THE CURSE OF HER LIFE OR A DARK SECRET.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 3069, 14 December 1908, Page 2

THE CURSE OF HER LIFE OR A DARK SECRET.

CHAPTER. I.—Continued

"No. And I had the door locked, ! if he had. I knew he was not expected till the arrival of the mid- | night train; and when twelve o'clock C£ rne, and you were still absent, I j .ijust locked the door, that he might j think you asleep if he did come." i "That was very thoughtful of you, I Barbara," and an expression of vivid 1 relief crossed Edith Tyrrel's beautiful face. "1 shall have to make you a handsome present for that." "I was very anxious about you, mistress. It has been a fearful night." "Yes, a fearful night. Come into the other room, Barbara." The woman followed her into the dre3sing-room, and Mrs Tyrrell flung herself upon a low easy chair, and let her head fall back upon the ; cushions with a weary sigh. | - "Has any one missed me?" she ' asked. # 1 "Miss Rose inquired, just at night, j if you had come in from your walk j yet, and I thought it ft as the lesser j danger of the two," I "Of the two? What do you mean, ! Barbara?" "I saw Mr Randal Heathcote drive the same way you had gone." Mra Tyrrell blushed. "And yoa concluded I had agreed to ride with fcim, and that it would be nuts to Rose to find it out and tell my husband''" "Yes, mistress." Mrs Tyrrell laughed uneasily. "Randal Heathcote is my cousin, Barbara." "Yes." But Barbara stared straight before her with disapproving eyes and grim, compressed lips. "Do you think it is wrong for me to ride with him?" "Don't you, mistress?" "Do you think I would do it if thought it was wrong?" "Your husband does not like it." "He has no right to dislike it." Barbara was silent. j "Do you think be has?" demanded her mistress. "It is not my place to say what I think." "But I give you leave —I insist upon it." "Your husband knows how near youwere once to marrying your cousin. Most husbands would dislike a wife being so much with even a cousin to whom she had once beer« promised in mar iage." "It is not my fault, that I am with him so much. I don't him to come here. I don't know why he comes. But I won't be bullied into treating him rudely by my husband, or gratify Rose by giving him over to her tender mercies. I don't Randal myself, but Rose shall never have him." Barbara ehanged the subject. "Have you just come in, mis- j tress?" "I had not befn here five minutes ■when I waked you. I came in by j that ddor in the wall." ' "I thought you would come that way, if jou came at all to-night " "What would you have told them all if I had not got here by morning?" Edith abruptly asked. Barbara turned pale. "I don't know. The master would hive fit to murder me." Edith laughed shortly. "I believe he would," she said. "But Barbara, I will relieve your mind about me, in one respect; I had not agreed to ride with Heathcote; I went the other way as fast as I could when I saw him coming, and so lost my way iu the woody mountain paths. I don't know but I might have wandered so all night—if I had not met mv cousin again. I refused to ride with him at first, for I knew it would enrage Mr Tyrrell, and that he would listen to no excuses I could make. But 1 was tired out, and I did not know the way myself. and Randal promised to let me out before we came in sight of [the house. So I got in. But, instead of driving toward Blackmere he went in the other direction, without my v knowing it. Then the storm came up, and we lost our way, and wandered about more than half the night. The horses were killed by the lightning. Then we left the carriage and went on foot till we found a bouse, and I made the only man in-, side it saddle a little scrubby pony they had, and bring me home behind him. I promised the man fifty pounds if he he got ine here before daylight. It was not too much—eh, Barbara?" Barbara drew a long breath. "No—under the peculiar circumstances," she said slowly. "I shouldn't have saved myself, though if you had not been the quick-witted Barbara you are, and pretended I was already home." "1 don't like to tell liea, mistress." "Nobody does. But we all have to sometimes." "I don't think it pays, in the long run." "I doubt if it does myself," co » incided Edith gloomily; "and the worst of it is that one lie is so apt to mocher a brood of them. What wiM you do with that stuff, Barbara?" pointing to the water-soaked and muddy heap of clothes on the floor where she had thrown them. "You must put them somewhere that they shall not betray me." "I will, mistress; but you must go to bed, or you will be ill." "!f I become ill, keep Rose away from me," murmured Mrs Tyrrell =lpenlv, as Barbara helped her into her bed.

CHAPTER 11. THE WIFE'S ENEMY. • But Mri Tjr. ell did not suffer, from illn -ss. ihe had magnificent , * altb. It would take something: jsoie than even the hardships of that

"By HELEN CORWIN PIERCE, AwShor of "At ®is Own Game," "Carrie Emerson 'Wilde,"- "Badly Matched," "The Cheated Bride, Etc.

night on the mountain to affect it. She did not leave her room, however, till lunch-time, and Fairfax Tjrrell, her husband, having slept until then himself, had still not missed her. The two met in the dining-room, for the first time since the husband's return from a week's absence. Fairfax Tyrrell was an old man of seventy, at least with white hair and beard, heavy gray eyebrows and deep-set, sharp-glancing eyes. He was tall, thick-set, and stood very erect—a well-preserved man for his years. His wife was only eighteen when she married him. She was poor, he rich. He married her for her wonderful, dazzihgly. beautiful face. She married him fur his immense wealth, his high position, and another reason. She had become engaged to her cousin, Randal Heathcote, a suitable m-.tch in every way. Both were young, handsome, high born. Heathcote wa3 rich. His family were delighted. The young couple were apoarently desperately in love with each other, and, as matters were going, they seemed sure of an earthly paradise together, but suddenly, without the shadow of an excuse, Randal Heathcote scornfully and bitterly refused to marry his cousin. "Edith Knows why," was all he would say, "Edith and I know why, arid that is enough." But Judith did not know why, or said she didn't. She held one hot and stormy interview with her recreant lover. Exactly what passed no one ever knew. But it was easy to guess something of its nature, since both were Heathcotes, and, of the two, Edith possessed the haughtiest soul, the most passionate and uncurbed tamper. That very' day she accepted Captain Fairfax Tyrrell. Captain Tyrrell had been married three times already, and was a man of notoriously bad temper, and of a jealous and tyrannical disposition.

But he was infatuated with the glorious beauty of Edith Heathcote, and, as a last bribe to her to marry him, brought her his will made out in her favtmr, and leaving every penny of his magnificent wealth to her, without reserve or condition.

It was a splendid opportunity to be revenged on her if she wished to be.'

Captain Tyrrell was the magnate of the country, and, old, ill-tempered, and ugly-dispositioned as he was known to be, his wife was sure to bo the envy of all the woman for her fine clothes, her carriages and jewels and the splendour of her position in every way. Whatever reason influenced Edith, she accepted Captain Tyrrell; and as she did so the very day of the rupture with her cousin, people were justi fied in infering that anger at him had something to do with so hasty an arrangement. Randal Heathcote's rage upon learning of the new engagement wes said to be fearful. It was even whispered that he threatened to murder Edith, and tried to kill himself. (To be continued).