‘Well, Nell,’ said Mrs Hody when she arrived there, ‘and so you’ve come to have a private audience of his lordship. He came to tell me he would see you here at eleven o’clock, but as it was a private matter, he did not wish to have it discussed in the dining-room, so I was to send him word quietly when you arrived. And what can you have to say to the earl, I wonder, as all the world can’t hear?’ ‘I asked to speak to Lord Ilfracombe on some business connected with my father, Mrs Hody,’ replied Nell, blushing; ‘he was my former master, you know, or father would have come himself, but he thought his lordship would rather see me.’ ‘Ah! well, I suppose it’s all right,’ responded the virtuous housekeeper; ‘but I should have thought the study or the gunroom would have been a fitter place. However, now you’re here, please to sit down, and I’ll go and tell his lordship as you’re come. You may have to wait a bit, I’m not sure as they’ve finished breakfast, but he’ll be here, I suppose, before long. Bless me, but you do look dazed, Nell Llewellyn; that fever has run you down terrible. Will you have a glass of wine before I go?’ ‘No thank you, Mrs Hody,’ replied the girl, as she sat down in a chair and leaned her aching head against the wall. Mrs Hody bustled out of the room, and it seemed ages to Nell before any one came to join her. She heard voices and laughter proceeding from the garden, and many other sounds indicative of life and enjoyment, but all about the housekeeper’s domains, the intensest quiet seemed to reign. At last it was broken by the sound of a light quick footstep which made Nell’s heart leap within her bosom, coming along the stone passage, and in another moment, the door opened and closed, and Lord Ilfracombe stood before her. Nell struggled to her feet to meet him. ‘Oh! Vernie,’ were her first words; ‘it is not my fault.’ ‘Hus--h’ said the earl, as he opened the door again and listened to hear if by any chance they could be overheard; ‘you mustn’t call me by that name, Nell, lest any of the servants should have a mind for eavesdropping.’ It was a small thing and a very natural thing for him to say, but it fell on the girl’s excited spirits like a cold douche. ‘I forgot, forgive me,’ she recommenced; ‘it was not my fault (I was going to say) that you received that note,--my lord. I would not have sent it to the Hall on any account, but my father fancied I might have some influence with you in a certain matter, and insisted on my asking to see you.’ ‘It is all right,’ he said kindly; ‘only we must keep to the business--you understand.’