She turned her head and looked at him. The sun had come out, and shone through the muslin curtains upon her pretty face and soft brown hair. "I!" she said, surprised and startled. "I! Do you want me to go?" "Yes," he said. He stood, his eyes fixed on hers, his brows knit in suspense and anxiety. "Why?" she asked. He came a little nearer, but did not stretch out his hands, though he longed to do so. "Because--I want you," he replied. She looked at him, and something in his eyes, something new, strange, and perplexing, made her heart beat fast, and caused the blood to rush to her face. "You--want--me?" she said, in a low voice, which quavered. Its tremor drew him to her, and he held out his arms. "Yes; I have wanted you--I have always wanted you. Ada, forgive me! Come to me!" She half yielded, then she shrank back, her face white, her eyes full of remorse and something like fear. "You--you don't know!" she panted. "Yes, I know all--enough!" he said. "It was my fault as much--more than yours. Forgive me, Ada! Let us forget the past; let us begin our lives from to-day--this hour! No, don't speak! It is not necessary to say a word. Don't let us look back, but forward--forward! Ada, I love you! I have loved you all along, but I was a fool and blind; but my eyes are opened, and----Do you care for me? Or is it too late?" She closed her eyes, and seemed as if about to fall, but he caught her in his arms, and, with a sob, she hid her face on his breast, weeping passionately. * * * * * Nell sank into a corner of the luxurious carriage, and stared vacantly before her. The reaction had set in, and she felt bewildered and confused. She was leaving Wolfer House "under a cloud." For all her life one person, at least--Lord Wolfer--would deem her guilty of misconduct. She shuddered and closed her eyes. How should she account to mamma for her sudden return? Then she tried to console herself, to ease her aching heart with the thought of the meeting, the reconciliation of the husband and wife. She had not sacrificed herself in vain, not in vain! What did it matter that the earl deemed her guilty? As she had said, she was nobody, a girl for whom no one cared. She was going back to Shorne Mills. Well, thank God for that! In six hours she would be home. Home! Her heart ached at the word, ached with the longing for rest and peace. She found that a train did not start until three, and she walked up and down the station for some time, trying to forget her unhappiness in the bustle and confusion which, even at the end of this nineteenth century, make traveling a burden and a trial.