Hugh Gretton's Secret.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8485, 12 July 1907, Page 2

Hugh Gretton's Secret.

By EFFIH ADELAIDE ROWLANDS. Author of "Sclinaa Lore Story." *'A Sp! out id Heart," "Brave Barbara." "The Temptation of Mart; Bar"lhe Interloper," etc., rtc.

CHAPTERX V.—Continued. i Now, however, she was confronted j with a new element in her life, anu new thoughts, new sensations, an utterly new aspect of her life, came | with this element. Thoughts of Sir ' John brought a thrill of strange gladness, a compvenensivs union with him, but quickly after this joy came the rang oi remembrance. It was quite extraordinary to her to-reaiii-o how a few short hours had set an absolutely different impression on her life and feelings. Somehow she never for an instant doubted or questioned the meaning of that wonderful look in John Bynge-s eves; the truth of his heart had spoken to hur, and she knew that he loved her. It was not love, or, at least, it was not a conscious girt of love that surged and mingled wildly in her brain and mind as she told this to herself; it was a wonderful joy, a strange delight, a bewildering sense of being a cherished object, of possessing something like unto that which all other women and girls had seemed to possess; but the knowledge of her position, the shadow of shame and mystery that hung over her head, had power to thrust out of her heart those other feelings. It was horrible for her to have to confess to herself that she was, in " worldly parlance, the inferior of this man who held, and would hold, so definite a place in her life now; the inferior of his family and his friends, more particularly of that pretty, delicate girl, his ward, Millicent Gretton. Mrs Hai lowe's half-laughing remark about the future that would almost surely come to Sir John Bynge and . Millicent Gretton haunted Sigrid as an enduring pain. It was jealousy, and yet not the ordinary common jealousy that a human heart can suffer. It was more a craving to stand on the same ground as this other girl, to be able to speak freely, though sorrowfully, of her dead father, her vanished mother—to feel that the man who loved her would have a pride in his love, not a stirg and a wound, because his love was embittered by a mish ke. "If I could Only know the truth! Even if what they have told me is true, better that than this choking feeling of mystery and this dread of worse shame. If I only knew how to probe the matter, whom to ask!" the girl to herself, again, and again, and again. Visions of Doldly confronting Lady Yelvertoun and Hannah Carleton, and insisting on being told the absolute truth of her mother's story and of her birth, had place in her troubled thoughts, but they did not linger. Of what use to approach the two women again! Had she [not pleaded and sought in the past for a thorough understanding of her true position to be given to her, and had not her prayers been met by cold refusal an d a contempt that was worse than an insult. Then the poor child's mind took .another train of thought. "Why did he come into my life? Why was I not left as before? Thi3 is a greater trouble than any other. Why did he look at me and reveal so much? Surely he must know how everything will hurt me now? I wish," Sigrid found herself saying half passionately, "I wish I had never known he existed!" but immediately after this she repented of the thought. Shrinking and thrilling, and covered with blushes, she knew it was a false thought, and one that was born of pride, not of iieart-feeling. The days that followed were all laden with close questioning and selfexamination. She was full of longing, and dread, at one and the same time. She seemed outwardly the same. She sat just as usual with Mrs Harlowe; she wrote letters, arranged flowers, poured out tea, and laughed at Lord -Yelvertoun's joKb; drove out to execute commissions for the sick woman who was so good to her, and made no change in any one single thing; yet all was changed. She was restless to the verge of J illness. She longed to be back in the | convent one moment, the next she seemed to yearn for the travel she had wearied of so sincerely. To remain always with Mrs Harlowe at one time seemed to her the acme of all that life could give her—just to live within touch of that silent pariour where he had stood, was the most precious factor in this mental phase; to be far, far away from this big London house, and the remembrance now associated with it, was the desire that followed next. She was conscious of being wholly unlike herself, and she was eager that no one should notice this but herself. Lord Yelvertoun's constant presence was a relief to her. She had been, in a sense, amused at the contradictory element this young man presented to all that surrounded and signified life to Lady Yelvertoun. In a dim sort of way she was very grateful to Sirs Harlowo's nephew for his determined ignorance of her past humble association with that proud, cold woman at Storr; and she was gladder still that it had so happened she had never met him in the past. She had been introduced to him almost immediately, and she had felt a thrill of nervousness pass over her lest his arrival should be followed by his Aunt Althea. Yet, after all, as she had told herself later, with a faint smile, it was silly of her to be nervous. Lady Yelvertoun had practically turned her out into the world; that circumstances should have brought her to this one house was the fault of ■destiny, not of herself.

She was much haunted by the thought of Lady Yelvertoun during these restless days following on John Bynge's visit; it was a curious thing to know, but the fact came to Sigrid in those days that instead of shunning the suggestion of meeting this .woman, she was almost desirous of meeting her again. "Perhaps if I were to go to her now, and ask her for lierht on the story of my birth, she would not refuse me. Surely she, who is so proud herself, must know what a bitter influence this lasting feeling of mystery and shame is 0:1 my life." Such was the thought that underlay this fe sling. The afternoon she came in, and disturbed the interesting confidence between Mrs. Ilarlowe and Lord Yelvertoun, Sigrid had almost resolved to j'V.t tliis longing into action. As she took off her gloves and hat, and busied herself in arranging the invalid's tea, Lord Yelvertoun noticed she was paler than usual, and seemed oppressed and pre-occupied. 1-Ie himself was in quite an elated condition. He was inclined, as he would say to himself, to "go ahead" pretty quickly, and he felt already convinced, although he had nothing but those few hurried words his aunt had spoken to go upon, that Sigrid's story would speedily be cleared up in the most agreeable and satisfactory fashion. "Hannah Carleton's niece! Niece to grumpy, common, ugly, hard old Hannah! Why, it's just the most absurd thing I ever heard in my life," the young man said to himself, as he bustled about the tea-table, and chatted aloud in his frank, | slangy way. "I suppose they | thought themselves very clever, who- | ever they were, to invent a relationship with Hannah, and get Sigrid away from the convent; but why the dickens they wanted her at all I can't see! It is not like Aunt Althea to be philanthropical, and when she had Hannah and that pocr. overworked French woman, and any amount of maids and people at Sborr, what on earth did she want with Sigrid. By Jove! if Aunt Philippa hadn't begun to work l ie matter out, I'm hanged if I wouldn't have gone straight for Aunt Althea and asked her what she knew about this girl."s He was a little sore and hurt with Mrs Harlowe for so quietly dismissing the question of his admiration for Sigrid. Of course, he did not either expect or want the girl immediately to respond to his attentions. "She isn't that sort!" he said to himself confidently. Young as he was, he had made a certain study of feminine nature, and he had worshipped at sundry feminine shrines, but his sphere of | knowledge had been one usually allied with folly and extravagance. He had, as he ruefully confessed to himself, lost his heart a considerable number of times before the day he met Sigrid; his heart was, in fact, of a restless temperament, and beauty could always chain it for a little while. That he instantly succumbed to the rare -loveliness of the girl he found in his invalid aunt's house was only part of his ordinary creed; what was not part of the ordinary routine was the fact that Sigrid gave no sign of appreciating his admiration. He had almost immediately determined that Sigrid should be his wife, and he had stated this determination to Mrs Harlowe, with the most perfect faith and assurance. He had expected, of course, an objection from her on the score of his social position. He received an objection, and to his amazement it took the form of daring to associate the girl, even in thoughts, with his matrimonial intentions. * He had never been so snubbed in all his life. If it had been any one but Mrs Harlowe he would have been in a "jolly bad temper, and no mistake!" but how could be be angry with poor Aunt Philippa? Moreover, as he sipped his tea and looked across at Sigrid's patrician beauty, ne found himself slowly edging toward his aunt's opinion. Sig~id was so cold —so sweet, yet so cold, and she was as indifferent in her manner to him as if he had been a creature of stone. (To be Continued.)