‘Nora, Nell is a good girl, and I deeply regret the part I played in soiling her life; but there is only one wife in the world for me, and she is by my side. It was very good of poor Nell, very generous, very kind, to have done what she has done for you, and we must think of some means of repaying her. And I am glad to tell you, for her sake and my own, that she is going to be married herself. She came to see me this morning about some business of her father’s, and told me the news.’ ‘Going to be married!’ repeated Nora, with womanly intuition. ‘Are you _sure_?’ She did not mention such a thing to me; and she looked so sad and spoke so sadly, she made me cry. I don’t think she can be going to be married. And when I asked her what I could do to return her kindness, she said,--“Love him with all your heart and soul, and never have a secret from him again.”’ ‘And do you, Nora?’ whispered Ilfracombe. ‘What?’ ‘Love me with all your heart and soul.’ She turned, and threw her arms about his neck. ‘I do--I do! my darling, and never so much as at this moment. Neither will I ever have a secret from you again. There are the letters,’ she continued, as she drew the packet from her pocket and placed it in his hand. ‘They were written so long ago that I don’t remember what is in them; but whatever it may be--good, bad or indifferent--read it all, dear, and judge me as you will. At all events, you will know the worst, and I need not fear that I am claiming your love under false pretences for the future.’ ‘And so this is the poor little packet that has kept us apart for so long,’ murmured the earl, as he regarded it, ‘but, thank God, has not been powerful enough to sever us from each other’s confidence for ever. And you give me leave to do what I will with it--to read its contents from end to end?’ ‘Yes, yes. Only be quick about it; the suspense of your decision is so hard to bear. Perhaps, who knows, Ilfracombe, after you have seen the folly I have written to another man, you may not wish to have anything to do with me again.’ ‘Yes, I should think that was very probable,’ remarked the earl, with quiet amusement, as he placed the packet in the empty grate and lighted a match under it. ‘See! Nora, that is how I read your poor little love-letters of long ago. How amusing they are! But, confound the things! they won’t burn. Come, that’s better. They’re blazing up beautifully now; and I only wish I could see Mr Jack Portland blazing up with them!’ Lady Ilfracombe looked up joyfully. ‘Oh, darling, is that true?’ she exclaimed. ‘Shall we never have our happiness interrupted more by looking on him again?’ ‘Why, rather not! What do you take me for? Do you think I would associate with the man who has played you such a dirty trick, and nearly upset our married happiness? No, my dearest; I value you too much for that. Mr Portland has seen the last of any house which owns me as master.’