pleased, for I know that you have become a general favorite, even though you have been here so short a time. Lady Wolfer begged me to let her come with me this morning, but I would not yield. I wanted you all to myself. Not that I shall have you for long, I suppose, for Drake will be sure to be here presently."

Nell's blush grew still deeper. She was touched by the great lady's kindness, and the tears were very near her eyes.

"Why are you all so glad?" she faltered, gratefully and wonderingly. "I know that there is a great difference between us. I am--well, I am a n.o.body, and Drake is stooping very low to marry me. You must all feel that."

"My dear," said the countess, with a smile, "no man stoops who marries a good and innocent girl. It's the other way about--at least, that's my feeling; but then I'm an American, you know; and we look at things differently on the other side. But, Nell, we are glad because you have made Drake happy. None of us could fail to see that he has been wretched and miserable, but that now he has completely changed. If you had seen the difference in him last night! But I suppose you did," she put in navely. "He seemed to have become years younger; his very voice was changed, and rang with the old ring. And you have worked this miracle!

That is why we are all so delighted and grateful to you."

The tears were standing in Nell's eyes, though she laughed softly.

"And yet--and yet he ought to have married some one of his own rank."

The color rushed to her face. "I did not know who he was when--when I was first engaged to him at home, at Shorne Mills."

"I know--I know. He has told me the whole story. It was very foolish of him--foolish and romantic. But, dear, don't you see that it proves the reality, the disinterestedness of your love for him? And as for the difference of rank--well, it does not matter in the least. Drake's rank is so high that he may marry whom he pleases; and he is so rich that money does not come into the question."

"It is King Cophetua and the beggar maid," murmured Nell.

"If you like; but there is not much of the beggar maid about you, dear,"

retorted the countess, holding Nell at arm's length and scanning the refined and lovely face, the slim and graceful form in its plain morning frock. "No, my dear; there is nothing wrong about the affair, excepting the extraordinary misunderstanding which parted you for a time, and brought you so much unhappiness. But all that is past now, and you and he must learn to forget it. And now, my dear, I want you to come up with me to the Hall."