not heard her. The music
had moved him more deeply, perhaps, than it had moved any other. His
face was set, his brows knit, and his head drooped as if weighed down by
some memory. He had been so occupied by his duties as host that he had
forgotten the past for that hour or two, at any rate; but at the first
strains of the music Nell came back to him. It was the swell of the tide
against the _Annie Laurie_; it was Nell's voice itself which he heard
through the melody of the famous sonata. He listened with an aching
longing for those past weeks of pure and perfect love, with a loathing
for the empty, desolate present. "Nell! Nell!" his heart seemed to cry.

"I beg your pardon," he said. "I did not find him. He is here by
chance."

"He must be a very great musician," said the duchess enthusiastically.
"What is his name?"

"Falconer," replied Drake. "He's staying at one of the lodges."

"He played superbly. Do you think I could persuade him to come on to the
court for the ninth? I wish you'd ask him. But surely he is going to
play again?" she added eagerly.

"I will ask him," said Drake.

"Yes, do, Drake," murmured Lady Luce, who had reentered the room and
glided near him. The divine music had not touched her in the least;
indeed, she had thought the solo rather out of place at a dance--quite
too sad and depressing; but as she seconded the duchess' request, her
blue eyes seemed dim with tears, and her lips tremulous. "It was so very
beautiful! I am half crying!" and the perfectly shaped lips pouted
piteously.

Drake nodded, led the duchess to a chair, and went slowly up the room
toward the gallery stairs.

Nell, who had been watching him in a dull, vacant way, lost him for a
moment or two; then she heard his voice near her, and saw him dimly
standing in the gallery doorway.

She stifled a cry, and shrank back behind Mrs. Hawksley, so that the
stout form of the old lady completely hid her.

"Mr. Falconer?" she heard the deep voice say gravely.

Falconer bowed, his violin under his arm, his pale, thin face perfectly
composed. His music was still ringing in his ears, vibrating in his
soul, too great to be stirred by the applause which had again broken
out.

"I have come to thank you for the sonata, Mr. Falconer, and to ask you
to be so kind as to play again," said Drake, in the simple, impassive
manner of the Englishman.

"I shall be very pleased, my lord," said Falconer quietly; and he placed
his violin in p