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

Patea Mail, Volume III, Issue 266, 31 October 1877, Page 4

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

[By Hits. Harriet Lewis.]

CHAPTER XXXVlll.— contd.

She sighed heavily. Maldred Graf.on had visited her that day, reported the failure of his own private efforts to find Cecil Rosso, and had borrowed a hundred pounds of her with which to prosecute his search. The proud lady felt humiliated in receiving the report of her confederate. She blushed now in thinking how she, the carl’s mother, had persuaded his trusted friend to play the traitor to him. “ It is for Gordon’s good I” she said 16 herself. “ If the girl is found, Maldred Grafton must and shall many her. If she were in my house at this moment I’d give her up to 'Grafton to save my sou !” It was at this point in her rnusiugs that the earl entered her presence. She arose to greet him, blushing like a girl. Her proud old eyes filled with tenderness ; she stood erect and stately as a palm, and stretched out her arms to him in welcome. The earl hastened to embrace her. He kissed her affectionately, but to the mother’s jealous heart something of his old tenderness was lacking. He was troubled and prc-occupicd, and she believed that his heart was estranged from her. “ What nows, Gordon?” she asked, resuming her seat, her lips trembling. “No news,” responded the earl, gloomily. “ 1 went to Munich to find that 1 had followed an English lady and her daughter. Have you no news for rue ?” “ None whatever. There is a note on the table addressed to you, which was sent by Lady Trevor two clays since.’’ “ Lady Trevor wishes to see me,” ho said. “ She may have received news. 1 will dress and go to her immediately. 1 will be back to dinner.” He withdrew and proceeded on foot to South Audloy-street. Lady Trevor’s footman announced him and ushcied him into the drawing-room, where the handsome widow, in becoming toilet, awaited visitors. She hurried to meet him, showing signs of emotion which lie interpreted to suit himself. “ You have news of Miss Itosse ?” he questioned eagerly, shaking hands with her. “ Has she written to yon, Lady Trevor, in regard to her broken engagement ?” “ None whatever. Sit down, Gordon, Why do you persist in searching for a woman who is dead, or who does not care for yon ? Believe me, il Miss Itosse loved you she would find means to communicate with yon. I presume, if she lives, that she is in Australia or America, and that she has long since forgotten yon.” “ I do not agree with you, Lady Trevor—” “ It used to bo Edith,” __ said the widow, reproachfully. “ Have I forfeited your friendship, or do you torget that wo are distantly akin ? I don’t know how to understand your coldness.” “ I did not intend to seem cold, Edith,” replied the earl, gravely. “ We arc distant cousins, and I can never regard you ns a stranger. Y. our sympathy in my present troubles is very sweet to me.” “Is it, Gordon? Is it really?” asked Lady Trevor, quickly. “ Am I more totLyou than other friends? Forgive mST ron 'wituuu You have your' troubles ; I haveT mine.' I am only a weak woman—not a brave, strong man like you—and my troubles are sometimes too much for me. I wish I were dead, Gordon—l do indeed !” She buried her face iu her lace-trimmed pocket-handkerchief, drooping her head slightly towards his shoulder. ‘ The earl moved away unconsciously. “ You surprise me, Edith,” ho exclaimed. “ You unhappy ? You ? What can be the matter 1” and his voice was full of sympathy. “ Is there anything I can do for you ?” Lady Trevor sobbed softly, “ Is. your grief connected with Lord St. Leonards ?” asked the earl. The widow shook her head. ,/* You cannot possibly be embarrassed pecuniarily ?” “ indeed !” “ Then what can it bo ? Speak out, Edith. Do not think me so selfishly absorbed in my own griefs as to be oblivious to yours. If you- want a friend you know that I would gladly serve yon, Toll me what troubles you.” He took her hand in his, with genuine brotherly interest, full of concern for-her. Lady Trevor hesitated. She had decided to make a bold effort to secure the earl for Irer lover. Knowing his nobleness and chivalry, she fancied that sire might constrain him to become her suitor. But a woman, even one so hardened and scheming as this one, does not lay aside her womanly delicacy without a pang, and she shrunk from the comse she had marked out for herself. It was only when she remembered all that she had at stake that she mustered up her courage for her task. But she shivered like one about to plunge into an icy hath, and her voice trembled as she faltered : “ I—l am in love, Gordon. There, the secret is out !” “ In love ?” said the carl, remembering certain rumors he had heard before his departure. “Not with Mr Pulford,

EiliUi ? Is tliat it ? And do you wish mo to prepare the marquis for your marriage with Mr Pnlford ?” “ No, uo. I hate Mr Pulford !” cried Lady Trevor, petulantly. “He is only my servant, although people say he is my suitor. As if I’d marry him !” she added, contemptuously. “I am glad to hear that. I don’t like the man myself,” said the carl, seriously. “ Ho is plausible, but 1 don’t think him honest and honorable, Edith. And lam quite sure that the marquis -would never have become reconciled to such a match for you. Who, then, since it is not Mr Pulford, is your lover ?”

“ I have loycd him for years,” sobbed Lady Trevor. “He is the noblest man in England, and the handsomest. I worship him—but I fear that he docs not love me !”

The earl looked grave and uncomfortable. But no suspicion that ho was the object of the widow’s affections crossed his mind.

“ I don’t think I quite understand you, Edith,” ho said, after a brief pause. “ You are too proud a woman to give your love unsought—too delicate to confess to such a bestowahof your affections even in your own heart! You mean that you are loved in return, but that the gentleman has not yet in so many words told you of his love. He is poor, perhaps, and too proud to address himself to one of the richest women in England ? Is that it ?” “ No. Despise me as you will, Gordon, I have given my love unsought. I dare confess it to you. I have borne my misery till lam nearly mad. If the man I loved were happy, I could ‘ die and make no sign.’ But ho is not. I see him pursuing a phantom when he might make mo happy, and I might make him happy. He loves one unworthy of him, as far below him as a worm is below a star. And I -watch his coming and going, and mourn for him, and cry at night, and wish that I were dead. Do not think me .unwomanly—oh, Gordon, are you blind ?” Her voice rang out sharply, in a real anguish that came from her soul. The carl arose, his blonde face flushing to the temples. He could not affect to misunderstand her. Her meaning was plain at last. “ You witness my humiliation,” said Lady Trevor, rising also, “ but you are too noble to exult in it. I own the truth. 1 dare to own it for your sake and for your mother’s. The countess desires mo for her daughter, and I love her dearly. Grandpapa desires our marriage. Why waste your life in lamenting Miss llosse ? Gordon, 1 love yon ! I love you ! Will you not accept my love and let mo devote myself to your happiness ? Have pity on mo who have humbled myself, and tell me, Gordon, that I have not done it in vain.”

She waited in breathless suspense his response. She had counted on his generosity and chivalry—had she counted in vain ?” His reply sounded on her ears like a knell. “ Edith,” he said, in a grave, sorrowful voice, in which was only the tenderost pity, the kindest brotherly affection, “ yon distress me, you wrong yourself. I shall never marry unless I marry Miss Eossc. This 1 must say to you in justice. lam sorry for what yon have told me. I trust that you have mistaken your own heart. When you think the matter over you will know that I could not be otherwise than true to Cecil and myself.” TV. Il OT lin ml '111(1 r.‘l i end if. »w----spectfully to his lips. Lady Trevor, with a groat cry of despair, made a gesture to throw her - self in his arms. He retreated abruptly, with an involuntary movement, reddening again to the roots of his blonde hair, “ I must take my leave, Edith,” he said, gentftf. “ I desire to see Lord St. Leonards and Mr Grafton this afternoon. They may have nows for mo” Ho bade her adieu with a.courtesy and respect which oven her unwomanlincss had not seemed to diminish, and took his leave. Lady Trevor sank upon the sofa, sobbing with rage and despair. And at that moment Mr Pnlford, who had witnessed the entire scene, emerged from the adjoining conservatory, saying, with a sneer, as he pinned a bouquet in the button-hole of his coat: “ A delightful little scone, madam. So you ‘ Late’ Pulford ? You shall pay for tliis, my lady, when you arc my wife. At present, permit me to say, it is four o’clock and the carriage is at the door and we are going for a drive in the park. 1 will ring lor your bonnet.” lie rang and ordered the maid to bring Lady Trevor’s bonnet and mantle. The widow would have rebelled and refused to accompany him, but there was a lurking, devil in Ids eyes that compelled her obedience. She entered the carriage with him and they drove to Hyde Park. “ All the world—our world—knows of onr engagement, Edith,” said Mr Pnlford. “ Yon will meet many well-bred stares to-day. Be prepared for them. By.-the-hy, my dear Edith,” and ho looked at her, and she saw again the lurking devil that had scared her; “ don’t think I have forgotten-the scene I just witnessed in your drawing-room. 1 shall pay you all I owe you, after our 'marriage, with interest a thousand fold !” Aijd Lady Trevor knew that if he obtained the opportunity, he would keep his word, [to he continued. J