‘_No more!_ Do you mean me to understand that she is dead?’ exclaimed Ilfracombe with a look of horror. ‘Exactly so, my lord. The unfortunate young woman is certainly dead. She had an ungovernable temper, and it led her to a rash end. She threw herself into the river.’ The earl’s eyes were almost starting out of his head. ‘She committed suicide, and for my sake?’ he exclaimed. ‘Oh, my God! my God!’ He bent his head down on his hands, and the tears trickled through his clasped hands. ‘Nell dead!’ he kept on murmuring, ‘Nell under the water! Oh, it is impossible. I cannot believe it. My poor Nell. This news will wreck all my happiness.’ ‘Lord Ilfracombe,’ exclaimed Mr Sterndale, quickly, ‘I beg of you to compose yourself. What if the servants, or her ladyship, were to enter the room. This unfortunate affair is none of your doing. You have no occasion to blame yourself. You did all, and more than most men would have done to secure the welfare of the young person in question, and if she choose to fling your kindness back in your face, the blame lies at her own door.’ ‘Are you _sure_ of it?’ said Ilfracombe presently, as he made a great effort to control his feelings. ‘How did you hear of it? Did you actually see and recognise her dead body?’ ‘No, I cannot go so far as to say that, my lord, but I have every circumstantial evidence of the fact. Miss Llewellyn disappeared from Grosvenor Square, as Warrender can tell you, on the night of the 20th of August, and has never been seen or heard of since. On that night a woman threw herself into the Thames, whose description tallies with hers. Here is the account of the affair published in the next morning’s papers,’ handing the earl the paragraph he had cut from the _Standard_, ‘and on instituting every inquiry, I had no reason to doubt that the young woman, who either threw herself or fell into the river, was our unfortunate friend. With a view to ascertaining the truth more accurately, I examined her belongings in Grosvenor Square, none of which she had taken with her, another fact which points conclusively, in my mind, to the idea of suicide, and amongst them, in her jewel case, I found this scrap of paper, evidently addressed to your lordship, and which I preserved with a view of delivering over to you when you should question me as to the matter you left in my charge.’ Saying which, the solicitor placed the scrap of paper he had found with Nell’s trinkets in the earl’s hands. Ilfracombe read the poor, pathetic little message over and over again, ‘Good-bye, my only love. I cannot live without you,’ and then without comment, having folded the paper and placed it in his pocket-book, he rose trembling from the table and staggered towards the door.