"Oh, I beg your pardon! I quite forgot. How stupid of me!" Then she laughed softly and looked from Nell to Drake. "But of course you've told Lord Angleford? It is always the best way."
The color slowly left Nell's face; a look of pain, of doubt, even of dread, came into her eyes. Drake glanced from one woman to the other.
"What is it Nell must have told me, Lady Luce?" he asked easily.
Lady Luce hesitated, seemed as if in doubt for a moment, and smiled in an embarrassed fashion.
"Have you told him?" she asked Nell, in a low, but perfectly audible voice.
Nell rose, then sank down again. She saw in an instant the trap which Lady Luce had set for her; and it seemed to her a trap from which she could not escape. It was evident that Lady Luce had become informed of the scene that had taken place between Sir Archie, Lord Wolfer, and Nell in the library at Wolfer House, and that Lady Luce intended to denounce her in the drawing-room before Drake and the large party gathered together in her honor.
For one single instant there rose in her heart a keen regret that she had not told Drake; but it was only for an instant; for Nell's nature was a noble one, and she knew that at no time and under no circumstances whatever could she have sacrificed her friend, even to save her life's happiness—and Drake's.
That chilly morning in the dim library she had taken her friend's folly and sin upon her own shoulders, scarcely counting, scarcely seeing the cost, certainly not foreseeing this terrible price which she would have to pay for it. And now—now that the terrible moment had come when Drake—she cared little for any other—would hear her accused of that which a pure woman counts the worst of crimes, she would not be able to rise, and, with uplifted head, exclaim: "I am innocent!"
She felt crushed, overwhelmed, but she could not remain silent; she had to speak; the eyes of those who were near were fixed upon her waitingly.
"I have not told him," she said at last, in a low but clear voice.