Certainly not poor Nell, who still remained in her dim corner in the
gallery. Mrs. Hawksley had begged her to come down to the supper which
had been laid for her and her brother and Falconer; but Nell, who felt
that it would be impossible to make even a pretense of eating or
drinking, had begged them to excuse her; and when they had gone and the
gallery was empty, she leaned her head against the wall and closed her
eyes; for she was well-nigh exhausted by the conflicting emotions which
racked her. She longed to go, to leave the place, to escape from the
risk of Drake's presence; but she could not leave the house alone, and
to go from the gallery and absent herself for the rest of the evening
might attract notice and comment.

Was it possible that Drake had been near her, so near as to almost have
touched her? She trembled--and thrilled--at the thought; then crimsoned
with shame for the sinful thrill of joy and happiness which his nearness
had caused her.

What was he to her now? Nothing, nothing! She had yielded him up to the
beautiful woman he had loved before he saw her, Nell; and it was
shameful and unwomanly that she should feel a joy in his proximity.

Falconer came up before the rest of the orchestra, and brought a glass
of wine and a biscuit for her.

"I am afraid you have a headache, the lights and the music--they are so
near; and it is hot up here. Will you drink some of this, Miss Lorton?"