The butler poured out a glass and handed it to his young mistress without a word. He had seen her excitement and interpreted it aright, but he did not understand why this gentleman should mention it as though it were something to be surprised at. The young countess took the wine silently and drank it. Portland again addressed her. ‘It must have been an awful moment for you when Black Prince’s arrival was announced. Did you really think Ilfracombe was killed? It would have been a great misfortune for you if it had been so. The title would have gone, I believe, to a distant cousin, and the whole object of his marriage frustrated. And you would have sunk at once from the queen regnant to a mere dowager. Aren’t you glad he is all right?’ This was said _sotto voce_, so as to be inaudible to the rest of the party. ‘I do not see that it signifies to you, what I feel, or do not feel,’ said Nora, with her most indifferent air, as she turned from Jack Portand to address some commonplace to her mother-in-law. ‘By Jove, though, but I’ll make it signify!’ he muttered to himself, as he saw the Ladies Devenish secretly amused at the evident snub he had received. The earl now joined the assembly. He was in high spirits, and disposed to make light of everything that had occurred. The evening passed pleasantly, though Nora was rather hysterically gay; but towards the close of it, when the other ladies had retired, and she was about to follow their example, her husband was told that his steward wished to speak to him. ‘Don’t go yet, Nora,’ he called out, on leaving the room, ‘wait till I come back. I want to tell you something before Jack and I go to the smoking-room. Keep her amused, Jack, till I return.’ It was Jack Portland’s opportunity, and he seized it. ‘What an actress you are,’ he commenced, as soon as they were alone. ‘You would have made your fortune on the stage.’ ‘I don’t understand you,’ she said. ‘In what have I acted a part to-night?’ ‘Why, in your well counterfeited dismay at the idea of danger to Ilfracombe, of course. When the old lady was telling me about it, I thought I should have split. _You_--turned to stone with apprehension. _You_--the coldest woman in Christendom! who has no more feeling than a piece of marble! It is ridiculous. You know it was all put on.’ ‘Why shouldn’t I feel uneasy if he is in danger? He is my husband. You cannot deny that.’ ‘Your husband, yes. And what did you marry him for? His title and his money! You cannot deny that. Two years ago you were, or fancied yourself, desperately in love with another man--modesty forbids me to mention him by name--but you chucked him over; why? Because he hadn’t as much money as you expected to sell yourself for!’