ictured her as still "Nell of Shorne Mills," living at
The Cottage as she had done when she and he were lovers.

And it was she--she, Nell!--to whom this musician was engaged! A wave of
bitterness swept over him, and in the agony of his jealousy he could
have laughed aloud.

He had been sighing for her, longing for her, feeding his soul on his
memory of her, all these months, while she had not only forgotten him,
but had learned to love another man!

He stood and stared at them, as if he saw them through a mist, too
overwhelmed to move; but presently he saw Nell look up with tears in her
eyes, and hold out her hand slowly, timidly.

Falconer took it and put his lips to it. The sight broke the spell that
held Drake, and, with a muttered oath, he turned and walked away quickly
through the wood toward the house.

The first dinner bell was ringing as he entered the hall. Most of the
guests had gone up to dress, but one or two still lingered in the hall,
and among them Lady Angleford and Lady Luce. The former came to meet him
as he entered.

"Why, where have you been, Drake?" she said, with the little maternal
manner with which she always addressed him.

Lady Luce was lounging in a chair, playing with a grayhound, and she
looked up at him with a smile, then lowered her eyes, as if she were
afraid their welcome should be too marked.

"I've been for a walk," he said. His face was flushed, his eyes
bright--too bright--with suppressed emotion. "I've been lunching at the
Styles' farm----"

"That's a long way! Aren't you tired? Will you have some tea? I'll get
some made in a moment or two. Do!"

"No, no; thanks!" he said, as he pitched his cap on the stand. "It's too
late."

As he spoke he went up to Lady Luce and looked down at her, his face
still flushed, his eyes still unnaturally bright.

"What have you been doing with yourself, Luce?" he asked.

She glanced up at him for a moment, then lowered her eyes and drew the
dog's sleek head close to her.

"I don't know," she said, with a slight shrug of the shoulders.
"Nothing, I think. It has been an awfully long day."

"Luce has been bored to death, and--for once--has admitted it," said
Lady Angleford, laughing. "Her yawns and sighs have been too awful for
words."

He stood and looked down at her. She was perfectly dressed, and looked
like a girl in the light frock, with its plain blouse and neat sailor
knot. At any rate, if he married her he would have a beauti