For Her Sister's Sake; OR, THE LAVENDEN SECRET.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXIX, Issue 8318, 22 December 1906, Page 2

For Her Sister's Sake; OR, THE LAVENDEN SECRET.

By R. Norman Silver, Author of **A Double Mask," "A Daughter of Mystery," "Held Apart," "The Golden Dmarf," eic.

["For Her Sister's Sake " was commenced on December 20th.]

CHAPTER L—Continued. "Rather clever of me to get into your circle like this, wasn't it?" he queried softly. "I really am just back from Australia, though I was only there a year, but the voyage out and home set me up, and my stay in the confounded country enabled me to establish a respectable alias among a lot of excellent people. I had to cover up my tracks fairly well after what happened. My new name is very easy to remember—so like the other! Don't forget it, there's a good girl; Garside —James Garside."

His subdued tor.es were quite unlike his ordinary ones —they were perfectly distinct, yet scarcely louder than a cat's purring; indeed vaguely resembled it. "I joined a smart club out here," he said, "one that makes me free of a London club, the Imperial, while lam in the country. That's how I got acquainted with Merivale yonder; we gambled a bit and betted a bit together. Then he got chatty about you and Winnie and the Lavenden peerage and about his sister chaperoning you. He didn't know what he'd done for me, but I spotted you at once, and guessed what had happened. So, as I had first-class credentials, I persuaded him to bring me here. Wonderful creature, the bar-

oness. *' Julia Lavenden sipped some of her tea; her tongue and lips were painfully dry, yet she felt as if the endeavour to swallow it would ! choke her. '

'' What—what do you want? " she whispered, in a voice that was like the shadow of speech. Mr Garside twisted his moustache! "When I got on your track," he responded, "I only thought about one thing—money. Then Meridale pointed you out to me driving in the park, and I saw—Winnie. By Jove! what a little beauty she has grown! She didn't recognize me just now; when I keep my eyes down, this beard isn't a bad disguise. Of course, you'd recognize me anywhere—you hated me so much. Winnie, the jade, didn't value mc enough to hate me."

He was speaking unconcernedly, despite their proximity to the teatable. Winifred and Edward Agnew had withdrawn a few paces from it, and Constance- Istria was watching them, talking the while abstractedly to her brother; her brows were knitted, her violet orbs gleamed under them like angry stars.

"Well," pursued Mr James Garside, relieving Julia's trembling hand of the unsteady cup and setting -it down, "I want more than money now; I want —what I always had a fancy for —Winnie." Julia Lavenden's pale lips parted. "Never!" she said. Her companion laughed. "Never is a long time," he retorted; "remember, I am either your I friend or your enemy. Lady Lavenden you may be, but not by law Julia Lavenden. You are Julia Garth, my sister-in-law, mine—and the wife of a Dartmoor convict. Shall I give you ,away to some rag of a society journal, my girl? They could jingle the handcuffs and the coronet to a fine tune in print." The listener groaned and her head dropped. Her air of despairing collapse , startled her torturer into prudence. "Come," he continued, "this is no place for a palaver. I'll let you off now. Tell the baroness you have asked me to dinner; I'll turn up——eight o'clock, I suppose. Unless you-are dining out, which would be a pity." She moved her head in a dazed negative, thinking only of terminating an interview she could endure no longer. "That's good," he commented. "You can tell the baroness you were interested in my yarns about Australia. If you were, it wouldn't be the first time that my glib tongue had entertained a fine lady. Ta-ta!" He rose leaving her with a bow, proceeded to make his adieus. Julia sat helpless, paralyzed by a great horror. Her affrighted gaze travelled to the all-unconscious Winnie. Her sister had sunk into a cushioned sofa, over whose back Edward Agnew was leaning. Winnie looked down as he talked to her —once she looked up into Edward Agnew's face. ™ The look was almost too happy, „ too shyly maidenly, for other eyes to note, and Julia glanced away with a shiver of sick anxiety for her darling's future. Her glance rested upon Constance Istria. Apparently occupied with the departing Mr Garside, the baroness' gaze sought ever an anon the youthful figures near her. And there was an expression on her handsome features that struck strangely even upon Julia Lavenden's numbed brain —the expression of a woman who is more than displeased, of a woman who is jealous. The next moment Mr James Garside had passed between the viscountest and her chaperon, to make a little, half-averted bow to Winnie and her cavalier. Then, with a backward glance at Julia, he went out, a flickering, self-satisfied smile upon his bearded lips. Walking reflectively down Park Lane, he turned into Piccadilly and went along that famous thoroughfare for some hundred yards or so. His destination was a palatial club building; he entered the and crossed it to one of those small anterooms where, in many London clubs the telegraphic tickers are installed Scrutinizing the long lines of "tapa" and printed slips already struck off and fastened on the neighbouring baize-covered boards, he

drew out a betting book and began to compare it with an item of telegraphic information headed "Grand National Betting." _ '* As he studied the pages in his book, the "column-printer," on its pedestal close by, began to tick and whirr under its glass case. It ticked and whirred for some time. Before he turned to go, Mr James Garside glanced at it mechanically. His glance grew into a gaze, the gaze into a stare. This was what he read: "DARTMOOR ESCAPE. "Central News says convict still at large. He is reported to a long-sentence offender, named Garse, or Garth." The machine stopped with a click. Mr James Garside contemplated the message, his brow wrinkled, his attitude thoughtful. CHAPTER 11. A CERTIFICATE OF MARRIAGE. "My dear Agnew, lam going to make you very angry with me." Constance Istria fluttered a priceless fan of painted black silk. It hid her expressive scarlet lips, but her great violet eyes observed Edward over its edge. [To be Continued.]