It was a very miserable fortnight. She felt, for the first time, so debased and degraded, that she would not leave the house, but sat indoors all day, without employment and without hope, only waiting in silence and despair for the assurance of the calamity that had been announced to her. Her sufferings were augmented at this time by the altered demeanour of the servants towards her. She had always been an indulgent mistress, and they had liked her, so that she did not experience anything like rudeness at their hands. On the contrary, it was the increase of their attentions and familiarity that annoyed and made her more unhappy. She read in it, too surely, the signs of the coming times; the signs that they knew her reign was over, and the marriage of their master a certain thing. Nell felt as if she had been turned to stone in those days, as if the wheels of her life’s machinery had been arrested, and all she could do was to await the verdict. It came all too soon. One lovely night, about a fortnight after she had written to Lord Ilfracombe, a newspaper was put into her hand. This was such a very unusual occurrence, that she tore off the wrapper hastily, and turned the sheets over with trembling fingers. She was not long in finding the announcement of her death warrant. ‘On the 28th of July, at Malta, the Right Honourable the Earl of Ilfracombe, to Leonora Adelaide Maria, fourth daughter of Admiral Sir Richard Abinger, R.N.C.B.’ And in another part of the paper was a long description of the wedding festivities, the number of invited guests, and the dresses of the bride and bridesmaids. Miss Llewellyn read the account through to the very end, and then tottered to her feet to seek her bedroom. ‘Lor’, miss, you do look bad!’ exclaimed a sympathising housemaid, whom she met on the way--it was a significant fact that since the news of his lordship’s intended marriage had been made public in the servants’ hall, poor Nell had been degraded from madam to miss,--‘let me fetch you a cup of tea, or a drop of brandy and water. Now do, there’s a dear. You might have seen a ghost by the look of you.’ ‘No, thank you, Sarah,’ replied Miss Llewellyn, with a faint smile; ‘you are very kind, but I have not met a ghost, only the day has been warm and I long for a breath of fresh air. Don’t worry about me. I will go out into the square for half an hour, and that will do me good.’