Dick nodded commandingly at Nell.

"Yes; you go, Nell."

She hesitated a moment; then she raised her head and glanced at Falconer

reproachfully.

"Yes, I will go," she said, almost defiantly.

Drake leaned against the rails in the sunlight, softly striking his

riding whip against his leg. His horse's bridle was hitched over the

gate, and as he waited for Dick he thought of the time when the bridle

had been hitched over another gate.

He heard a step lighter than Dick's on the stairs behind him, and slowly

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turned his head. The sun was streaming through the doorway, so that the

slim, graceful figure and lovely face were set as in an aureole. A

thrill ran through him, the color rose to his bronzed face, and he

stood motionless and speechless for a moment; then he raised his hat.

"How is Mr. Falconer?" he asked.

He had not seen her since the night of the burglary, the night he had

held her in his arms, and the blunt question sounded like a mockery set

against the aching longing of his heart.

"He is better," she said.

Her eyes rested on him calmly, and she spoke quite steadily, so that he

did not guess that her heart was beating wildly, and that she had to

clench the hand beside her in her effort to maintain her composure.

"I am glad," he said simply. "It has been an anxious time--must be so

still--for you, I am afraid."

"Yes," she said.

He stood looking at her, and then away from her, and then at her again,

as if his eyes must return to her against his will.

"I--I am glad to see you. I wanted to tell you--to thank you for what

you did for me the other night. You know that I owe you my life?"

She shook her head and forced a smile.

"Isn't that rather an--exaggeration, Lord Angleford?"

He bit his lip at the "Lord Angleford." And yet how else could she

address him?

"No," he said; "it is the simple truth. The man would have shot me."

"Then I am glad," she said quietly, as if there were no more to be said.

He bit his lip again.

"You are looking pale and thin."

"Oh, no," she said. "I am quite well."

Why did he not go? Every moment it became more difficult for her to

maintain her forced calm. If he would only go! But he stood, his eyes

now downcast, now seeking hers, his brows knit, as if he found it awful

to remain, and yet impossible to go.




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