‘I did. Everyone who knew him knew her. What of it? Are you getting up a little jealousy of the dead for future use?’ ‘Don’t talk nonsense. Am I the sort of woman to go raving mad on account of my husband’s former peccadilloes? But what became of her?’ At this juncture Nell became keenly attentive. She thrust her head as far as she dared out of the window, and did not lose a single word. ‘By Jove! no,’ laughed Portland, ‘I cannot imagine your ladyship being jealous of anything, or anyone who had not the power to take your beloved coronet from you. But surely you know what became of the poor girl? She is dead. She drowned herself when Ilfracombe sent home word that he was about to marry you, and told old Sterndale to give her “the genteel kick out.”’ ‘Poor child,’ said the countess, compassionately, ‘it was very terrible, if true. But what proofs were there of her doing so? Was the body ever found?’ ‘I believe not. But don’t talk of it, please. I had a sincere regard for Miss Llewellyn, and the thought of her dreadful end makes me sad.’ ‘_You_ feeling for anyone of your fellow-creatures, Jack?’ replied Nora incredulously. ‘You must have been very hard hit. But I really want to know if there was any doubt of her death. I have a particular reason for asking.’ ‘I heard there was no doubt. That is all I can tell you, Lady Ilfracombe.’ ‘What was she like, Jack?’ urged Nora. ‘Very handsome indeed, more than handsome, beautiful; with the most glorious golden chesnut hair imaginable, and large hazel eyes, with dark brows and lashes, and a straight nose and good mouth and chin. A lovely figure, too, tall and graceful, though with large hands and feet. A remarkable-looking young woman, Nora, and it is a feather in your cap to have driven her memory so completely from Ilfracombe’s heart.’ ‘But I am not sure that I _have_ driven it. Ilfracombe is very touchy on the subject now, and cannot bear her name to be mentioned. But I tell you what, Jack, she is no more dead than I am, for I have seen her.’ ‘My God! Where?’ exclaimed Mr Portland excitedly. ‘Why, in this very house. Don’t you remember Sir Archibald telling us that the young woman who stopped Lady Bowmant’s cobs must have been one of the Llewellyns? I came over here the same afternoon to see her and thank her more particularly than I had been able to do, and if the girl I saw is not Nell Llewellyn, I’ll eat my hat. She answers to your description exactly.’ ‘You don’t mean to say so! It never entered into my calculations. I had made so sure that she was gone. Have you mentioned your suspicions to Ilfracombe?’ ‘No fear. I’m not such a fool as I look. Why should I raise up all the old feelings in him, just as he is settling down so nicely with me? But I should like to know it is true, and to know for certain. It is a dreadful thing to have a girl’s death at one’s door. So I thought I would tell you, and you could find out for me.’