They rose together as she spoke, and proceeded towards the Hall. When they reached the farm gates, Nell slipped from him without any further farewell, and entered her father’s house. Jack Portland looked after her a little wistfully. He had married her, certainly, but had he gained her? Had she done it only to save Lord Ilfracombe from further disgrace and ruin--to save his countess’s reputation for the sake of his hitherto unblemished name? He was not quite sure, but he had a shrewd suspicion of the truth, and as Mr Portland turned away, he sighed. Lady Ilfracombe was in high spirits at luncheon that afternoon. Jack had actually compromised himself to the degree of _writing_ to assure her she should receive back her letters, and for the first time, perhaps, she really believed him. Her eyes were dancing, and her cheeks flushed with expectation. When her husband asked her how she intended to spend the afternoon, she actually laughed across the table at Mr Portland, as she replied, that she had promised to take a stroll with his friend. ‘Old Jack and you going botanising together;’ exclaimed Ilfracombe; ‘that is a good joke. Well, I was going to ask him to ride over to Pontypool with me, but I suppose your sex gives you the prior claim.’ ‘I should rather think so,’ said the countess; ‘at least, if Mr Portland deserts me, it will be the last time I ever make an appointment with him, so mind that, Mr Portland!’ ‘Don’t alarm yourself, Lady Ilfracombe,’ replied Jack Portland, who also appeared to be in unusually good spirits that afternoon, ‘my word is my bond. Besides, as you leave Usk so soon, it may be my last opportunity of enjoying a _tête-à-tête_ with your ladyship for some time to come. Is the date of your departure definitely fixed?’ ‘Definitely!’ replied the earl. ‘We start _en route_ for Wiesbaden by the three o’clock train to-morrow afternoon. We don’t expect to be on the Continent more than a few weeks, Jack, and when we return to Thistlemere for the shooting, you must join us as usual.’ Mr Portland looked important. ‘Well, I’m not quite sure of that, old chap. It’s awfully good of you to ask me, but we will talk of it afterwards. If you don’t start till three to-morrow, I expect I shall have some news to tell you before you go.’ ‘News!’ cried Lady Ilfracombe. ‘Oh, Mr Portland, what is it? Do tell us at once. What is it about? Anything to do with us, or does it only concern yourself? Is it good news, or bad? Now don’t keep us in this terrible suspense.’ ‘How like a woman,’ exclaimed Mr Portland. ‘How much would you leave for to-morrow at this rate. No, Lady Ilfracombe, my news must really wait. It will come on you as a great surprise, but I hope it won’t be a disagreeable one. Now, there is food for your curiosity to feed on for the rest of this afternoon. Grand news, remember, and something you have never dreamt of before, the most incredible thing you could conceive.’