Nell woke with that sickening sense of loss which all of us have
experienced--that is, all of us who have gone to bed with sorrow lying
heavily upon our hearts. The autumnal sun was pouring in through the
windows, the birds were singing; some of them waiting on the tree
outside for the crumbs which Nell had been in the habit, ever since she
was a child, of throwing to them. Even in her misery of last night she
had not forgotten the birds; in the misery of her awakening she
remembered them, and went unsteadily to the lattice window.
The keen air, as it blew upon her face, brought the full consciousness
of the sorrow that had befallen her.
Yesterday morning she was the happiest girl in all the world; this
morning she was the most wretched.
She put her hands to her face, as if some one had struck her, and she
called all her woman's courage to meet and combat her trouble. The
bright world seemed pressing down upon her heavily, the shrill notes of
the birds clamoring their gratitude as they greedily fought for the
crumbs, pierced through her head. She swayed to and fro, as if she were
about to fall; for, in the young, mental anguish produces an absolute
physical pain, and her head as well as her heart was aching.
She would have liked to have thrown herself upon the bed, but Dick would
be clamoring for his breakfast presently, and Mrs. Lorton would want her
chocolate. Life is a big wheel, and one has to push it round, though its
edges are set with spikes of steel, and our hands are torn in the effort
to keep it moving.
As she dressed herself with trembling hands, she kept saying to
herself--her lips quivering with the unspoken words: "I have lost Drake--I have lost Drake; I have got to bear it!"
He would be here presently--or, perhaps, he would not come. Perhaps he
would write to her. And yet, no; that would not be like him; he was no
coward; he would come and tell her the truth, would ask her to forgive
him.
And what should she say? Yes; she would forgive him; she would make no
"scene" with him; she would not utter one word of reproach, but just
tell him that he was free. She would even smile, if she could; would
assure him that she was not going to break her heart because the woman
he had loved before he had met her--Nell--had won him back. After all,
he was not to blame. How could any man resist such a woman as Lady Luce?
She--Nell--was just an interlude in his life's story; he had thought
himself in love with her; and, perhaps, if this beautiful creature,
before whom all hearts seemed to go down, had not desired to lure him
back, he would have remained faithful to the "little girl" whom he had
chanced to meet at that "out-of-the-way place in Devonshire, don't you
know." Nell could almost hear Lady Luce referring to the episode in
these terms, if ever it should come to her ears.