As she dressed herself with trembling hands, she kept saying to
herself--her lips quivering with the unspoken words: "I have lost Drake--I have lost Drake; I have got to bear it!"

He would be here presently--or, perhaps, he would not come. Perhaps he
would write to her. And yet, no; that would not be like him; he was no
coward; he would come and tell her the truth, would ask her to forgive
him.

And what should she say? Yes; she would forgive him; she would make no
"scene" with him; she would not utter one word of reproach, but just
tell him that he was free. She would even smile, if she could; would
assure him that she was not going to break her heart because the woman
he had loved before he had met her--Nell--had won him back. After all,
he was not to blame. How could any man resist such a woman as Lady Luce?
She--Nell--was just an interlude in his life's story; he had thought
himself in love with her; and, perhaps, if this beautiful creature,
before whom all hearts seemed to go down, had not desired to lure him
back, he would have remained faithful to the "little girl" whom he had
chanced to meet at that "out-of-the-way place in Devonshire, don't you
know." Nell could almost hear Lady Luce referring to the episode in
these terms, if ever it should come to her ears.