‘When I lived with Lord Ilfracombe, I saw the bad influence this man had over him—how he led him into extravagance and vice, and took the occasion of their so-called friendship to rob him of his money and make him risk his good name.’
‘I have seen the same, of course,’ said the countess; ‘but Ilfracombe is so infatuated with Portland, that he will believe nothing against him. But now that I have these letters, I will make my husband break with him, if I die for it.’
‘Yes, do—do!’ cried Nell; ‘and if need be, tell him everything, so that he sees him in his true colours. Save Lord Ilfracombe from further contamination, as you value his happiness and his honour.’
‘And what am I to do for you, dear Nell?’ asked Nora, as she took the other’s hand. ‘How can I make you happy in return for the great happiness you have given me? Let me do something for you. Don’t be proud, as you were that day at the farm, and send me away miserable. Give me an opportunity of proving my gratitude.’
‘Do you mean that? Do you say it in earnest?’
‘Indeed, indeed I do.’
‘Then love him, Lady Ilfracombe, love him with all your heart and soul, and never let him cast one regretful look backwards, or blame himself for things which were beyond his control. Tell him, if ever he should speak to you of me, that I acquiesced in all his decisions, and thought them for the best—that he was right to marry, and that I thanked God he had secured a wife who loved him, and whom I heard say so with her own lips.’
‘You loved him very dearly, Nell?’
Nell’s answer to this question was to sit down suddenly on the grass, and burst into tears, covering her poor face with her attenuated hands, and rocking herself two and fro in her speechless misery. Nora sat down beside her, and threw her arm round her waist. She remembered nothing then but that here was—not her husband’s former mistress—but another woman, as loving and as entitled to happiness as herself, who had lost by her gain.
‘Nell, Nell,’ she whispered. ‘Poor, dear Nell! Don’t cry. Ilfracombe remembers and loves you still. It is a cruel fate that makes our two lots so different. Oh, poor Nell! don’t sob like that or you will break my heart.’