THE CURSE OF HER LIFE OR A DARK SECRET.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 3073, 18 December 1908, Page 2

THE CURSE OF HER LIFE OR A DARK SECRET.

CHAPTER IV.—Continued. "Suppose you take these yourself, and give us your rooms?" he said, with forced lightness to Heathcote. "Impossible," Randal returned. "I have put myself in the worst appartments in. the house to accommodate my guests. The rooms lam in would never answer for a lady. There is a very good suite nearly as good as these, however, on the same hall, exactly opposite mine." "No," interposed Tyrrell sharply, "we won't bother. We'll stay here." Fe marched in, and Edith had no chcice but to yield the point. She dared not tell'her husband why she did not like the Nell Gwynne rooms, and all his snesring and bullying could not wring the secret out of her. Captain Tyrrell and his wife went into this lofty and beautiful, but still gloomy, chamber and shut the door. Captain Tyrrell stopped by the high carved mantel, drumming with his hand and looking about him discontentedly. Suddenly he started violently, and uttered an exclamation, turning very pale at the same time. From the dimmest corner of the room, where a handsome Indian cabinet stood in a sort of recess, a queer, ghostly-looking figure had just emerged—so queer, so ghostlylooking, indeed, that Captain Tyrrell was quite excusable for turning pale at the sight of it. "Edith," he called abruptly. Edith turnad round from the window, startled a little in her turn, and then came swiftly forward. "It's unly Whispering Lois," she said. "I've seen her before at Strettcn. She was always hiding in our rooms like this. Come here, Lois, and let's see you. How are you, my dear?" The strange creature came toward them with a sliding, sidelong movement. She was very tiny, like a child for size. She was dressed in white, and, her hair being white, and her face was quite bloodless, seemingly, she did present an uncanny appearance. Captain Tyrrell shook himself a a little, and drew back, as Lois fixed her wild bright eyes on his face. "She can talk only in a whisper," Edith explained.' "When she waa little she had a sickness that destroyed her voice and dwafted her as you see, and made her the odd little body she is. She is quite harmless, though," she added as her husband shivered again and frowned. "Of course," he returned sharply, "you don't suppose I'm afraid of her, do you? But 1 must confess she gives me the creeps. 1 wish you would send her awt>y, Edith." Edith immediately led to the door poor Lois, who seemed vceak-witted in addition to her other infirmities. "I hope she won't play that trick on us often," Captain Tyrrell said with another shivtr. "Why don't they put her in an asylum." "My Aunt Heathcote is fond of her, and she never does any harm," Edith answered, looking surprised at her husband's evident discomposure. Captain Tyrrell never quite conquered his shrinking from Whispering Lois, thouuh he grew very kindly to her on seeing her more. Loiig afterwards his wif3 recalled this nervousness of his, and wondered if the dread future had not even then touched him with its icy finger.

-Edith Tyrrell tcld her faithful Bar bara, why she did not like the Nell Gv/ynne chambers the first moment they were alone. "My cousin is leagued with Rose to destroy me," she said, "don't you ever leave me alone in these rooms, Barbara, if you love me. There is a secret door somewhere in these walls, concealed so cunningly that none but those who know can find it. A secret passage conducts from this door to quite the opposite side of the house, and communicates, I have no no doubt, with my cousin's own chambers. You can guess why he gave us these rooms!" Barbara looked horror-s'ricken. "You don't think he would dare come creeping in here to see you secretly, mistress?" . "He dare do nothing. How did he serve nm the night "f the storm?" "He sha'n't, then; I'll search till I find where his secret door is, and nail it up." Edith shook her head. "You won't find it. It is too cunningly hid." • "Then I'll never leave you one instant, except when someone else is with you. But perhaps you are too suspicious of him, mistress?" "Perhaps I am. I hope I may be," said Edith wearily. But the very thought made her hurribly nei*vous. Frightful misgivings had assailed her from the moment of this visit to Heathcote House had been decided upon. irier fear of her cousin was fast killing out all the love she had once fancied she felt for him. i'lie first week of the stay of the Tyrrells at Heathcote passed. Barbara Fane nad kept her word to her mistress, and searched long and faithfully for that mysteriously secret dojr. But she had not found it. Neither had Randal Heathcote justified his cousin's strange and terrified conviction that he meant to force himself into her most secret presence by means of that same mysterious entrance. "1 don't believe there is any sec- j ret door," asserted Barbara to her I mistress. J "I begin to hope that, if there is, Randal doesn't know of it himself," Edith answered. There was a large company at Heathcote House, and between them and her husband Edith managed to avoi her cousin pretty thoroughly, e:c t] t in Ihe presence of others. On e he met fer traversing the j lover hall hmr.'edly, just before j

By HELEN CORWIN PIERCE, Author of "At His Own Game," "Carrie Emerson Wilde," "Badly Matched," "The Cheated Bride," Etc.

( dinner. None was near. He stop- | ped and looked at her with his dark 1 smile. "You avoid me," he said, "but I , know you love me and I can wait." j Edith's pale, determined face lighted with disdain, as she swept supremely by him, her lips parted bearly long enough to say ; "I am learning fast to hate you." j Not one imprudence had Edith Tyrrell given her husband's granddaughter to report yet. Not one glance had Fairfax Tyrrell been able to intercept cn which to base a jealous pang. The visit, so far, had , been a great deal pleasanter than either husband or wife had anticipated. Never, in her knowledge of him, Edith seen her husband so animated and cheerful. But then, never had she so faithfully sought his side at every possibly opportunity. Never since their , marriage had she so studied, to please him as at this time. , That he was gratified and fluttered by her devotion to him was provok--1 ingly evident to both Rose Altman and Randal Heathcote. 1 Mrs Tyrrell was a fine musician. She had been singing for the company one evening, when Heathcote sauntered up to the piano at the conclusion of a song, and placed a sheet ' of music open on the instrument before her. ; Edith glanced at it and coloured. It was a song, which had been a favour- : i;e with both of them in former days. Could she trust herself to sing it? ! Heathcote, after putting the music down, and turned away; but while she hesitated, she saw him seat himself in a remote corner of the room, but where he could watch her face a i she sang. : She rose at once from the piano. "I shall have to be excused," she ' said, "I can't sing any more tonight." f She cast a rapid glance over the I room for her husband. He had step--1 ped upon the moonlit terrace outside, and was watching her through . the window. ! "He is a shrewd guesser," thought the young wife. "He suspects there is some significance about that song. He will suspect it still more if I refuse to sing. But he will know it if I do no refuse, for I could never sing that song, through, arid keep a calm face, with Randal Heathcote watching me." i (To be continued).