Nell, of Shorne Mills; or, One Heart's Burden. Charles Garvice

affair a hideous bore, his injured arm across his knee. There was no deprecating smile of the nervous man; he made no more apologies, and it seemed to Nell that he had quite forgotten her, and was only desirous of getting rid of her and the situation generally. But he looked up as Molly came fluttering in with the brandy; and as he took the glass from Nell's hand—for the first time it shook a little—he said:

      "Thanks—thanks very much. I'm all right now, and I'll hasten to take myself off."

      He rose as he spoke, then his hand went out to the sofa as if in search of support, and with an articulate though audible "Damn!" he sank down again.

      "I'm afraid I'll have to wait for a few minutes," he said, in a tone of annoyance. "I can't think what's the matter with me, but I feel as giddy and stupid as an owl. I'll be all right presently. Is the inn near here?"

      "No," said Nell; "the inn is a long way from here; too far——"

      He did not let her finish, but rather impatiently cut in with:

      "Oh, but there must be some place where I can go——"

      "You must not think of moving yet," she said. "I don't know much—I have not seen many accidents—but I am sure that you have hurt yourself; and you say that you have broken your arm?"

      "I'm afraid so, confound it! I beg your pardon. I'll get to the inn—I have not broken my leg, and can walk well enough—and see a doctor."

      Mrs. Lorton's step was heard in the passage, and the voice of that lady was heard before she appeared in the doorway, demanding, in an injured tone:

      "Eleanor, what does this mean? Why do you want brandy, and at this time of the day? Are you ill? I have always told you that some day you would suffer from this continual rushing about——"

      Then she stopped and stared at the two, and her hand went up to her hair with the gesture of the weakly vain woman.

      "Who is it, Nell? What does it mean?" she demanded.

      The man rose and bowed, and his appearance, his self-possession and well-bred bow impressed Mrs. Lorton at once.

      "I beg your pardon," she said, in her sweetest and most ingratiating manner, with a suggestion of the simper which used to be fashionable when she was a girl. "There has been an accident, I see. Are you very much hurt? Eleanor, pray do not stand like a thing of stock or stone; pray, do not be so useless and incapable."

      Nell blushed and looked round helplessly.

      "Please sit down," went on Mrs. Lorton. "Eleanor, let me beg of you to collect your senses. Get that cushion—sit down. Let me place this at your back. Do you feel faint? My smelling salts, Eleanor!"

      The man's lips tightened, and the frown darkened the whole of his face. Nell knew that he was swearing under his breath and wishing Mrs. Lorton and herself at the bottom of the sea.

      "No, no!" he said, evidently struggling with his irritation and his impatience of the whole scene. "I'm not at all faint. I've fallen from my horse, and I think I've smashed my arm, that's all."

      "All!" echoed Mrs. Lorton, in accents of profound sympathy and anxiety. "Oh, dear, dear! Nell, we must send for the doctor. Will you not put your feet up on the sofa? It is such a relief to lie at full length."

      He rose with a look of determination in his dark eyes.

      "Thank you very much, madame, but I cannot consent to give you any further trouble. I am quite capable of walking to anywhere, and I will——" He broke off with an exclamation and sank down again. "I must be worse than I thought," he said suddenly, "and I must ask you to put up with me for a little while—half an hour."

      Mrs. Lorton crossed the room with the air of an empress, or a St. Teresa on the verge of a great mission, and rang the bell.

      "I cannot permit you to leave this house until you have recovered—quite recovered," she said, in a stately fashion. "Molly, get the spare room ready for this gentleman. Eleanor, you might assist, I think! I will see that the sheets are properly aired—nothing is more important in such a case—and we will send for the doctor while you are retiring."

      Molly plunged out, followed by Nell, and Mrs. Lorton seated herself opposite the injured man, and, folding her hands, gazed at him as if she were solely accountable for his welfare.

      "I'm very much obliged to you, madame," he said, at last, and by no means amiably. "May I ask to whom I am indebted for so much—kindness?"

      "My name is Lorton," said the dear lady, as if she had picked him up and brought him in and given him brandy; "but I am a Wolfer."

      He looked at her as if he thought she were mad, and Mrs. Lorton hastened to explain.

      "I am a near relative of Lord Wolfer."

      "Oh, yes, yes; I beg your pardon," he said, with a touch of relief. "I didn't understand for a moment."

      "Perhaps you know Lord Wolfer?" she asked sweetly.

      He shook his head.

      "I've heard of him."

      "Of course," she assented blandly. "He is sufficiently well known, not to say famous. And your name—if I may ask?"

      He frowned, and was silent for an instant.

      "Vernon," he said reluctantly, "Drake Vernon."

      "Indeed! The name seems familiar to me. Of the Northumberland Vernons, I suppose?"

      "No," he replied, rather shortly.

      "No? There are some Vernons in Warwickshire, I remember," she suggested.

      He shook his head.

      "I'm not connected with any of the Vernons," he said with a grim courtesy.

      Mrs. Lorton looked rather disappointed, but only for a moment; for, foolish as she was, she knew a gentleman when she saw one, and this Mr. Vernon, though not one of the Vernons, was evidently a gentleman and a man of position. She smiled at him graciously.

      "Sometimes one scarcely knows with whom one is connected," she said. "If you will excuse me, I will go and see if your room is prepared. We have only one servant—now," she sighed plaintively, "and my daughter is young and thoughtless."

      "She is not the latter, at any rate," he said, but coldly enough. "Your daughter displayed extraordinary presence of mind——"

      "My stepdaughter, I ought to explain," broke in Mrs. Lorton, who could not endure the praise of any other than herself. "My late husband—I am a widow, Mr. Vernon—left me his two children as a trust, a sacred trust, which I hope I have discharged to the best of my ability. I will rejoin you presently."

      He rose and bowed, and then leaned back and closed his eyes, and swore gently but thoroughly.

      Mrs. Lorton returned in a few minutes with Molly.

      "If you will come now? We have sent for the doctor."

      "Thank you, thank you!" he said, and he went upstairs with them; but he would not permit them to assist him to take off his coat, and sat on the edge of the bed waiting with a kind of impatient patience for the doctor.

      By sheer good luck it was just about the time old Doctor Spence made his daily appearance in Shorne Mills, and Nell, running up to the crossway, caught him as he was ambling along on his old gray cob.

      "Eh? what is it, my dear? That monkey of a brother got into mischief again?" he said, laying his hand on her shoulder. "What? Stranger? Broke his arm? Come, come; you're frightened and upset. No need, no need! What's a broken arm! If it had been his neck, now!"

      "I'm not frightened, and I'm not upset!" said Nell indignantly, but with a smile. "I'm out of breath with running."

      "And out of color, too, Nell. No need to run back, my dear. I'll hurry up and see what's wrong."

      He spoke to the cob, who understood every word