‘You are very cruel to me,’ faltered Nora, ‘though perhaps I have deserved your contempt and irony. But no one could live with Ilfracombe and not love him. He is so generous--so considerate--so unselfish, that a woman would be insensible to every good influence not to feel grateful to him in return. And as for poor Miss Llewellyn, you are mistaken if you imagine you have been the first to tell me of his esteem for her, and sorrow for her untimely loss. He has told me all about it himself, and I have sympathised deeply with him. My husband has no secrets from me, as I earnestly desire not to have any from him. Were it not for these unfortunate letters I should have none. But you have tortured me too far, Jack. I throw up the sponge. I shall tell Ilfracombe on the first opportunity of the boasted hold you have over me, and beg him to end it one way or the other. Let him read the letters and do his worst. It can never be as bad as yours. You have made my married life a torment to me by your unmanly threats.’ She turned away from him as she concluded, and commenced to toil up the steep acclivity that led to the gate. But Jack Portland sprang after her. ‘I am not going to let you go alone,’ he said. ‘Come, Nora, let us part better friends than this. Forgive me for being a little amused at the idea of you and old Ilfracombe having a quiet “spoon” together, and trust me that he shall never trace any annoyance that may accrue from your former little follies to my door.’ The countess did not appear to make any answer to this harangue, and Nell watched them ascend the hill together and pass out of the white gate. ‘And how long is Jack Portland to be trusted?’ she thought, as they disappeared. ‘Just as long as it suits him, and then he will hold his unmanly threats over that poor woman’s head again. Well, I’ve no particular reason to love her, heaven knows, but I can do her this kindness in return for hers, and I will, if only to keep _his_ name unstained by the tongue of such a scoundrel as Jack Portland. They have gone to the Hall, and he will probably not be back for another hour. Now’s the time? If I wait till daylight mother will be about, and liable to break in upon me at any moment. I will slip down at once.’