Nell lay awake for hours, dwelling on the appearance of the horseman who
had ridden by in the moonlight.

It seemed to her that it was impossible that she, of all persons in the
world, could be mistaken; and yet how could Drake be here, and why
should he be riding up the avenue of Anglemere at this time of night?

The sight of him, if it was he, aroused all the love in her heart, which
needed little, indeed, to arouse it. She had tried to forget him during
the vicissitudes of the last two years, but she knew that he was still
enshrined in her heart, that while life lasted she must love him and
long for him. She endeavored, by thinking of him as betrothed--perhaps
married--to Lady Luce, as belonging to her, to oust her love for him as
a sin, as shameful as it was futile; but there was scarcely an hour of
the day in which her thoughts did not turn to him, and at night she
awoke from some dream, in which he was the central figure, with an
aching heart.

Life is but a hollow mockery to the woman, or the man, whose unrequited
love fills the hours with an unsatisfied longing.

When she awoke in the morning, the likeness to Drake of the man she had
seen had grown vaguer to her mind, and she persuaded herself that it was
a likeness only; but her restless night had made her pale and
preoccupied; but Dick, when he came in to breakfast, was too engrossed
and excited to notice it.