Drake sat almost silent. To be near her, to have her so close to him, was all the sweeter after the hateful scene with Luce. Heaven! how different was this love of his to that other woman from whom he had escaped! It was a terrible word, but it was the only fitting one to his mind.
He would tell Nell in the morning. Yes, he would tell Nell who he was, and—and—of his engagement to Luce. It would be an unpleasant, hateful story, but he would tell it. There had been too much concealment, too much deceit; he had been a fool to yield to the temptation to hide his identity; he would make a clean breast of it to-morrow. Once he stretched out his hand in the direction of hers, but Nell, though her eyes were not turned in his direction, saw the movement, and quickly removed her hand beyond his reach.
The fly drew up at The Cottage, and Dick jumped out and opened the door with his key, and purposely went straight into the house. As Drake helped Nell out, she drew her hand away to gather up her dress, and went quickly into the little hall, and he followed her.
Her heart beat fast and painfully. She felt as if she could not lift her eyes; as if she were the guilty one. Would he—would he attempt to kiss her? Oh, surely, surely not! He could not be so false. She held out her hand.
"I am so sleepy," she said. "Good night!"
He looked at her as he held her hand, and at that moment the kiss which Luce had taken burned like fire upon his lips. He shrank from touching the pure lips of the girl he loved while the other woman's kiss still lingered on his consciousness. It would be desecration.
"You are all right now—not faint?" he said; and there was a troubled expression in his face and voice.
Nell thought she could read his mind, and knew the reason of his hesitation. A few hours ago he would have lost no time in catching her to his heart. But now—he loved her, no longer.
Her face went white, though she strove to keep the color in it.
"Yes, oh, yes!" she said. "I am only tired and—sleepy."