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

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXIX, Issue 8344, 29 January 1907, Page 2

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

By R. Moraian Silver, thor of <I A Double Mask," "A Daughter of Mystery "Held Apart," "The Golden Dmarf," etc.

CHAPTER XIX. She uttered the hasty sentences "With glib eagerness. Aguew's face grew graver and sterner. "I do not know that your warning is necessary, baroness," he said. "Miss Lavenden has refused me." Constance Istria gasped.

"Refused you?" she repeated, her extravagant joy creeping through her tone of surprise. The young lawyer put up a protesting hand. "I hope yet to induce her to reconsider that decision," he said, "but you drove me to Le frank, and I have spoken." He rose coldly. "I shall find another opportunity of fulfilling my lining mission to Lady Lavenden," he added. "For the present permit Ime, baroness, to wish you good day."

Constance Istria started to her fe6t. Her passion for him was. too deeply rooted for her to allow him to go in such a mood. And the news of Winifred Lavenden's refusal —inexplicable as ifc seemed—had kindled fresh hope in her own heart.

"You are angry with me," she said; "that is not kind, or just. How could I bear to see spoiled that career on which I had set my heart for you? But there, I will say no more, only do not make me miserable by looking so very stiff and scornful at your friend and ally. Good-bye."

'She held out her hand with a cleverly appealing gesture, and Agnew took it cordially mastered by her double appeal to his gratitude and chivalry. After a word or two of less strained farewell, he made his departure, feeling vaguely that her quick wits had this time got the better of his.

As he passed down into the hall, his head bowed, his demeanour abstracted, he heard the rustle of feminine skirts, and looked up with a start, to find himself, face to face with Julia Lavenden.

"Lady Lavenden!" he exclaimed. "I beg your pardon, but I was in a brown study. And, besides, they told me you were out driving."

"So, indeed, I was," Julia answered him, "with Winnie. We have only just returned." Agnew pushed open the door of the library; they were standing by the entrance to it.

"Lady Lavenden," he said,," may I ask you to grant me a few moments' conversation in private? It was reially for that I came here to-day." A look of vague anxiety flitted over Julia Lavenden's features.

"With—with pleasure, Mr Agnew," she replied, and passed into the unlighted apartment. Agnew stepped in after her and placed her a chair. "I have been telling he baroness." he said, "that I wanted to see you rather particularly, to commend to you—though I believe it is not necessary—my friend, Ingram, whose acquaintance I understand you have been making." "Y-yes," murmured Julia, stricken with a sudden faintness.

"That, however," continued Edward Agnew, "was merely a subter~fuge t«* cover my having asked for you on calling. Ingram is a really good fellow—an old college chum of mine—and deserves any help that you can give his numerous and generous enterprises. But my object in desiring to see you alone was a more personal one." He hesitated, and Julia waited, with a sense of reassurance.

"Lady Lavenden," he said, "I love your sister, and she loves me. She has honoured me by admitting as much. Yet she refuses to become my wife. Possibly she has told you so?"

Julia drew a sharp breath. "N-no," she answered. Agnew paused, but she added nothing to the monosyllable. "She gives me to understand," he pursued, "that there is a barrier between us—a barrier which renders our marriage impossible. The lawyer stood before her, with one hand resting on the table, resolute, yet pale. "Whatever may be the cause of that conviction in Winnie's mind, " he said, "I cannot imagine that it is a valid one. And I want you to tell me if, in your opinion, there is a sufficient reason why Winnie should thus break her heart and mine, and uselessly sacrifice the happiness of two lives."

Julia Lavenden's fingers interlaced nervously. "What do you call a sufficient reason, Mr Agnew," she asked. "Nothing," said Agnew, "that did not constitute a legal barrier, nothing that did not make all my view of Winnie—all my knowledge of her—a delusion and a lie."

Julia hid her face suddenly, sobbing.

"Thank you," she said, "oh! thank you for those words. My darling may be happy, after all, aftei^all!" Agnew gazed at her, surprised. His pulses were beating impetuously. Julia looked up; in the dusk he could scarcely see her expression, but her tones, broken and thrilling, had gathered a new strength. "It is upon my life that the shadow lies," she went on—"the shadow.of shame and dishonour. Winnie did not want that shadow to touch you. But since you are so brave —so noble —so "

The voice of Winifred Lavenden interrupted the ardent sentences.

"Julia, dear," she said, "is that you? I have been looking for you everywhere. Why, you are positively in the dark." She came gropingly across the threshold—the twilight was filling the room. Julia went to her and * kissed her. "Winnie, dear," she said, "here is Mr Agnew. He has been speaking to me about you —he will tell you what I have said. I—l am very happy, dear, in spite of all, because

CHAPTER XX

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

—because you can be happy." Julia Lavenden kissed her sister's cold cheek and was gone. And in the dusk Edward Agnew came to Wini- j fred Lavenden's side. "Winnie," he murmured, hoarsely, "forgive me, but I asked your sister if she—if she thought this barrier you say is between us was really impassable. And she has told me that the shadow is on her only—that it is a shadow of disgrace and shame, and that you were too jealous of my honour to let it touch me." He put his arms out to her. "But I will welcome that shadow," he said, "if you come with it. Winnie, how could you deem my love so light a thing? I would have sheltered you from the world even if it had been your own fair fame that had been wounded. And you were goirg to send me away in silence a > c'espair„if—if she had not told me." A stifled cry burst from Winifred Lavenden. He rapturously pressed her to his breast, kissing her on the lips, cheeks, and brow in an abandonment of tenderness. An instant Winnie lay in his arms, her loneliness and heartache so soothed by his passion of tenderness that she could think of nothing, be nothing but his willing captive. Then, with a groan that struck a pang into his lightened heart, she tore herself out of his arms. "No, no!" she cried; "you are wrong. Julia is wrong! I dare not I must not!" His hands fell to his sides, and she staggered as she realised the blow that she had dealt him. "Go, go!" she cried; "for pity's sake, go! Oh! if I were only dead!" She dropped upon her knees and burst into a frenzy of weeping. He stopped over her, but she wrung her hands. "Go," she said, "if you love me, if you pity me, as Heaven knows I love and pity you, you will go away." "I must know more," he sternly answered; "it is my right. I will know more." Winnie rose up slowly, white and rigid. "Do you want to kill me?' she asked; "you, who say you love me." Agnew hesitated; she held out her hands, beseechingly. "Good-bye," she murmured. "Oh, letit.be good-bye!" Edward Agnew bent and. kissed her fingers with burning lips. "Never that," the said, using in his own stern misery an old and sacred phrase; "never-—till death us cio pare. --mKuroaM He kissed her hand again, and silently left the house. And in the agony of bitterness and desolation that descended upon Winifred LavenI den, his words lingered like music, far off, consoling, sweet.

THE TERROR OP THE SHADOW,

"Winnie darling, what is the matter? You frighten me, you do, indeed. And I thought you were going to be so happy!" Julia Lavenden paused irresolutely by her sister's side. Winnie sat in her favourite corner of the gallery overlooking the park. . A window was open, and the night air blew upon her cheek. Against the black of her simple dinner-gown her throat and shoulders but not more whitely than her young face. The mimic sunshine of the electric globe above her could not warm it from its unmoving marble. Her sister sighed. "Won't you sneak to me, dear" pleadingly added she. "You've scarcely said a single word since I left you alone with him, and I thought you would have fainted at dinner—you that never used to'faint! Oh! Winnie, why won't you let him make you happy?"

Julia fell on one knee beside her sistar.

"Dear," she said, "if you think you ought to, you shall tell him about David and Boysie and—and everything. And when he knows, you can be sure he means what he says—that it doesn't matter, that nothing matters, ' except that he loves you. Why should you make me feel that it is I who have ruined your life?" Winnie's lips parted. "Don't, dear," she murmured; "it's no use. You don't understand. I—l can't explain. I —l had to send him away. It nearly killed me, but it was right." She put her head on her sister's shouldei*.

"Don't make me talk about it any more, Julia dear," she faltered; "I —I can't bear it. Let me be quiet, very quiet. Go back to the baroness dear, or she or Mr Merivale will be coming to ask if lam better. I wish I could get where no one could see or take notice of me. 1 feel as if her eyes were boring into my very soul." (To be Continued.)