"Mamma was ill; but I was not frightened--not at first. She was always an invalid, you know, and I thought that she would get better. But she did not; she got weaker every day, and----" The tears came to her eyes, and she turned away to the fire for a moment. "Molly and I nursed her. Molly was our servant, and like a friend indeed, and the parting with her----She did not suffer much, and she was so patient, so changed. She was like a child at last; she could not bear me to leave her. I used to think that she--she was not very fond of me; but--but all that was changed before she died, and she grew to like me as much as she liked Dick. He had always been her favorite. To the last she did not think she was going to die, and--and--the evening before she went we"--she laughed, the laugh so near akin to tears--"we cut out a paper pattern for a new dress for her--one of your patterns." "My poor Nell!" murmured Lady Wolfer. "Then she died; and the Bardsleys offered Dick a situation--it was very kind and unusual, Dick says, and he cannot quite understand it even now--and, of course, we had to come to London----" She stopped, and Lady Wolfer looked round and out of the window. "No; we had to live in London, to be near the works, you know. We are very comfortable and happy." "My poor Nell!" "Oh, but don't pity us," said Nell, smiling. "You don't know how jolly we are, and how full of amusement our life is. We even go to the theater sometimes, and sometimes Dick brings a friend home to tea; and there are friends here in the Buildings--one has just left me. And Dick is going to be a great man, and rich and famous. Oh, there is not a doubt about it. Though Beaumont Buildings are pretty large, we have several castles in the air quite as big. And now tell me--about yourself," she broke off suddenly, and with a touch of embarrassment. "You are looking very well; yes, and younger; and your hair is long; and what a swell you are!" "Am I?" said Lady Wolfer, in a low voice, and smiling softly. "I am glad. Nell, while you have been in such trouble--my poor, dear Nell!--I have been so happy. How can I tell you? I feel so ashamed." Her face grew crimson, and she looked down as if smitten with shame; then she raised her eyes. "It began--my happiness, I mean--the day you left us. Do you remember the night before, and--and the wild, wicked words I spoke to you?" Nell nodded slightly, and bent over the tea things. "I was mad that night--reckless and desperate. I--I thought that my husband didn't care for me." Nell shook her head. "Yes; you said I was wrong--that it was all a mistake. How did you know, dear? But I did not believe you; and I--I thought--God forgive me!--that I owed it to the man who did love me--that other. Nell, I cannot bear to speak his name now--now that all is altered! I thought that I was bound to go away with him! He had asked me--implored me more than once. I knew that he would ask me again, and soon, and--and I should have yielded!"