"Why, what's the matter, Nell?" he asked.
"Nothing," she said. "I have a headache."
"Just so. 'After the opera is over,' you know. That's the penalty one pays for one's first dance. And you were queer last night, too, weren't you? Why didn't you lie in bed?"
"Never mind me," said Nell. "Tell me about this letter. When are you going, Dick?"
A fresh pang smote her. Was she going to lose the boy as well?
"Oh, they don't say," he replied. "They're going to let me know. They may send me abroad; you can't tell. What a good chap Drake is, and what a lot we owe him? Upon my word, Nell, you're a lucky girl to have got hold of such a fellow for your young man."
Nell turned away with a sickening pain about her heart. No; she would not tell the boy at this moment. She wouldn't spoil his happiness with the wet blanket of her own misery. She must even, when she came to tell him, make light of the broken engagement, take the blame upon herself, and prevent any rupture of the friendship between Drake and Dick.
He was almost too excited to eat any breakfast; certainly too excited to notice Nell's untouched cup and plate.
"I must see Drake about this at once," he said. "I think I'll go down and meet him. He's sure to be coming up here, isn't he?" he added, with a bantering smile; and Nell actually tried to smile back at him.
As she took the chocolate up to Mrs. Lorton, she tried to put her own trouble out of her head, and to think only of Dick's good fortune. How she had longed for some such chance as this to come to the boy, and now it had come. But who had sent it? Drake! Well, all the more reason that she should forgive him, and utter no word of reproach or bitterness.