THE DOUBLE SECRET.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 9615, 8 October 1909, Page 2

THE DOUBLE SECRET.

V BY DUNCAN MoQREGOR J 1 1 0 Author of "Kennedy's Foe," '-Ishinael Eeforme (, V "A Game of Three," "Edna's Peril." D / Etc, eta. /

CHAPTER V.—Continued. "I wish they didn't," said Lady Lina doleiully; then I L mignt have a little quiet. I like myself. I think I'm prettier, and funnier, End more romantic than anyone that I ever saw. Now, my idea is to be able some time to transfer all this admiration to some one else. But I cannot do it to commonplace people. I heard the Venus of the Louvre speaking once — " "I beg your pardon?" said Dugald. "Oh, I mean Miss Pauline Percy. I call her the 'Venus of the Louvre. Strange you never saw the likeness' Lord Thomas did the instant I men. t : oned it. Indeed, he seemed verypleased with me for noticing it."

"He seems to like her very much." said Probyn, speaking his constant thought. "Yes," said Lina carelessly; "and I wish he'd like her enough to take his mind off worrying mc continually. But the Venus of the Louvre was talking one day in the portraitgallery with my father of the return of type in a race—a quantity of wisdom these two had about types of faces and character coming unexpectedly back after long generations. Now, I feel as if must be the return of some character that lived in wild, exciting days -in days of sieges and captures, and escapep, when there was a wider variety in life than this miserable routine of dressing for dinner, and going to a country seat in autumn, and to London for the season. I have it; it makes me fairly sick sometimes to think of spending life in such humdrum fashion. If I could only get captured by wild Indians, or wrecked on a desert island, I should find something entertaining. I always have been a victim to prematurely finding my balls full only of air, and my dolh stuffed with sawdust. Sometimes I think I will enter a nunnery just for the splendid peril of trying to escape, but it would be just my luck ta have the Lady Superior quietly unlock the front door for me, and tell me not to forget my waterproof and rubbers."

"Your case is unfortunate," said Dugald; "we should create adverturea for you until you were satisfied." "But I should hate adventures that coine- c f themselves." "Well, instead of adventures here comes your grandmother." "I'm going," said Lady Lira, starting from her seat under the beech-tree. "In my present frame of mind, I cannot stand anything so ordinary and commonplace as a grandmother " A fiw mornings afcer this a number of the guests at the Towers were gathered in a small but beautiful drawing-room. The Lady Astraea had here a brilliant sea coal fire in the grate, as the day was stormy; yellow brocade curtains guarded the east window, and the window on the west was set with goltlhued glass, which cheated the lowering day, and converted the gray gloom into a semblance of sunlight. Paul ine, seated by her ladyship, was sewing while her old friend was knitting. The two were at work for a child left motherless in the village. Dugald Prohyn, sitting near the window with a newspaper in his hand, happened to glance at the pair, as Pauline turned to ask some advice about her work; the affectionate respectfulness of her look, the feminine employment, the severe simplicity of her mourning-dress, gave him an impression of genuineness.

"Hers is a fine type of beauty," he sad; "she becomes Lady Lina's name for lur. I don't wonder that the long invulnerable Lord Thomas is pleased." They were not alone in the room; Mrs Vilthorpe was there at interminable embroidery; Mr Ponsonby, "the bishop," and vaiious other eussts of ♦he house. They were silent, for Lady Lina had summoned the gardener's boy, he favourite henchman, gone into the organ loft over the main hall of the Tower*, and, unconscious that she had auditors, she was pouring foith magnificent music, for music was her great gift. Selections from Handel, Hayden, and Mozart, were varied, with improvisations of her own. I sigh of satisfaction came from Mr Ponscnby after one of these. Lady Astraea looked up. "My grandchild has a wonderful gift for music," she said, as if answering to some unspoken feeling in the listeners. "I never knew any one who could improvise as she car.' — anv hut one." "And who wao that?" asked Mrs Vilthorpe. "An organist, Gervase Lewis, who had charge of the music in that an cient church which is on our estate at Marke Holme, by Medway. I was so charmed with his compositions that I sent him down a blank musicbook to fill for me by writing out his own pieces, that I might have them played here. I offered him a hand- j some sum, but hj« undertook the task rather from artistic enthusiasm than j money.'"

"Well, where is the music? I never heard it," said Mrs Vilthorpe. "It was never finished for me. Poor fellow, lie had a sore grief that wrecked his life. He lived a few years after, and is buried in the churchyard at Mai-Ke Holme."

Lady Astraea sighed, as-if she had some part in this sorrow, ' The music had ceased, and Lariy Lina made her appearance, a velvet bag in one hand her drawing portfolio in the other. She sat down near the bishop, laid her drawing-material on a little table, and opening the velvet bag, took out of it the muchenduring young rouk, fledged at last. "Lina!" cried her Aunt Vil thorpe. "I'm going to draw Dugald Probyn's portrait,'' said Lina. "Ob, I forgot, you did not know Cousin Dugalil, that 1 had named my rook after you." "I am greatly flattered," said Dugald.

"Yon needn't be; he is oi>e of the ugliest objtcts alive; that is why I shall make his picture." She settled the bird on a small red cushion. "Mr Fonsunhy, would you mind coming here and holding Dugald— Dugald the bird—still, just in this position, while I sketch him?" Thus, seated by one adorer, with a bird named for a second, and held by a third, Lina was in a placid frame of mind, but just as she carefully curved the neck and uprai ed wing of her picture the poodle ran in, gave a loud bark, and the rook, alarmed, fluttered out of Mr Pcnsonby's very gentle grasp. Lina promptly leanod over and gave the offending poodle such a box on the ear as sent him rolling over and over to her Aunt Vilthorps's feet. "Lina!" exclaimed that worthy lady, snatching up the bundle of wool and caressing it; "how can you act so to this darling little love!" ', "1 hate that dog!" cried Lina. I "How can you show such bad temper!" said her offended aunt spitefully. "I wouldn't give a penny for myself if I had not a bad temper," retortud Lina.

"No one else will give a penny for you with it," said her aunt. "I am not for sale," said Lina, ir added anger. "I shall give mysel' away when I find somebody whom ] like. As for that dog, Aunt Vil thorpe, if you don't take him back J shall give him to the next strolling tinker or umbrella mender. I detest a dog. You just gave him to me to make me more like other yr.ung ladies. You said so yourself, and I won't be like fashionable young ladies—chank you, Cousin Dugaldji for catching my bird —if other you r ladies are to heve pet pugs, and U ri/rs, and potdies. so there r.ovv! Ponsunby, do please hold that wickv bird lii'lSS*LJ.-ou are so softly ■ with things! 1 M?ke more vim," murmured Lina, in a tone oi:!y cai:g'hfc by the "bishop," who glow d with joy across the table at his lival Ponsonby. During this passage at arms between Lina and her maternal aunt, no one had interfered. Tnese bat les were of daily occurrence, for all that Lina did was abominable in the eyes of her aunt, and that silly wo nan was the girl's favourite aversion. Silence ft 11 for a few moments, broken only by the click of Lady Astra.'a's needles, through the child's stockings, the whimpering of the poodle in Mrs Vilthorpe's arms, the fluttering of the rook in the reluctant grasp of Mr Por.sonby such a silence as always fails on a promiscuous assembly after a passage at arms. Presently Lina, who was in her worst possible phase of temper, flung down her pencil. I TO PE OONTINtfED. i