“I dismissed her from my mind, and life went on as usual for a few days; then it seemed to me that Nugent was out a great deal more than formerly. He was hurried, almost ill at ease, during our readings; and, when I asked him the reason, he at last confessed that Mrs. Yelverton had organized regular hunting parties at her house, and had begged him to join them. I submitted gladly, for I had long thought the life was dull for him; and so the days passed on slowly, and we drifted gradually apart. I saw Mrs. Yelverton only once, and then I was almost dazzled by the brilliancy of her beauty. Her coloring was so rich, so vivid, that others paled beside her, and her eyes, of a most unprepossessing tawny shade, filled me with vague alarm. Apparently, she did not care for me, for she never repeated her visit; and I was left in peace till the end came. “I will not linger over the rest, Margery; you can guess it. Nugent had grown to love her--he was bewitched by her beauty; and he whispered to me one evening that she had promised to become his wife. I tried to murmur words of happiness; but my heart failed me, and I could do nothing but look into his dear face with eyes that would speak my distress. Nugent left me that night, hurt at my coldness; but all thought of me was banished in the golden glory of his brief love-dream. Brief! It was but three months after his betrothal that his dream was shattered.” Lady Enid moved restlessly in her chair, and Margery, noticing her agitation, pressed tenderly the hot hands that were clasped together. “Do not go on,” she whispered; “it pains you.” “No, no! I like to tell you, dear,” replied Lady Enid hurriedly. “Nugent was starting one morning to ride to the Gill; he had come into my room to kiss and greet me, and was eager to be gone, when the footman entered with a note. Nugent broke the seal and read it hurriedly, then, with a face like death, staggered to a chair. I begged in piteous tones that he would speak to me, tell me what had happened--for, alas! I could not move!--and after a while he thrust the note into my hands. It was from a man signing himself ‘Roe,’ stating that he had heard his wife was about to commit bigamy with the Earl of Court, under the assumed name of Mrs. Yelverton, and he warned Nugent against her in words that were more than forcible. I tried to speak to my brother; but his looks checked the words on my lips, and he strode out of the room, mounted his horse, and tore like a madman to the Gill.