A HEART'S TRIUMPH.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9137, 9 July 1908, Page 2

A HEART'S TRIUMPH.

CHAPTER XV.—Continued

Cecil tried to make a step forward to speak, but her strength failed her. She had no desire to be secret, but horror, indignation, and a suffocating pain chained her to the spot. And while she paused, the woman lying on the pillows answered Felix. "To have kept her from me and to have given her to you!" was what she said, but her voice was cutting in its scorn. Then she laughed shortly "Abuse is a poor weapon, and I have faced too many real dangers to fear you, weak and ill as I am. Now I know you to be really what I imagined- a rough bully, a contemptible scoundrel, hidden in a likeness of all that is beautiful; and though 1 may die in doing it, 1 will save that child the endless misery and humiliation that would be the meaning of her life as your wife! Threats will not silence me, Doctor Bingham—nay, nor force," with a glance at his 1 clenched hands. "I shall speak the truth —to Cecil herself." The feeble voice was now only a whisper. "Once leh her know that she has no legitimate right to this money, and I will leave the working out to her. She — she is no coward, young and ignorant i as she is; she " The words ended abruptly, and a cry rang through the room as Felix, with a horrible curse, jumped to his feet and rushed forward with an anger that was unmistakable; but the cry did not come from Helen Brownlow'3 pallid lips, neither did her poor, weak form offer resistance to the fierce fury that struck out blindly at her. She lay unconscious, deathlike, on her pillows, while the cry of a broken heart and a horror that was indescribable rang from poor Cecil's lips, and, falling sharply upon the man's ears, woke him with a sudden fear from his insensate rage to realise her presence and the danger to his future that this signified. :

CHAPTER XVI

ANOTHER PAGE OF THE PAST. ■The return of Mr and Mrs Paul Darnley was duly announced by Dora in the fashionable intelligence of the morning papers, and then followed a time Wat was pleasant enough tj the bride—that of fitting herself into the charming little house which Paul had prepared for her homo. It had been Dora's desire to be settled in the moat desirable part of town, and Paul had, of course, yielded to her wish, thougli his own inclination turned to a less crowded neighbourhood and larger rooms, two things that would have been possible to his means had Dora only preferred a home juat a little way out of Mayfair. However, if his wife was happy with low-roofed, narrow rooms, and a tiny, boxlikc abode, Paul was happy, too; and as Dora had superintended the whole scheme of decoration, and had chosen most of the furniture, it was at least his due that she should be satisfied; and satisfied Dora was, up to a certain degree. It was December when .she found herself installed in a little whitepainted house, in a highly desirable street leading out of Piccadilly, and for quite a week, at least, Dora considered herself very happy. All her gowns were new; her house was the envy of her girl friends. She "had many presents awaiting her, and a great number of people began to call and flutter about her. But at the end of a week Dora began to re • member she had not obtained all she desired to have. She had a mind that hud been trained to look ahead, especially in financial matters, for, unmarried girl as she had been, Dora had not been without her "awkward corners," and, as a matter of fact, she owed already a very large sum of money. Therefore, when she began to cast schemes for the future, Dora saw more an 1 more the advantage of cultivating a very strong friendship with v Cecil Lacklyne. It made her en • vious heart angry when she realised the immense power this as yet unknown girl shcul.l acquire, and with such ease. "And, of course, by the irony of fate, she will be one of those idiots who neither cares for money nor understands its value," Dora said, impatiently, to herself. She was now exceedingly anxious to have Cecil in her house as soon as possible, and she spoke to Paul about it when they had been home a week. "I suppose you found an answer from Miss Lacklyne at the office, Paul? She must have sent a reply to that last letter you wrote *,o her when we were abroad. You gave her a settled address, of course?" Paul looked a little thoughtful. "[ can't exactly remember if I gave an address or not; but Cecil always addressed her letters to me to the city, because I told Lacklyne 'that was the safest place to find me." "And she has not written?" Dora inquired. She was a good deal annoyed What if Ceil, after all. would not respond to her friendship? "It seems odd she should not have answered, an you wrote asking her to come tj us. It is strange, 1 must say." "Oh, there must have been either some good reason for her delay in doing so, or she must have written and the letter has gone astray. If I hear nothing to-morrow, I will telegraph." "Or go down yourself," Dora ouggc.itcd lightly. But Paul only shook hia head at this, with a smile. There was no need to tvorry Dora about his business. But already he had taken a long holiday, and he would not be able t) spare himself another day even for months to come. It behoved hhn to \vi.rk doubly hard now, for

By Effle Adelaide Rowlands, Author of "Hugh Grotton's S-jcrnt," "A Splendid Heart," "I'-ravo li irln va," "Tl.o Temptation of Mary Uavr," '•Selhui's iiovo Story," etc.

even the smallest, household coats something to maintain, and .Paul had a fear that this very little house in Mayfair would eat up a great deal of money in the course of the year —more money by a grsat deal than he had imagined. Consequently he would have to sticlc harder than ever at work; and much as he should have enjoyed seeing Cecil in her own home, he was obliged to deny himself this pleasure. He had been himself vaguely troubled by the girl's silence in regard to the kind letter he had written, and each day since his return he had intended sending a telegram to her to know if she were ill; for this was what he feared might be the case of her silence. Dora ate her dinner in an annoyed fashion this particular evening; she was dismayed to realise what a fabric of hopes and ambitions would fall to the ground if this friendship with Cecil Lacklyne came to naught. She had by no means forgotten her qualms over Felix Bingham's influence with this girl, and she felt, with a savage sensation of fear and anger mingled, that probably Felix had worked his way with pretty certain success while Paul and she had been abroad. She said nothing of this to her husband, however, for she had her own reasons for preferring to keep the name of Felix a stranger to her present homo. Paul, on is side, had well-nigh forgotten the suggestion ' Michael had put into his head about Felix. No; he imagined that Cecil was ill; and his resolve strengthened to send a telegram to the White Abbey the next day. It happened, however, that light was thrown unexpectedly on this matter at this very moment when it was occupying the minds of his wife and himself. The maid, bringing in letters, gave two to her master and one to Mrs Darnley. A glance at the handwriting was enough to make Dora fl'ish hotly, and, with a dexterous move, flick the note into her lap, to be slipped surrepitiously thence to her pocket when Paul's attention was well engaged. Paul, fortunately for the success of these manoeuvres, was busy opening his correspondence. He gave an exclamation as he read the few curt lines of the first letter. "Dora, listen to this!" he exclaimed. "'Dear sir,' he read, 'we shall esteem it a favour if you will appoint a day and hour when you can conveniendy call at this office, as we are most anxious to discuss with you the recent movement in the affairs' of Miss Lacklyne, and to obtain from you all the help you can afford us in the matter. Our knowledge of your sincere friendship for Miss Lacklyne prompts us to approach you confidently. Awaiting your reply, we are, dear sir, your obedient servants.' " And then followed the names of the legal firm who had acted entirely for Charles Lacklyne, ana who, Paul knew, were continuing to act for Cecil, also. He looked across at his wife with a puzzled, troubled air. "The recent movement in the affairs of Miss Lacklyne!" What can they mean, I wonder?" Dora, whose flush had died into a marble pallor, answered him hastily: "You will go, of course, Paul. Perhaps there has been a failure, or something of that sort." (To be Continued).