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.
"I've just been up to the house," he said, as he flung his cap on the sofa
and lifted the cover from the savory dish of ham and eggs. "By George! we
shall have to slip into it and look alive! The contractors have had a
letter from Lady Angleford. It seems the earl's in England, and wants the
place as soon as possible. The foreman has sent to London for more hands.
I've wired the Bardsleys, telling them we've got to hurry up. It's always
the way with these swells; when they want anything, they want it all in a
minute. Something like ham and eggs! Rather different to the measly rasher
and the antediluvian eggs from the grocer's opposite. But you don't seem
to be very keen?" he added, as Nell pushed her plate away and absently
took a slice of toast. "Miss the good old London air, Nell, or the
appetizing smells of Beaumont Buildings?"
"I've got a little headache; only a tiny one," said Nell,
apologetically. "I shall go for a long walk after breakfast, and you
will see that I shall be all right by lunch."
"Don't talk of lunch to me!" he said. "I shan't have time for it. I
shall take a hunk of bread and butter in my pocket, and nibble at it for
a few minutes during the workman's dinner hour; you bet the noble
British workman won't cut short his precious meal, bless him!"
He was off again as soon as he had swallowed his breakfast, with his
pipe in his mouth, and a roll of plans and drawings in his hand; and
Nell, after gazing from the window at the avenue up which the horseman
had ridden, put on her things and went down to the village, marketing.
It was a picturesque one, and showed every sign of the sleepy prosperity
which distinguishes a self-respecting English village lucky enough to
lie outside the gates of such a place as Anglemere.
It was like old Shorne Mills times to Nell, and her spirits rose as she
walked along with her basket on her arm.
The butcher touched his forehead and smiled with respectful admiration
as she entered the tiny and scrupulously clean shop.
"You be the young lady from the lodge, miss?" he said, with a pleasant
kind of welcome. "I heard as you'd come with the electric gentleman. Ah!
there's going to be grand changes at the Hall, I'm told. Well, miss,
it's time. Not that I've got aught to say against the old earl, for he
was a good landlord and a kind-hearted gentleman. But, you see, he
wasn't here very much--just a month or two in the shooting season, and
perhaps at Christmas; but we're hoping, here at Anglemere, that the new
earl will come oftener. It will be a great thing for us, of course,
miss. But there! you can't expect him to stay for long, he's got so
many places; and I'm told that some of 'em are finer and grander even
than the Hall, though it's hard to believe. A piece of steak, miss?
Certainly; and it's the best I've got you shall have. And about Sunday,
miss? What 'u'd you say to a leg of mutton--a small leg, seem' that
there's only two of you?"
"That will do," said Nell.
"Yes, miss. Perhaps you'd like to see it? It's in the meadow there--the
sheep near the hedge."
The butcher grew radiant at the sweet, low-toned laugh with which Nell
received this practical suggestion.
"I am afraid I shouldn't be able to judge it through that thick fleece,"
she said. "But I am more than willing to trust you, thank you."
"Thank you, miss," he said, as he cut the steak with critical care. "I'm
told that Lord Angleford's in England, and is coming to the Hall sooner
than was expected. And that's good news for all of us. Fine gentleman,
the earl, miss! A regular credit to the country that bred him. I've
knowed him since he was a boy, for, of course, he used to stay here in
his holidays, and durin' the shootin' and Christmas. A great favorite of
his uncle's, the old earl, miss, and no wonder, for there wasn't a more
promising young gentleman among the aristocracy. Always so pleasant and
frank spoken, and not a bit of side about him. It 'u'd be, 'Hallo,
Wicks'--which was me, miss--'how are you? And how's the brindle pup?'
And he'd take his hat off to the missus just as if she was one of his
grand lady friends."
Nell moved toward the open door, but Mr. Wicks followed her as if loath
to let her go.
"Rare cut up we was, miss, when we heard that him and the old earl had
quarreled and the old gentleman had gone and got married, which was just
like the Anglefords--always so hotheaded and flyaway. Yes, it was a
cruel blow to Lord Selbie, or so it seemed; but it all turned out right,
seeing that there wasn't a heir born to cut him out. Not that any of us
had a word to say about the lady the old earl married. As nice and as
pretty--begging her pardon--a little lady, though a foreigner, as ever
you met. Yes, it's all right, and our young gentleman as we was all so
fond of is coming into his own, as the saying is. Yes, miss, it shall be
sent up at once, certainly. And good day to you, miss!"
Wherever she went, Nell found the people rejoicing at the coming advent
of the new lord, who was anything but new to most of them, who, like
Wicks, knew and were attached to him. Before she had finished her
shopping, Nell found herself quite interested in the new master of
Anglemere, and wondered whether she should see him and what he would be
like. By the time she had got back to the lodge, her headache had gone,
and she was singing to herself as she arranged some flowers she had
picked on her way through the woods.
In the afternoon, she went for a long walk; but, long as it was, it did
not by any means take her out of the domains of the Earl of Angleford,
which stretched away for miles round the great house. She saw farms
dotted here and there on the hillsides, and looking prosperous with
their cattle and sheep feeding in the fields, and the corn waving like a
green sea on the slopes of the hills. There were large plantations, in
which she disturbed the game; and parklike spaces, in which colts
frisked beside the brood mares, for which Anglemere was famous all the
world over.
Everything spoke in an eloquent and emphatic way of wealth, and Nell
sighed and grew rather pensive, now and again, as she thought of the
denizens of Beaumont Buildings, and the grinding poverty in which their
lives were spent. But that was like Nell--tender-hearted Nell of Shorne
Mills.
Dick came home to dinner, tired, and approved of the steak, which, he
declared, beat even the ham and eggs.
"We're getting on first-rate," he said, in answer to Nell's inquiry;
"and I'm afraid we shan't make a very long stay here. I'd hoped that
this job would spin out for--oh, ever so long; but it will have to be
pushed through in a few weeks. They're waking up at the house like mad.
Money makes the mare go! And there's no end to the money this young lord
has got. But, from all I hear, he's a decent sort----"
Nell laughed.
"Please don't you begin to sing his praises, Dick," she said. "I've
heard a general chorus of laudations all the morning, and I think I am
just a wee bit tired of my Lord of Angleford! Though I'm very grateful
to him for this change! I wish we could turn lodgekeepers, Dick! Fancy
living here always!"
They were seated in the porch--Dick smoking away furiously--and she
gazed wistfully at the greensward, and the trunks of the great elms
glowing like copper in the rays of the setting sun.
"And, oh, Dick!" she cried, "if only Mr. Falconer could be here! How he
would enjoy it! He's always talking of the country, and how much good it
would do him!"
"Poor beggar--yes!" said Dick, with a nod of sympathy. "I say, Nell, why
shouldn't we ask him to pay us a visit?"
Nell grew radiant at the suggestion; then looked doubtful.
"But may we?" she asked. "This isn't our lodge, Dick; though I have
begun to feel as if it were."
"Nonsense!" said Dick emphatically. "The agent placed it absolutely at
our disposal. A nice state of things if we couldn't ask a friend! Have
Britons--especially engineers--become slaves? I pause for a reply. No?
Good! Then I'll write him a line that will fetch him down--with his
fiddle! What a pity we haven't got a piano!"
Nell laughed.
"Yes, we could put it in the sitting room, and look at it through the
window; for there certainly wouldn't be room inside for it and us
together!"
Dick wrote the next day, and Falconer walked up and down his bare and
narrow room, with the letter in his hand, his thin face flushing and
then paling with longing and doubt. To be in the country, in the same
house with her! And yet--would it not be wiser to refuse? His love grew
large enough when it was only fed on memory; it would grow beyond
restraint in such close companionship. Better to refuse and remain where
he was than to go near her, and so increase the store of agony which the
final parting would bring him. And so, after the manner of weak man, he
sat down and wrote a line, accepting.
Dick stole half an hour to go with Nell to meet him at the station, and
Dick's hearty greeting and Nell's smile brought the blood to his face
and made the thin hand he gave them tremble.
"The fact is, we couldn't get on without the violin--brought it? That's
all right. Because if you hadn't, you'd be sent back for it, young man.
Pretty country, isn't it? All belongs to our young swell. I say 'our,'
because we feel as if we'd got a kind of share in him, as if he belonged
to us. You'll hear nothing but 'Lord Angleford,' 'the earl,' all day
long here; and you'll speedily come to our conviction, that the earth,
or this particular corner of it, with all that it contains, man, woman,
and child, birds, beasts, and fishes, was made for his lordship's
special behoof. Nice little place--kind of fishing box, isn't it?" he
said, nodding to the vast pile as it came in sight. "That's where I
spend my laborious days, putting on water for his lordship to drink and
wash with, and setting up electric light for his lordship to shave
himself by, though I suppose his lordship's valet does that. And what
price the lodge? For this is our residence pro tem."
Falconer was almost speechless with delight and happiness; his dark eyes
glowed with a steady light, which grew brighter and deeper whenever they
rested on Nell's beautiful face.
His obvious happiness reflected itself on her mood, and it was a merry
trio which sat down to the simple dinner, that, simple as it was, seemed
luxurious to the fare which he had left behind at Beaumont Buildings.
After dinner he got out his violin and played for them.
Dick sprawled on the sofa, and Nell leaned back in her cozy chair with
some useful and necessary darning, and--with unconscious
cruelty--thought of Drake and Shorne Mills, as the exquisite strains
filled the tiny room.
Some of the workmen, as they tramped by from their overtime, paused to
listen, and nodded to each other approvingly, and carried the news to
the village that "a swell musician fellow" was on a visit at the lodge;
and the next day, when Nell walked through the village, with Falconer by
her side, carrying her basket, the good folk eyed his pale face and long
hair with awed curiosity and interest, and then, when the couple had
passed, exchanged winks and significant smiles, none of which Nell saw,
or, if she had seen, would, in her unconsciousness, have understood. For
it never occurs to the woman whose whole being is absorbed in love for
one man, that any other man may be in love with her. So Nell was
placidly happy in the musician's happiness, and never guessed that the
music he played for her delight was but the expression of the longing of
his heart, and that when she was not looking, his dark eyes dwelt upon
her with a sad and wistful tenderness, which was all the more tender
because of its hopelessness.