THE DOUBLE SECRET.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 9630, 23 October 1909, Page 2

THE DOUBLE SECRET.

I | BY DUNCAN KcfiEEGOB $ / 1 I t» Author of "Kennedy's Foe," '-laiimael .Tfeforuie \t | V "A Game of Three,'' "Mra's Peril." 9 | / Etc., etc. / 3 V-.tf"**,"*)'' T.r»i»^C>sr I '''N^OoC*^.S2^>^*^

CHAPTER VIII —Continued. "'Let tliem take care of themselves, so we are happy,'' he cries '"They won't take care of them- | selves, and we wouldn't ha h.ppy.' i '"Why, y»i.i mercenary, hardhearted nig'!,'snys the t. or net, 'will | my going clown on inj knf.es to you brjni; yon to a more romai.tie iraaie of mind?' '"lt's not likely,' I replied, 'but if yon must try it, and go on your knees, pray be careful ai;d keep out of the way of my train and don't I knock over any of Lucy Torby's < fhwer-pota.' | "k'ou should have heard him laugh. ' "'Pray,' anys he, 'what have we Le n flirting for all this while*' "Tartly iW amusement and partly for solid business,' 1 said. The amusement we have had, as we are the best dancers, and the prettiestlooking people to be seen. As to the solid business you want to Ret the banker's daughter, with her ten thou- \ sand a year, into a proper frame of mind, and I want to frighten my father into taking me to Italy. And now in pursuance of ray business, do Cornet Campbell invite me to elope with^you?* "'With all my heart,' says he. 'LadyUna, will you run away with me?' , j "Til answer you in two weeks,' says I. "The very next day we were alone at breakfast, and 1 said to my respected father: '"Lord Thomas, I have been asked to elope, and if you do not take me out of London within a fortnight, I will elope.' "By'out of Lodon' I thought only of Italy. But what did his lordship say but: '"Well, get yourself ready, and I will send you up to Marke Holme Castle to stay with Miss Percy.' "There, you see, I was caught; but I thought it might be jolly up here, and I never knew until yesterday morning that Aunt V. was coming here with me.'" "Why do you wish so much to go to Italy?" asked Pauline. "I've set my heart on it, and a - wilful woman must have htr way. I will go there, and you must help me, Pauline." Disappointed as she was about Italy, Laoy Lina yet found Marke Holme charming; the girl had decided genius for rural or wild Pfe. Early in the morning on the top of the round tower, her face flushed with the sunrise.was Lady Lina fliltting like a lark. The cowherd going over the le», the • fislieruoy in nis boat on the Medway, caught the echoes of her song: "Simmer is y' comin' in, Loud sing cuckoo! Bloweth meed, Springeth weed, And bloometh flower anew, Sing sing cuckoo! Loud sing cuckoo! Or high amid the dark aisles of the fir wood, from lips that had never uttered, a groan, rang silver sweet the ballad of —"Oriana," with all its burden of woe: "Thou liest beneath the greenwoodtree, I dare not die and come to thee, Oriana, I hear the roaring of the sea, Oriana." One while she darted about the drawing room disturbing Pauline's work, she interested herself in the simple loves of Te"d,and Lucy: she prattled to the old rector. "Are there any men aoout here, Miss Percy?" asked Mrs Vilthorpe, surveying with some scorn the plain domestic ways of trie Marke Holme household. "There are Dobbs, and Ted, and Dobbs' new son-in-law,." "Ah! I should have said are there any gentlemen near?" "Except old Rector Rowley, none," replied Pauline, forgetting the curate. "Then I can keep in my room, and devote myself to resting; for the last five years Lina has hardly left me any peace. I really need time to recuperate; I have lost flesh and colour." Comforted by the thought that Lady Lina at Marke Holme was neriy as safe from men as Miranda I on her island, Mrs Vilthorpe kept to J her room, surfeiting her mind with unlimited novels from Mudie's. But while Mrs Vilthorpe thus forgot her duties as duenna, Lady Lina, wandering after violets in. the oak woods, sang high and clear as "the daughter of the warrior Gileadite" in the poet's "Dream of Fair Woman," and these words of her song:" "And 'Avs Mary!' was her moan; 'Madonna, sad is night and morn,' And 'Ah,' she sang, 'to be all alone — To live forgotten and die forlorn!'" fell upon the ear of the unlucky cur- . ate, wandering forth also to muse on the coldness of Pauline, and to gather flowery fancies for his next sermon. The curate thought that he was : love-sick and heart broken, and deemed that this might be a kindred spirit in the wood. He made his way toward the music and there swinging to a loop of a wild vine that grew between two trees, holding on by her hands, her head hung back, her hair falling in a bright

' shower, the resetted toes of her slippers touching the ground at • each awing of the light figure in her dress of pale blue and silver " gray, vva3 this singer who comobuoeri of being forgotten and for- ■ lorn. ' Straightway the curate was off, 1 with the old love and on with the : new, and once more his feet trod the ways that led to the castle. It was Mrs Bemis who first divined the curatc'G infatuation, and cart-fully scrutinised Lady Lina's reception ; thereof. Mrs Bemis had put on once more her dark, plain dress, her caps; she had even put on glasses sometimes, saying that her eyes were weak. She had cultivated the sudden friendship of Lina, and devoted herself to the girl's every whim. It vv:-js Mrs Bemis who searched in i the library for books to suit Lina's j taste, n taste which she intuitively divined. Mrs Bemis knew wild, eerie ballads, such a3 "The Bonny Mill Dams of Binoni," and she sang these to Lina on the tower or whilt walking in the fir wood, she brought to the girl's room baskets of primroses and dishes full of cowslips and violets. Walking with the young beauty along the battlements of the rectangular keep in the spring moonlight she told her tales of old times —legends of tho Medway of Marke Holme, of the Celtic, Saxon, and | Danish days, and masters of Kent, j The daughter of the Harcourts was ' fascinated with her new companion, ' a companion who was somewhat mysterious and rather outside of the ordinary pale of titled ladies' friendship. Pauline was something of the mutual attraction and devotion; she reasoned a lltle as to its source; for Lina she considered its root to lie in newness and singularity, the wayward fancy of an over-indulged girl. As to Mrs Bemis, Pauline said to herself that no one would ignore the charm of the honourable Miss Harcourt's manner and face, and, also, the widow had probably learned.to pay her court to the rich and liberal, Meanwhile, though Mrs ' ; Bemis petted and flattered Lady Lina, she strove for the approbation of Pauline, and in any question between the two, always inclined to Pauline's side. Pauline, finding that Mrs Vilthorpe had \ irt aily resigned her office as guardian, quietly took its duties upon herself, and countless were her suggestions—as, "Dear Lady Lina, the day is chilly, please wear your mantle; the woods are damp; pray take your rubber san- < dais; the dew is falling, let me send Rivet\s for your hat." And Lina, ; fond as if- youth of danger and a\v posed to caution, would protest that - the air was warm, the woods were , dry, the dew was a rnue imagin- j ation, and would wilfully demand: , "Is there any need for my wrapping up so, Mrs Bemis?" And the wicow, with a deprecating oend of the head at being called into the discussion, would be sure to say: "Pardon me; Miss Percy seems to be quite right; Miss Percy is always right." I TO BE CONTZNt/ED.]