"I like the way you say that," said the countess. "But don't leave her."
He nodded as if he understood, and gradually made his way toward the
group among which Luce and Nell were sitting. As he approached, Lady
Luce looked up with a smile.
"I have been telling Miss Lorton that if there is one thing I adore upon
earth, it is a romantic engagement, and that I quite envy her, and you,
too, Lord Angleford! A glamour of romance will surround you for the rest
of your lives. As I have often said to Archie, life without sentiment
would not be worth having. By the way, Miss Lorton, you know Sir Archie
Walbrooke?"
Nell had scarcely been listening, for she had been wondering whether she
could now rise and leave Lady Luce; but at the name of Sir Archie
Walbrooke, she turned with a sudden start, and the color rose to her
face. Lady Luce looked at her sweetly; then, as if she had suddenly
remembered something, exclaimed, in a low voice: "Oh, I beg your pardon! I quite forgot. How stupid of me!" Then she
laughed softly and looked from Nell to Drake. "But of course you've told
Lord Angleford? It is always the best way."
The color slowly left Nell's face; a look of pain, of doubt, even of
dread, came into her eyes. Drake glanced from one woman to the other.
"What is it Nell must have told me, Lady Luce?" he asked easily.
Lady Luce hesitated, seemed as if in doubt for a moment, and smiled in
an embarrassed fashion.
"Have you told him?" she asked Nell, in a low, but perfectly audible
voice.
Nell rose, then sank down again. She saw in an instant the trap which
Lady Luce had set for her; and it seemed to her a trap from which she
could not escape. It was evident that Lady Luce had become informed of
the scene that had taken place between Sir Archie, Lord Wolfer, and Nell
in the library at Wolfer House, and that Lady Luce intended to denounce
her in the drawing-room before Drake and the large party gathered
together in her honor.
For one single instant there rose in her heart a keen regret that she
had not told Drake; but it was only for an instant; for Nell's nature
was a noble one, and she knew that at no time and under no circumstances
whatever could she have sacrificed her friend, even to save her life's
happiness--and Drake's.
That chilly morning in the dim library she had taken her friend's folly
and sin upon her own shoulders, scarcely counting, scarcely seeing the
cost, certainly not foreseeing this terrible price which she would have
to pay for it. And now--now that the terrible moment had come when
Drake--she cared little for any other--would hear her accused of that
which a pure woman counts the worst of crimes, she would not be able to
rise, and, with uplifted head, exclaim: "I am innocent!"