Lady Trebor's Secret, OR THE MYSTERY OF CECIL ROSSE.

Patea Mail, Volume III, Issue 239, 25 July 1877, Page 4

Lady Trebor's Secret, OR THE MYSTERY OF CECIL ROSSE.

o fliv Mas. Haukiet Lewis.] CHAPTER XlX.— rontrl. “ if you desire to achieve an inclejiemleuce, Miss Rosse, 1 am sure that yon omid not do better,” she exclaimed, “ Ami the work would interest an artist. ()f course, you must do as you think best, however.” Before Cecil could make any response, Mr Pulford sauntered into the room. Under cover of searching for a book, he stared curiously at the young girl, starting at the sight of her beauty and loveliness. Cecil coloured under his gaze, and arose to her feet. “ If you will excuse me now, madam,” she said, courteously, “ I will return to my lodgings and counsel with my servant,” The door-knocker at this moment sounded violently. Lady Trevor paused to listen. .Before she could collect her thoughts sufficiently to answer Cecil the door opened, and the Marquis of St, Leonards stalked . into the room. CHAPTER XX.' TUB SUCCESS OK THE COXSI’IIiAToUS. The consternation of the two plotters at the unexpected and unwelcome appearance of the old lord was too great for words. Lady Trevor’s visage grow livid in its swift pallor. Her haul, black eyes filled with sadden horror. She clutched at her chair with uncontrollable faintness. Mr Pulford stood like a statue, scarcely less startled and horrified. The marquis surveyed them both in astonishment. His keen old eyes could not fail to mark their agitation, but he attributed it to a wrong cause. “ Excuse my unceremonious entrance, Edith,” he exclaimed. “ 1 would not Jet the footman announce me, especially as he said that you were not eug iged with visitors.” Lady Trevor made a vigorous effort at self-control. “ You are always welcome, grandpapa,” she said, her voice quavering in spite of herself, “ 1 sun delighted to see you !” “You look so!” said the marquis, dryly. Cecil had made a movement to withdraw. That movement drew the marquis’s attention upon her. He had not previously noticed her presence, now lie stared at her, bewildered. He recognised her at first glance, as she also recognised him. “ Miss Posse !” he ejaculated, his -stern and haughty old face kindling into sudden warmth and pleasure. “Is it possible ? 1 am delighted to sec you!” Lady Trevor and Mr Pulford exchanged looks of utter amazement and horror. The marquis approached Cecil, holding out his hand. She, blushing like a rose, placed her small hand in In’s, and faltered a response. Something in his looks ami tone;: thrilled her strangely. “ Crandpapa,” raid Lady Trevor, huskily, “ 1 did not know that you were acquainted with Miss Rosse !”

li I owe to Miss Rosso the preservation of my life and property,” said the old marquis, “ I was attacked by two miscreants upon the night after my return to town in a dark little street out of Regent-street. The rascals threw me down, clutched toy throat, and would have strangled me anil rifled my person at the same moment if Miss Rosso had not come to my rescue. Site had seen the struggle, and, like the brave young lady she is, she gave a scream for help and came flying towards me ! The two rascals look to their heels, i have thought of you very often since that night, Miss Jiosse, and am very glad to see you again. lam delighted to iiud that you are one of Lady Trevor’s friends.” It never occurred to the old lord that tin's graceful, high-bred, beautiful girl was less than Lady Trevor’s social equal.. . “ The service I was enabled to render your lordship was too small to merit your gratitude,” said Cecil, modestly. “ 1 trust that you have quite recovered from the effects of the assault.” “ Quito, I thank you. JDo not let me keep you standing, Miss Rosso !” “ 1 was about to go when you came in,” replied Cecil. “ Permit me to bid you good-moruing,” She bowed to Lady Trevor, to Mr Pulford, and to the marquis, who opened the door for her, and watched lur departure with something of wistful sadness in his grand old eyes. “ The loveliest girl I over saw in my life’” he ejaculated, when the housedoor closed after her. “ Who is she, Edith ? The heiress of some noble house, I know.” Mr Pulford discreetly withdrew into the inner room, leaving the marquis and his granddaughter alone together. The widow felt a great burden lifted from her, as Loul St. Leonards indicated by his question- that the girl’s history was not known to him. “ Yon are mistaken, grandpapa,” she exclaimed, “Miss Rosse is not what you think. She is only a sewing girl.”

“Impossible! She! This is not a proper subject for jest, Edith,” said Lord St. Leonards, sternly. “ I am not jesting. The girl has been sewing for me. Do you see my cloak? Is it not a perfect work of art? Miss Rosso embroidered it. I consider her one of the foremost in her trade.” “ But there must be some mistake, Edith, Miss Rosse is a thorough lady, well-educated, and well-bred. She is better fitted fora governess, if she is poor, than for manual labor.” “ Ab, beauty blinds the eyes of men !” cried Lady Trevor, with assumed playfulness. “ Miss Rosse has the outside varnish and veneer of good-breeding, but she is of obscure parentage. "Why, she was brought up on the {Surrey sidle, on some humble stiect of fSontbw rk, and her father is a shoemaker. She lias one sister who is a milliner. On account of her beauty this girl lias had superior advantages, which she Ims well improved. (She looks quite like a lady !” The marquis looked staggered at this declaration, uttered with every appearance of truthfulness. “ If this girl be what yon say, Edith, 5 lie exclaimed, “ then I will never more believe in Mood. (Generations of culture and gentle living are supposed to have a refining effect upon the human body. This young lady shows, if ever human being did, the effects of such culture and refinement among her ancestors. We of the aristocracy, as we c ill it, are no hotter, perhaps, than our neighbours of {Southwark, but they, for generations, have had time only for labor, thought only for wants and how to gratify them. Our ancestors have been among those who made the laws; they have been leaders; they have cultivated their minds and let their muscles dwindle into feebleness, and the result is that we look different, and are different from the people'w-ho have been obliged always to toil. Miss Rosse cannot belong to such a family as that yon describe. I should as soon expect to see a rose blossom upon an apple tree.”

“ Your theory is very fine, grandpapa,” said the widow, “ hut in this case yon arc mistaken. Miss Rosse is certainly pretty, she has been educated above her station, and appears like a lady, but she is not ashamed of her humble origin or of her humble relations.”

“1 can well believe that. (Ranting at once that she has the origin you say I know that she would honor her parents, if they we.ro beggars even. Her pure, sweet eyes show that though she is very proud her pride is not vanity, {she is incapable of looking with scorn upon any one, however humble.” “ You seem to know her well, grandpapa .” “ I judge from her face. I am a student of physiognomy. I never saw her but twice—that night in the street and now. But, Edith, I never met a person who impressed me so singularly and deeply. Do you know her address?” The widow felt a new and keen alarm, which she did her best to conceal. “ She lives in (Southwark, but she did not tell me the street and number,” she replied, with pretended indifference. “ She Avill bring home fresh work for me next week. I’ll ask then for her exact address.” “If my little Alba had lived she would have been about the ago of Miss Rosso,” said the old marquis, thoughtfully. “Ami this young girl’s eyes somehow remind me of the baby eyes of my little grandchild, a deep gloom with sunlight in its midst.”

Lady Trevor stooped to pick up her handkerchief. Her breathing was strangely hurried. The marquis could not see her face.

“Alba might have looked as Miss Rosse does,” he continued, as if thinking aloud. “ But then I never sec a young girl but I think of the little child I idolized. Oh, Edith, I can never forgive you for keeping her from me during those last months of her little life ! I can never forgive you for letting her die away from me. I parted from her when she was baby-beauty and brightness. You sent her back to me in her coffin. ”

“ You are unjust, cruelly unjust, grandpapa ! I would to Heaven I had tiled in her stead !” cried Lady Trevor, putting - her handkerchief to her eyes. 11 You blame me for what I could not help—” “If 1 could only be sure of that. I doubt you, Edith, in spite of all my efforts to believe in you. The little creature stood between you and a colossal fortune—” c * And yon think that I may have killed her ? Why, I was not twenty-one years old at the time !” “ You were old in many respects, and yon were the wife of one of the worst men who ever disgraced the name of Englishmen. I believe that he would not have scrupled to kill a little child who stood between him and a great inheritance. I may be wrong. If so, forgive me. But you wore greatly to blame for not bringing her to me immediately after her mother’s death. That you did not do so, I will never forgive you ? You benefitted by Alba’s death,. The fact in itself is an accusation against you ! ” fTO BE COXTIXUEP.J