e 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 hoarsely. "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 XXXVIII.

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 passionate 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, blushing, 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 comin