Drake rode over to the Grange for breakfast, according to his promise.
He was glad of the ride, glad of an hour or two in which he could think
over the dramatic events of the preceding night, and, so to speak, clear
his brain of the unpleasant glamour which Lady Luce's words and behavior
had produced.
Not for a moment did he swerve from his allegiance to Nell; never for a
moment did the splendor of Luce's beauty, the trick of her soft voice,
her passionate caress, eclipse the starlike purity of Nell's nature and
personality. If it were possible, he loved Nell better and more
devotedly, longed for her more ardently, since his meeting with Luce,
than he had done before.
All the way to the Grange he rehearsed what he would say to Nell when he
rode back to The Cottage. He would tell her everything; would beg her to
forgive him for his deception, his concealment of his full name and
title, and--yes, he would admit that he had once loved, or thought that
he had loved, Lady Luce; but that now----Well, there was only one woman
in the world for him, and that was Nell.
He found Sir William standing on the lawn, dressed in riding cords of
the good old kind, loose in fit and yellow in color, and surrounded by
dogs of divers shapes and various breeds. He was as ruddy-cheeked and
bright-eyed as if he had been to bed last night at ten o'clock, and he
scanned the well-set-up Drake as he rode up, with a nod of approval.
"Up to time, Mr. Vernon--got your name right at last, eh? None the worse
for the hop last night, I suppose? Don't look any, anyway. That's a good
nag you're riding. Bred him yourself, eh? Gad! It's the best way, if
it's the dearest."
He called for a groom to take the horse, and bade Drake come in to
breakfast.
"You'll find nobody down, and we shall have it all to ourselves. That's
the worst of women: keep 'em up half an hour later than usual, or upset
their nerves with a bit of a row or anything of that kind, and, by
George! they've got to lie abed the next morning! Now, help yourself to
anything you see--have anything else cooked if you don't fancy what's
here. I always toy with half a pound of steak, just to lay a foundation;
been my breakfast, man and boy, for longer than I can remember."
Drake ate his breakfast and listened to the genial old man--not very
attentively, it is to be feared, for he was thinking of Nell most of the
time--and when the baronet had demolished his steak, they went to the
farm, followed by the motley collection of dogs which had waited outside
with more or less patience for the reappearance of their master, and
welcomed him with a series of yappings and barkings which might have
been heard a mile off.