ing to leave Shorne Mills.

"You won't want many more," he said; "but I hope you will let me ride
with you while I'm here. I must be going presently."

"Must you?" she said.

Girls learn the art of mastering their voices much earlier than the
opposite sex can, and her voice sounded indifferent enough, or just
properly regretful.

He nodded.

"Yes, I must leave Shorne Mills, worse luck."

"If it is so unlucky, why do you go? But why is it so unlucky?" she
asked; and still her tone sounded indifferent.

"It's bad luck because--well, because I have been very happy here," he
said, checking his horse into a walk.

She glanced at him as she paced beside him.

"You have been so happy here? Really? That sounds so strange. It is such
a dull, quiet place."

"Perhaps it's because of that," he said. "God knows, I'm not anxious to
get back to London--the world."

She looked at him thoughtfully with her clear, girlish eyes; and he met
the glance, then looked across the moor with something like a frown.

"There is a fascination in the place," he said. "It is so beautiful and
so quiet; and--and--London is so noisy, such a blare. And----"

He paused.

She kept the high-bred mare to a walk.

"But will you not be glad to go?" she asked. "It must be dull here, as I
said. You must have so many friends who--who will be glad to see you,
and whom you will be glad to see."

He smiled cynically.

"Friends!" he said grimly. "Has any one many friends? And how many of
the people I know will, I wonder, be glad to see me? They will find it
pleasant to pity me."

"Pity you! Why?" she asked, her beautiful eyes turned on him with
surprise.

Drake bit his lip.

"Well, I've had a piece of bad luck lately," he said.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" murmured Nell.

He laughed grimly.

"Oh, it's no more than I had a right to expect. Don't forget what I told
you about holding your reins--that's right."

"Is it about money?" she asked timidly. "I always think bad luck means
that."

He nodded.

"Yes; I've lost a great deal of money lately," he replied vaguely.
"And--and I must leave Shorne Mills."

"I am sorry," she said simply, and without attempting to conceal her
regret. "I--we--have almost grown to think that you belonged here. Will
you be sorry to go?"

He glanced at her innocent eyes and frowned.

"Yes; very much," he replied. "There is a fascination in this place. It
is so quiet, so beautiful, so remote, so far away from the wor