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

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXIX, Issue 8345, 30 January 1907, Page 2

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

By R. Norman Silver, thor of "A Double MasJc," "A Daughter of Mystery "Held Apart," "The Golden DiuartV etc.

CHAPTER XX.—Continued. Julia kissed her and rose. . "If you insist on breaking your heart like this, Winnie," she said slowly, "remember, I shall hate myself all my life, worse than I have ever done, worse than I ever dreamed of having to do."

Winnie's head drooped on her bosom, but she answered nothing, and Julia left her distressfully. Winifred Lavenden leaned on the sill of the open window, and inhaled the cool night air that blew from the park. She had told her sister the truth. She could, indeed, bear no more. With a courage that procU med her a true daughter of a lion- ' hearted race she had . come through one fierce trial after another since tha.t fatal night at Graramont Mansion when she had awakened from swoon to find that a bullet from the revolver she had taken with her had stretched her and her sister's blackmaler dead at her feet. - And now she had reached the-,limit of her endurance. Edward Agnew's kisses were still warm upon her lips . and hands, she still thrilled from his embrace. In that one moment of passionate weakness she had felt how sweet had been the darling future of which fate had deprived her. And now she had sent him away, she had banr ished the tenderest, bravest, most chivalrous lover that ever deserved to prosper in his wooing. She was alone—alone with a ghastly shadow upon her —the shadow of , the law's horrid vengeance for a life violently "Hello, Winnie!" exclaimed a ! voice, harsh and deliberate, the unmistakable accents of George Merivale; "in the dumps again, your ' sister says. I thought so over dinner. We'll have another spin in the automobile to-morrow. / That's my prescription, and a very g«od one, too." He sat down loungingly beside her, rather square and clumsy in his dress ' lochets, and flushed with an afterdinner cheerfulness. His hand fell upon ihers and clasped it, to give it a - curious pressure—penetrating, lingering. It was the hand that Edward Agnew had kissed in his burning farewell. Winnie snatched it away hastily. - George Merivale's eyes gleamed. He had been drinking freely at dinner, and, though he was accustomed to much larger potations, he had a vein of irritability in him that > alcohol inflamed. ' "Oh!" he exclaimed, "on your high horse! That won't do with me. I know too mtich, remember. "If;J choose to squeeze a little hand that little hand must be squeezed." He recaptured her fingers and held them in his own powerful, well-kept hand, smiling at her with the gleam Ki of wine-kindled obstinacy in his ' "' small, sensuous eyes. Then lie stooped and brushed her hand with ; his moustached 'lips—the hand that Edward Agnew's lips had touched. A light seemed to flash across Winifred Lavenden's vision, and she struck him in the face. He started up, grinding his teeth. "You vixen!" he snarled,, "you shall pay for that —and pay in good coin, too. Why, I have only to '* The sentence terminated abruptly. His own man servant had appeared at the entrance to the gallery. "Beg pardon, sir," Merivale was told, "but can you see-those men who - . ' called , the other day from Scotland Yard—they are in plain clothes, sir, • and insist upon seeing you, if possible, for a minute." "Oh! nonsensp," began Merivale, "this is no time ——" He stopped and glanced at Winnie. The white mark left by her fingers was reddening vividly] EJe seemed to be considering something. Winifred 1 Lavenden's heart seemed to fail her as she looked at Merivale's set, thoughtful featurs and x at ■ the burning traces of her blow; they i stood out like a brand upon his florid skin. The hand that > had dealt the stroke hung motionless; where his lips had touched it it felt cold. She had struck him in the face—him, the man who, it was all toe plain, had fathomed more or less of her dreadful secret. And in thai very moment he was —he must be tempted to betray her. The footman was waiting at the door of the glass-covered balcony, £ tall figure with the blank, impassive visage of his class. Merivale turnec to him sharply. "Let the men come up," he said, "I will see them for a moment." The servant bowed and withdrew. A single step brought George Merivale to Winifred Lavenden's / side, He caught her by the wrists, his powerful grasp bruising the sofl flesh. ''Do you know what I could do fox you?" he asked her, in a low, fierce whisper. "I could send you to rot in a convict prison l ,you little fool! Whoever fired the shot that killed Garside you were in it, and that's no laughing matter. I can tell you, even <ii you were only an accessory after the fact. Lady or kitchen-maid, , you •could be made to suffer for it." White and trembling, she sought to tear herself free, but he held her as in a vice. Her gray eyes had a hunr ted look in them; her dark tresses, loosened by her efforts to free herself, ' fell girlishly over her ears and temples ; and her bosom throbbed like the breast of a captive bird. In her disorder and distress she was very beautiful.- Merivale's expression changed and his grasp relaxed; Winnie sank back in her seat, half-fainting. ; "You can't play with me, you see," he told her, "and if you don't believe me yet,, just sit where you are and listen while I talk to these men from Scotland Yard. Heavens

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

kinows what they want to ask me at this unseasonable hour, but their visit serves to . prove to you that, though the officers don't suspect it, they are dangerously near the right trail. All the more reason why you should have me for a friend—say, even a husband —rather than for an enemy." With which declaration he stepped out of the balcony into the lighted, but untenanted, drawing-room beyond. Mr Quail and Inspector Quilliam, piloted by the liveried footman, were crossing it —he was just in time to prevent them passing into the gallery. "Good evening, sir," said the elder of the detectives, while his subordinate saluted silently. Merivale nodded and paused near the centre of the gallery, so that his voice .nu the voices of the detectives might reach its occupant. , "Good evening," answered Merivale curtly. The inspector turned, his hat in his hands. "I'm afraid it's rather a late hour ,to troubl? you, sir," he rejoined, "but my colleague here is leaving town early to-morrow morning upon certain investigations into ' the Garside murder case, sir, and we were anxious to be sure that we had correctly understood the events of a particular day, sir, so far as they affected Mr Garside's visits here." Merivale was glancing covertly into the balcony. From the angle at which he stood he could perceive the bowed head of Winifred Lavenden. Her face was hidden —she had buried it in her hands. "I am quite at your service," he declared. " What is it that you wish to know?" The inspector looked at his subordinate. Mr Quail moved an inch or two forward. "Mr Garside was here in the afternoon, sir," he "May I ask at what time he left?" Merivale considered the point. "About half-past four or five," he replied; -"we walked here from the Imperial Club about four. We got here just before the servants brought in tea —my sister's tea hour is earlier than the traditional five o'clock " "Then the same evening," pursued Mr Quail, "he dined here?" "He did," said Merivale indifferently. "We dine at eight; he left about eleven." 1 Mr Quail nodded. "I presume that he did not know before tea-time that day," continued the younger detective, "that he was to dine here. In your letter, sir, you suggest his calling with you about tea-time to make Lady Lavenden's acquaintance. No doubt this was the call in question." "It was," said Merivale; "Lady Lavenden invited him to return and dine with us." The speaker's gaze had travelled suddenly from the interior of the gallery to scan Mr Quail's pink, bland countenance. The inspector noticed it, and put in quickly: "Which makes it quite possible, sir," he observed, "that{Mr.Garside, in order to dine here, may have broken some previous appointmentsay, with the. mysterious nurse who was seen waiting outside the door of his rooms." "Being anxious to. make Lady Lavenden's acquaintance as you told us, sir, he would naturally be reluctant to decline her ladyship's invitation, and might count upon getting away from here in time to keep his otfier appointment." ! Merivale was not paying very close attention to the detective's words. At the mention of the nurse there had come into his eyeg the look of \ veiled thought which often accompanies an effort to reflect deeply and rapidly without betraying the fact. A significant glance passed between the detectives; they had. marked his ill-concealed abstraction. "Quite so," said Merivale slowly, raising his voice a little, "and-this—-this nurse, I suppose you really attach great importance to—to her presence there?" It was Mr Quail who answered; the inspector had hesitated. "The very,greatest, sir" he responded; "we have reason for believing that Garside tried to blackmail her, or some one connected with her. and that she—she killed him during an interview, which had been arranged so that she might pay him money. The man, as the devices found in his room showed, was a cardsharper; he was also a professional blackmailer." Again Merivale looked swiftly at the face of the detective. "Your deductions are certainly wonderfully shrewd," he said, "but the missing link in your proofs is the nurse herself, or, at least, sufficient knowledge of her identity and circumstances to suggest a reason for her being the prey of the blackmailer." "Very true," rejoined the other gravely; that is just what we do lack, but we hope to get on the track of it ultimately. We are much obliged to you, sir, for seeing us at this late hour." (To be Continued).