‘And you would have grieved for me?’ said the earl, pressing her to his heart. ‘Oh, my dearest, you make me feel so happy.’ A sudden impulse, which she could not resist, seized Nora. She threw her slender arms round Ilfracombe and laid her cheek against his. It was the first evidence of deep feeling which she had ever given him. But a moment afterwards she seemed ashamed of it. ‘There is no doubt you gave us a start, dear old boy,’ she said, smiling, ‘but it is over now, and I’ll run down and send Wilkins up to get your bath ready. You’ll have heaps of time. I had already postponed dinner to half-past seven. Make as much haste as you can though.’ ‘One more kiss, darling, before you go,’ cried the earl. ‘No such thing! We mustn’t waste any more time in fooling or the fish will be in rags. I will go down and see that Lady Ilfracombe has a glass of wine. The poor old lady has been crying fit to make herself ill.’ And in another second she had left him to himself. She found the drawing-room people in solemn conclave; the Ladies Devenish rather inclined to be offended at being disappointed of a sensation, and the dowager, telling Mr Portland of the terrible scare they had experienced, and how she thought poor dear Nora would go mad when the news of the riderless horse’s arrival was announced to her. ‘I am sure I thought her mind was going, Mr Portland,’ she was saying as Nora entered. ‘She stood as if she had been turned to marble, and when she rushed from the room I thought she was going to fly out into the night air just as she was after him.’ ‘Of course it would have been an awful thing for Lady Ilfracombe to have lost her position so soon after attaining it,’ replied Mr Portland politely. ‘And her husband,’ returned the old lady sympathetically. It was at this juncture that Nora appeared. She was still pale from the fright she had experienced, and had lost much of her usual jolly, off-hand manner. ‘Ilfracombe will be down directly,’ she said, addressing her mother-in-law; ‘he is going to have a bath before dinner, as, though he has broken no bones, he has a considerable number of bruises from the fall.’ ‘Of course, poor, dear boy,’ acquiesced the dowager. ‘Oh, my dear, what a mercy it is no worse. He might have been killed from such a sudden fall. I shall never feel easy when he is on horseback again.’ ‘Never is a long time,’ replied Nora, smiling; ‘but won’t you and Blanche and Laura take a glass of wine before dinner? I am sure you must need it after the shock you have had.’ The wine was rung for, and when Warrender appeared with it, and Nora refused to have any, Mr Portland took the opportunity of observing sarcastically,-- ‘Surely _you_ must require some yourself, Lady Ilfracombe? I have just been listening to an account of the terrible emotion you displayed at the supposition of Ilfracombe’s danger.’