costermonger, Ilfracombe, instead of the grand gentleman you are, that I might prove my love by working for you and with you. Ah, if I only could do something to return all your goodness to me; but it is hopeless, and will never be. You are too high above me. All I can do is to love you.’ And with much more in this strain the letter ended. The excitement that had been engendered in Nell by seeing friends from home had been continued by writing her feelings to the man she loved; but now that it was over, and she lay down on her bed, the natural reaction set in, and she turned her beautiful face on her pillow and shed a few quiet tears. ‘Oh, how I wish Ilfracombe were here,’ she sobbed. ‘He has been away four months now, and my life is a desert without him. It is hardly bearable. And if Hetty or William should hear--if by chance anyone who knows it, like that officious Jack Portland, should come across them and mention it, and they should tell mother, it would break her heart and mine too. If he would only have the courage to end it, and do what’s right. But it’s too much to expect. I must not think of such a thing. I have always known it was impossible. And I am as certain as I am that there is a heaven that he will never forsake me; he has said it so often. I am as secure as if I were really his wife. Only this world is so hard--so bitterly, bitterly hard!’ And so Nell cried herself to sleep. But the next morning she was as bright and as gloriously beautiful as ever, and when she descended to breakfast the butler and footman waited on her as assiduously as if she had been a countess, and the coachman sent up to her for orders concerning the carriage, and the cook submitted the menu for that day’s dinner for her approval. As soon as her breakfast was concluded she gave an interview to Lord Ilfracombe’s stud groom, and went with him into the forage and stable accounts, detecting several errors that he had passed over, and consulting him as to whether his master might not, with some benefit to himself, try another corn merchant. So much had she had identified herself with all the earl’s interests that she more than once used the plural pronoun in speaking of the high prices quoted to her. ‘This will never do, Farningham,’ she said once; ‘we cannot afford to go on with Field at this rate. His charges are enough to ruin a millionaire. With four horses here, and eleven down at Thistlemere, we shall have nothing left to feed ourselves soon.’ ‘Very well, ma’am,’ replied the man, ‘I’ll get the price list from two or three other corn merchants, and submit them to you. I don’t fancy you’ll find much difference, though, in their prices. You see, with the long drought we have had this season, hay has risen terribly, and oats ain’t much better; they’re so poor I’ve had to increase the feeds. Will his lordship be home for the hunting, ma’am?’