"Why, certainly," said Drake, in the frank, pleasant fashion which Nell knew so well. "Will you send me word? Thanks. That is a fine violin you have." "It was my father's," said Falconer simply, and unconsciously pressing the instrument closer to him, as if it were a living thing, a well-beloved child. He had often sold, pawned his belongings for bread, and as often had forgotten his cold and hunger because his precious violin had remained in his possession; that he had never pawned. Drake nodded, as if he understood; then he looked round. "Isn't there some supper going, Mrs. Hawksley?" he said pleasantly. The old lady curtsied in stately fashion. "Yes, my lord." "Then it's high time Mr. Falconer--and the rest of us--were at it," he said; and, with a smile and a nod, he left the gallery. He would have taken Falconer with him to the supper in the banquet room below, but he knew that, though none of the men or women there would have remarked, or cared about, the old velvet jacket, the musician would be conscious of it, and be embarrassed by it. While Drake had been absent, Lady Luce had stood, apparently listening with profound attention and sympathy, but the movement of her fan almost gave her away, for it grew rapid now and again, and when Lord Turfleigh came up beside her, his hawklike eyes glancing sharply, like those of a bird of prey, from their fat rims, she shot an angry and unfilial glance at him. "Where's Drake?" he asked, lowering his thick voice. "Up there in that gallery somewhere; gone to pay compliments to that fiddler fellow who is playing now." "Gad!" said his lordship, with a stare of contempt at the rapt audience. "What the devil does he want with the 'Dead March in Saul,' or whatever it is, in the middle of a dance. Always thought he was mad! Has he spoken, said anything?" He lowered his voice still more, and eyed her eagerly. She shook her head slightly by way of answer, and the coarse face reddened. "Curse me, if I can understand it--or you," he said, his hand tugging at his dyed mustache. "You told me, God knows how long ago, that he was 'on' again; then he bolts--disappears." "Do you want all these people to hear you?" she asked, her eyes hidden by her slowly moving fan. Her father had been several times to the refreshment buffet, and had "lowered"--as he would have put it--the best part of a bottle of champagne, and was a little off the guard which he usually maintained so carefully. "They can't hear. I'm not shouting. And you always evade me. You're not behaving well, Luce. Dash it all! I've reason to be anxious! This match means a good deal to me in the present state of our finances!" "Hush!" she whispered warningly. "I can't explain now. I don't understand it myself; but I've seen enough to know that I should only lose him altogether if I tried to force him. You know him, or ought to do so! Did you ever get anything from Drake by driving him? He had no opportunity of speaking, of explaining."