Literature.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume XLVI, Issue 107, 10 May 1904, Page 4

Literature.

I* . A SOCIETY SECIiET. 1 'l#dy Harrow was i ; ying. The ■ greatphysician had looked into the .; bright? restless eyes and his face had ; grqtfn vorj' grave. He was gone r: now—gone to tell Lord Harrow ot what was impending. His lordship's |v son was there too—the only one in i all that great house who bore his !" name. He had always betn it spoilt 'P ton, yet everyone liked him and ex- - uused his faults. For Archie would be heir some day. A sudden quiet stupor fell upon the sufferer. The eyes closed wearily, - and a long-drawn sigh escaped the dry, parched lips. With noiseless teet the nurses drew near the bed and waited. Among them stood a young girl, a friend of Lady Harrow's, who had devoted herself to the dying woman from the first moment ot her illness. The girl was very beautiful, with large, deep grey eyes and a mass of fair wavy hair that made her irreHistibl.v attractive. There were times when the sick won,an would let no one remain with her save this , beautiful girl, between whom and herself, despite the great disparity of their years, existed a strong and deep affection. Once mora the eyes opened, and wandered from one to another of the group. Filially they rested on the fair face of Gladys Harcourt, and a ' sititle stole about the sufferer's mouth. With a gesture of the hand she waved the nurses aside, and beckoned to Gladys to stoop and listen to what sho had tosay. Gladys •m----derstood, and the ripe young Hps quivered as she bent her head to listen.

" My dear child, I must tell you something before I die. Don't he frightened. I know I must die. Listen I don't know how it is, dear, but I have always loved you as if ■ you had been my own daughter, ft seems now, as I lie here waiting fir t what is soon to come, that you are 1 bound to mi? by. some mysterious tie. It is to you, therefore, that I turn in this hour—to you that I make liy i tipal appeal. Gladys, my child, I iiave a sacred trust to leave behind ipe—a secret I must communicate hefofo I go to another world. 1 will not burden you with the knowledge oi that secret. It is too sad. ton e . .terrible, to lay upon so fair a head as thine. But lam afraid—afraid that justice may not he done where ' justico is due, afraid of the issue in tho battle between constancy and expediency. Will you undertake to hold this trust for—feu 1 my sake?'' f- Gladys bent her head till her warm fiesh lips rested upon those of the p sufferer. " If it will make you happy," she said in a low, musical voice. " Oh, itj will, it will .' I cannot «. ■ -trust it to anyone but you !" The patient's thin hand wandered = . beneath the pillows. When it leappeared, Gladys saw that it held u little sealed packet. " Look !" whispered Lady Harrow, s : "I want you to take this—to keep X it as your own honour. It means f . everything l —everything to me. Can you read what I have written on the cb ver 7 fc: Gladys took the little packet in her hand and read aloud the inscription '. thereon : " I Lady Harrow, commit thispac- ■■ ket to Gladys Harcourt, who is only ! to open it in the event of Lord Harrow's sudden death, or whenever my a; son, Archibald, shall inherit the title :»s and estates of my husband. If Archx ■ ibald becomes Lord Harrow during p ; the lifetime of Gladyß Harcourt, I hereby enjoin upon her the solemn duty of reading what is here inclosed and of taking whatsoever steps her conscience may dictate." The young voice ceased. "Will you promise to fulfil this ob- ™ ; ligation) my child ?" " Yes."

'• Thank you. And may God, in His great mercy, keep all such dark and anxious secrets out of your life. Kistf me once more, Gladys." Again the lips of the two women met. A deep sigh came from the sufferer as she dropped her burning head upon the pillows. The flushed cheeks grew suddenly pallid, and Gladys, turning swiftly, beckoned the nurses to approach. But their skill was of no use now. Lady Harrow was dead. . And then,'for the first lime. Gladys became aware that Archibald Harrow was in the room. When he had entered it she did not know, but be had probably listened to the delivering of that) lasti solemn trust so' lately cotamitted to her. He paid no heed to her, however, and stepped' quietly up to the bed. Then, goin§ to the door, he summoned his father. ' Gladys slipped noiselessly from the room, and down the broad oak staircase to the deserted drawing room. Her heart was full to overflowing, and she wanted to be alone. For she had loved the stately lady, "who now lay in her last long sleep in the room--ipstairs. with a love as tender and strong as !t had been strange and rare. F.he pressed .the little sealed packet to her lips. " Yes," she murmured, "I will keep tho trust committed to mr-."

It was a year later, and Cinch t Harcourt was seated ;n her daintilyfurnished sitting-room, a copy of the Times in her hand. Suddenly gave a little start, while an involuntary exclamation escaped from her lips. The paragraph responsible for this agination was of the briefest description, and ran as follows :

" While dining at tho Carlton last evening. Lord Harrow was taken suddenly ill, lie was conveyed with all speed to his residence, where medi.ru I aid was summoned. Dr. Harvey Trcmaine found his lordship to be ! lie victim of a serious epileptic seizuii, to which the sufferer succumbed in less than an hour after his return home. Lady Harrow, it will be remembered, died a year ago. Jlis lordship's only son, Archibald, will now succeed to the title and estates ot his father." That was all. Yet what did the news involve ? Gladys had not forgotten the packet which Lady Harrow had committed to her care. Had the time come for her to participate m that dark secret at which the dying woman had hinted. Going to her writing case, she took the paci.e*. from a little secret compartment arid again read its mysterious inscription "In tho event of Lord Harrow's sudden death !" Had some unaccountable premonition warned Lady Harrow of what was to befall her husband ? " Or whenever my .son Archibald shall inherit the title and estates of my husband." Gladys laid the packet down, and began seriously to reflect upon what she should do. One of the conditions had already been fulfilled. The other would no doubt follow in the course of the next few days, and Archibald would Ire publicly recognised as Lord Harrow. Yes, there could be no longer any reason for her to remain

m ignorance i»f this mysterious secret. To do so would lie to violate li e trust which Lady Harrow had boj lowed 011 ht*r. Once more she took up the packet, ami this time s!u! broke the seal.

For upwards of two hours Gladys remained in her sitting-room. No one interrupted her, for the door of her room was locked. Her face was very white, her hands were trembling and the traces of tears were in her deep grey eyes. For the first time in all her life Gladys Harcourt knew that she was on the brink of a treat crisis. A secret, not mysterious now, but fraught with many important and serious possibilities, was in her keeping. And these possibilities tie]tended upon her. Honour, justice, truth—all three were at staKe. And it was she who must cast the die. Yet was this the wish of Lady Harrow ? Once more she took lip the brief little note, written by Lady Harrow to herself, and which had been inclosed with the documents contained in the packet. Hut it contained no more than was expressed in the last six words of that faded inscription

"Whatsoever steps her conscience may dictate." Her conscience ? Then, cost what it might, she must speak o,;t ! She must repair the wrong that hail been done—must give the world the secret that was now hers, and iieis alone. Sho rose resolutely to her feet. It was evening, and she remembered a promise to dine at Lady fee.* ir.our's. Summoning her maid she went to her dressing-room, where she attired herself for dinner. Then, wrapping a soft opera cloak about her white shoulders, she descended the stairs to the carriage. On the steps she was accosted by a messenger, who placed in her hand a letter directed to herself. Sho opened it under the light ill the wide hall, and read the following request : Selgrovo Gar.Nns. S.W.

"Dear Madam,—l ha»e a <-.»ni)i..nicalion to make to you v.-hiivi is of the gravest importance. Can you call here this evening and as eari\ as possible? I will not detain jou for more than a few leinutes. Perhaps it may influence you somewhat if I hint thut my busimss with you to-night is connected uit'i the nceut death of Lord lI.UTOV,'.- Yours faithfullv, "GEOFFREY IUKTOX." " Geoffrey Barton ! V-heve had she heard that name before V Gladys considered as sho refolded U.e nota and returned it to its envelope. Enlightenment was not long in coming. All the world knew that Archibald,now Lord Harrow,was engaged to pretty, piquante Madeline Barton, the belle of the season. The Bartons were fabulously rich, though their lineage and descent were neither so ancient nor yet so unimpeachable as their more aristocratic neighbours could have wished. But when the sun is golden, the sun spots are not observed, so the Bartons were regarded as. very fine people indeed. Without further reflection Gladys entered the carriage. "Drive to Selgrovc Gardens," she said to the footman. "I suppose you know Mr Barton's house ?" The man touched his hat, and, in a few minutes, Gladys was bowling along in the direction of the Bartons'. The carriage drew up before a large house, the door of which flew open as Gladys alighted. (To bo continued.)