LADY CAREW’S SECRET

New Zealand Times, Volume LIII, Issue 12623, 7 December 1926, Page 11

LADY CAREW’S SECRET

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

BY

ANNIE HAYNES.

Author of “The .Manor Tragedy,” “The Tale of Lady Hannah, "Lent Lilies,” “Pamela’s Cousins,” "A Pawn of Chance, &c., &c. [COPYRICH T.l

PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS. LADY JUDITH CAREW, Nee Judv Latimer, wife of Sir Anthony Carew, whose secret visit to Abney Court Mansions coincides with a tragedy. SIR ANTHONY CAHEW: Judith’s husband, whose faith in her ia shaken and overshadowed" for a” time. CYRIL STANMORE: Who knows something of Judith's past, and claims to be her first husband. PEGGY CAREW: Sir Anthony’s charming step-sister and 1 Stephen Crasster’s former playmate. STEPHEN CRASSTER: A clever young barrister and amateur detective; in love with Peggy. LORD CHESTERHAM: Also in iSve with Peggy. He has a mysterious connection with one Ronald Lee. CELESTINE DELAFOUHS: Lady Carew’s French maid, of a flighty and inquisitive disposition. MRS RANKIN ! A former employer and friend of Judith's. INSPECTOR FURNIVAL, alias WAL. TER LENNOX: A Scotland Yard detective. SKETCH OF OPENING CHAPTERS. There are some authors who have the gift—we say "gift" advisedly, and not art, for the- real story-teller is burn, not made—of so presenting their story that their characters at ohce become real people and real friends of the reader. Miss Annie Haynes ia emphatically a writer of this type, and "Lady Culew's Secret," which we have* the pleasure uf introducing to our readers, they will make the acquaintance of as charming, as varied, and as realistic a gallery uf characters as any they nave ever encountered in the realm of hction. We venture to predict that before our readers have finished the first instalment of the story they will have made up men minds to follow the fortunes of the beautiful and charming heroine, one wno knows sorrow as wel fas joy, to the end. Lady Judith. Carew, the stately and accomplished wife of Sir Anthony Carew, has, like some other good aud innocent women a secret in ner past, and llKe; a ghost from that past, there appears the figure of Cyril Stanmoro, wno tells Judy, us fie calls tier, that he has come to claim his own. He gives her his address, and she promises to meet him at his fiat in Abney Court Mansions tfiut night. Lady Carew puts forward her unmistakable agitation as .an excuse for sot , dining out that evening, and she urgCs her husband'to go to the Den borough's alone. Sir Anthony is nettled by her insistence, and when he finds the slip of paper giving the time and place of-bjs wile’s secret assignment, his suspicions become certainty. Lady Carew reluctantly keeps her appointment and meets Stanmore, wno claims still to be her real husband. Ho had told her that their marriage was illegal, bat now denies'* it: Judith refuses .to have anything-more to do with him..-He notices thatsh<y has brought a revolver, and takes it from her. In attempting to get away from him she switches off the iignt. Events move rapididly in the darkness. Suddenly Judith i hears a cry, a shot, a groan, and a heavy f aiL Then she hears the breathing of a third person, and with, a shriek of horror turns to , leavethe . zoom.. She switches on the lights, find sees the 'body of Stamnore on tHe floor. Taking it in - her anus, she finds that he is dead. Then she notices bloodstains on her dress, and shudderingly flies'from the'scene of the tragedy,* being i seen. I however, < oh 1 the stairs by the mocking and cynical eyes ffif_ the now. Lori. Cheeterham. Thus far we have but briefly sketched* the opening scenes of the story. Space permits but little more* Sufficient has been said, however, to give a slight foretaste of the quality of the story, ‘'Lady Carew’s Secret," which, with’its sheer human interest and dramatic power, is calculated to hold the reader- hot. only interested but enthralled from beginning to end. > ■ CHAPTER I. St. Peter’s, Kingbridge, was rapidly becoming the church for fashionable weddings,.but even St. Peter’s had seldom been the centre of a larger or more fashionable crowd than wae assembling this warm April afternoon to see Lady Geraldine Summerhouse married to the man of her There was the usual gathering of loiterers round the ° 00 /c 8 ’ - on 10 ®teps of the church; the traffic in the street was impeded bv the long line of private carriages and motors setting down guests. Two .men came round the owner of King street, walking quickly; the sightseers brought them to a standstill. . Hullo, what is this?’’ one of them exclaimed. “Oh, I see, a wedding. Well, I suppose wo shall get through somehow. - ■, ... Both men, though' they \ wore the conventional frock coat and silk hat, had the.look of travellers, or colonials, with their thin bronzed faces. The foremost of the. two had reached the last lino of waiting' spectators, and was just, about to cross the road carpet that was. laid up the steps of the church and under the awning. The policeman put up a warning hand, some guests were alighting, another carriage took its place before the kerk. A group of maid-servants, with baskets of flowers, stood immediately before the two strangers. The man behind turned his head idly as a big dark man sprang from a carriage and handed out tlio tall exquisitely gowned woman, who came up the steps at his side. They passed close to the stranger, hut the beautiful scornful eyes did not glance at him, did not note the change that swept over his face. He, looking after them, caught his breath sharply, incredulously. Then as they passed into the church he leaned forward and touched the arm of one of j “Can you tell me the name °i Ihe lady who has just gone in ” Tta m&i<l looked a little surprised at being snoken to, but the tone was unmistakahlv that of a gentleman; there was an obvious desire for information m his expression; she answered' after a moment’s hesitation. “That was Sir Anthony and Lady Carew, sir.” “Sir Anthony and Lady Carew,” he repeated in a musing tone, a curious brooding look in his light eyes. “Not Carew, of Heron’s Carew, surely—Mad Carew, as they used to call bini?” “Yes, sir. He is Sir Anthony Carew, of Heron’s Carew.” “And she, who was she before her marriage?” There was something compelling about his gaze. The girl answered unwillingly: ‘‘She was his sister’s—Miss Carew’s—governess, sir.” “Ah !” Ho turned away abruptly. His companion leaned forward. “Are you going on, old (nan? Hang it all. if you stay hero much longer wo shall be lato for our appointment, and then ——” “1 am not going on.” The first man’s tone was decisive. “You can manage bv yourself- Jennyn. Perhaps

I may join you later.” His friend looked at him, and shrugged his shoulders resignedly. “Well, you always were a queer sort of fellow. We shall meet later at Orlin’s, I suppose. So long, old man.” Ho disappeared in the crowd. The other scarcely seemed to hear him. He kept his place in the forefront of the spectators, his eager eyes trying to seek out amid the shadows and the ; dimness of the church, one graceful regal figure. He did not notice that after ai time the other man had returned, and was waiting on the other side of the pillar immediately behind him. At last the service, elaborately choral, was aver,- the organ pealed out the wedding march, bride and bridegroom with their attendants came out, and still the light' eyes kept their watch on the interior of the, church. The guests followed. some"*of them found their carriages without difficulty ; others stood waiting in the porch talking and laughing to one another. Sir Anthony and Lady Carew were among the first to come out. Their footmap touched his bat, “If you please, sir, something lias gone wrong with the car; it is iust round King street. Jenkins can’t get it to move. Shall I sall a taxi, sir?” “Yes, no! Wait a minute.” Sir Anthony looked anxious. The big green Daimler was his latest toy. He turned tq his wife. “I must see what is wrong myself, I won’t be a moment, Judith, or would you rather go on at once?” “Certainly not! I would much rather wait. I hope it is nothing serious, Anthony.” As Lady Carew smiled, it was noticeable that the whole character of her face altered. In repose it was cold, even a little melancholy, but the smile revealed unexpected possibilities, the big hazel eyes melted and deepened, the lovely mouth softened into new delicious curves. She stood back a little as Sir Anthony hflrried off, a tall grace, ful-looking woman in her exquisite gown of palest grey chifEon velvet, with the magnificent sables that had been her husband’s wedding gift, thrown carelessly round her. Against the neutral tints of her background against the deep tones of her furs, her clear delicate skin looked almost transparent. Her face was oval in shape, the small perfectly-formed features were aquiline, the eyes were remarkable, big, and haunting, of ;a curious grey, blue in the shadows that yet held yellow spooks that shone in the sunlight, that danced when she laughed. Set under broad level brows, they had long black lashes that contrasted oddly with the pale gold of her hair. One. woman paused as shp paced. .“How perfectly sweet Peggy looked, Lady Carew! Quite the prettiest bridesmaid' of them all.” Lady Garewjs’sniile lighted up her face; she was obviously pleased as she murmured some inaudible reply. The pale-eyed man was justbehind her now. As she turned aside again he stepped out of the crow'd and touched her arm. “Judy!” An extraordinary change passed over- Lady Carew’s face as i she heardthe voice, as she turned and met the .man’s -gaze. Every drop of blood seeined to recede from her cheeks, leaving her white as death; only her eyes looked alive as she stared at him, even her ' lips were blue. “You I” she said slowly in a hoarse whisper, “You!” “Yes, I.” The man placed himself a.little before her, so that in a measure he screened her, “At last’ 2 have found you, Judy l” “But you, I thought you were dead.” The beautiful anguished eyes were strained upon his face in an agony of appeal. “So X should suppose,” the man said roughly with a short hard laugh, his pale byes burning with an inward fire as they wandered over the loyely face, the. graceful svelte form of the woman before him. “But I am not dead, Judy. On the contrary I am. very much alive, and—l have come home for my own, Judy.” “Your own!” Judith Carew repeated slowly. Her face was like a dead mask now, but the eyes—the big, burning eyes were living as they focused on. the man’s bronzed face, as they drew forth some dreadful meaning, she gave a low hoarse sob. “Your ;owM —my' Godl” The pale eyes grew suddenly apprehensive, but the harsh tone did not soften. “You know what I mean well enough. When shall I find my Lady Carew at home to me, Judy?” “Never.” She shot the word out quickly. “You shall never enter my husband’s house. J tell you I will kill myself first.” Sir Anthony was coming back. They could sefi his tall figure towering over the others, here and there he was stopped by the cheery word of greeting; they could hear his laugh. The paTe-eyed man looked at the trembling Woman. “I must see you again and to-day—where?” She sho.ok her head. “I don’t she said -with difficulty. “I have told you you shall not come into his house.” Sir Anthony was on the top step now, only a few paces away. A tall woman in an outre costume of old rose had stopped him; the two were laughing and talking like old friends. The echo of his light laugh, the sound of a careless word made Judith, waiting in her misery, catch her breath sharply. “Go!” she cried. “Go! He must not hear. I forbid you to tell him—now.” The sullen fire in the pale eyes leapt to sudden life, then died down swiftly. “If Igo now, you must see me —you must come to me —later. Look,” he drew out his pocket book and scribbled an address upon the first page: “42, Abney Court, Leinster Avenue, 9,30 to-night. There 1 He tore out the leaf and thrust it into her hands. “If you fail me, Judy, you kuow the consequences.” She pushed the scrap of paper mechanically into her glove, he turned and disappeared in the crowd. Sir Anthony caught a momentary glimpse of him as he came up, and looked after him curiously. ‘‘Who wfts that, Judith? He looks rather an odd customer as if he had seen life in some queer places. But what is it, child?” His tone turned to one of apprehension. “You are ill —faint?” Ladv Carew forced a smilo to her stiff lips,. “It is nothing, Jt was_gg_

1 ’ hot in the church”—hesitatingly—‘‘and the scent of the flowers,” as a passing ' waft of sweetness from the great sheaves of madonna lilies that stood in the nave reached them. “I shall he • all right directly. What was wrong . with the car?” > “Nothing much,” Sir Anthony said carelessly. “Jenkins will soon put it > right, hut you can’t wait here. Monk--1 towers said he would send his brougham ) back focus. Ahl Here it is.” • He helped her in carefully, and to her surprise gave their own address. > “I can’t have you knocked up, and the , reception is sure to be a crush,” ho • said in answer to her look. “X am . going to take you home and make you 1 rest, or certainly you will not be fit for the Denborough’B dinner to-night.” i . The Denborough’s dinner 1 Judith ■ shivered in her corner; she was deadly > cold beneath her furs. Lady Hen--1 borough’s dinners were among the most l select in London; her invitations ; were eagerly sought after; it had been : a tribute to the furore that Lady > Carew’s beauty had excited that she, » who but two years ago had been only , Peggy Carew’s governess, should have > been included. How far away it all seemed to her 1 now, as she laid her head back on the cushions and tried to think, to realise this awful catastrophe that had be- - fallen her. The dead had come to life 1 s All that past, that she had believed 3 buried beyond resurrection, had risen, e was hero at her very doors. ’ Through the shadows of the carriage, . she glanced at Anthony, at the dark rugged profile, at the crisp dark hair r with its faint powdering of grey near the at all that only an hqU£

ago had been so intimately dear, that was now, as it were, set on the other side of a great gulf. Her heart saiilc, she felt si,ck with an absolute physical nausea as she thought of that other face with its bold good looks. It was impossible, she tried to tell herself despairingly, impossible that this thing should really have befallen her, that there should he no way of escape. Sir Anthony watched her anxiously. As the carriage neared their town house in Grosvenor square, she sat up, and drew her sables round her with a pitiful attempt to pull herself together. Sir Anthony helped her out solicitously. As she paused for a moment on the step a man passed, gazing up at the front of the house. Lady Carew caught a momentary glimpse of the big familiar figure, a mist rose before her eyes, her fingers closed more tightly over that piece of paper in her glove as she swayed and reached out a trembling hand to her husband’s arm. With a quick exclamation of alarm, Sir Anthony caught her, carried her over the threshold of their home. “Judith, Judith, what is it, my darling?” he cried, betiding over her. iTo he continued.!