THE DOUBLE SECRET.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 9656, 22 November 1909, Page 2

THE DOUBLE SECRET.

V BY DUNCAN MoQKEGOR, C Author of "Kennedy's Foe," '-Tshiutiol Keforme 5 "A Game of Three," "Edna's Peril." / Etc, otc.

CHAFTER Vlll.—Continued,

Dugakl Frobyn hal intended to re- j ! turn to Florence on the second day j after his departure for the city, but i such a trivial and absurd accident as I a sprained ankle detained him. He ( was walking, the morning after his | arrival, on a part of the wall which i he did not know was ui safe, when it j crumbled under him and disabled him. He sent by Baptistc a letter to J Lord Harcourt, but Madzo, perceiving that it was nut in Arriano's handwriting, and seized with a fancy that it might be a revelation of his own iniquities in terving many hostile interests at once, burned the document. Lord Harourc was therefore in anxiety about both daughter and kinsman. VVhlie Dugald wasdainlily nursed by Li: a at the castle, and Mrs Bemis daily ma-veiled why such a man had not won the heart of the peverse damsel, and while anxiety reigned in Palazzo Kukdfi, and ananarchy i-.nJ revolution muttered inthe streets of Florence, Lady Astraea, by an unusuully speedy and easy journey reached London and was conveyed j modestly in a hackey coach, with Birkin seteci at her aide, to the office of Allan Bird, reaching there only an hour or two af ler Allan made ma appearance, returned from his fruitless Italian expedition. Lady Astraea waa ushereJ into the inner office, sacred to the lawyer alone, and shut out from the outer world by two chambers. The first and largest of Allan Bird's chainbe-s was well piled with desks and with clerks I who joked and wrote, and inspected 'all newcomers with equal diligence. The second room was smaller, fur- ] nished with a round table, a pile j of magazines, a shelf of books, ' popular reading of the day, a lounge, I and some armchairs: in one of these sat Birkin, upright anil alert, im- ' pressed with the importance of bting in the great lawyer's waiting. Meantime Allan Bird was in deep conference with Lady Astraea. Her ladyship had said: "Mr Bird, I have come to lay be fore you a family mutter which is causing me some uneasit.ess. My son, in his youth, like many other young men, which makes it no less inexcus able, was guilty of a great error. As you will perceive, the matter is not one that I could talk over easily with a stranger,, but 1 mutt have advice."

Allan Bird bowe.., with the convential murmurs about "highly hon>oured," "all >th .*t was in the power," "rely upon his interest and tliscre tion," "trusted her ladyship's anxieties would pri!V needless." and so -on, nut with Allan Bird ttiese phrases meant exactly what they said—he had.no mereiorms of speech. "'I shall tell you in the story as briefly as possible," said Lady Astraea. "When my son was about 22 he formed the acquaintance of a .young man of rank, who had, among other bad habits, one of going about under -an assumed name and incognito; to escape, as he said, the burdens of 'his natural position, but rather to obtain more freedom for discreditable conduct. Emulating such an example, my son so far for-; got rbis honor as to go to our Marke .Holme estat.'. where he had not visited tot years, and putting up at the Holme Arms as Mr Morecomb, he ■devoted himself to hunting, fishing and making the acquaintance of the ite. an try on.otner terms than of being -.their, landlord.

"Among t those whom he met was a ,g,ir,l named Apnea Clifford, the daughter of a dissipated army captuin. Thisgirnwas living with her mat-r----mal aunt, and was not only remak,ably handsome, but was an unusually .sweet singer. She waa engaged to Gervaee Lewis, an amiable young musician, the organist of the church on our estate "My son became much fascinated Wiith.this girl, and it gratified the self-conceit of youth .to find thitt she preferred his.attentions to those of her former lover. Agnes Clifford doubtless found my son more congenial to tier tastes than was Gcrvase Lewi , ar.d, white she did not know who he really was, she believed him vto be of higher position and fortune than the otganist. ••'lhe .acquaintance continued for .two years. At first ,my ;Son was so enchanted with the girl ithat he was jieady .to make her his wife, al though he knew my own wish that he should marry the lady who afterward became Lady iHarcourf., and though he had already been very greatly pleased with her, and had shown he.r particular aits rations, Agnes Clifford tor the titoe displaced all other ,lov,e in his heart, and there was an engagement of marriage made between them. "This was at the end of the first year ,of their acquaintance, and still my sojn hesitated to take the irrevocable .step of marriage. During the next six or eight months a passion, wjjich rested . on no solid groundwork of esteem, began to grow cooler my son saw various little gaucheries and follies which would ill become a lady of Harcourt. Agnes Clifford revealed the pride and selfishness and capacity for revenge that made part of her nature, and in proportion as her lover hesitated and

grew less fond of her, the noble charact, r of my dear late daughter in-law grew in nis estee n Pride of race, which had long lai.i dormant, asserted itself above passion. "The between Miss Clifford and the jo cnllej Mr Morecomb was a secret, b;it Gervase Lewis found himself n -fleeted, and became exceedingly unhappy. His love for this git I was as extravagant as it was slighted. My son was at Marke Home, at the Arms, when news ot bis grandfather's death and his own accession to the title reached him. Although he had always ex pected this, yet his actual possession seemed to make a different man cf him; it seemed that with his title he came abo into the overwhelming p'ide of family and rank for which the Harcourts have been' remarkable; it de=cend;.d upon him as a mantle. By this time that he had attended his grandfather's funeral and completed pressing business with lawyers and stewards, he hnd about made up his mind that he could not marry Agnes Clifford. He also had an exaggerated idea of what would be my opposition to this match. He felt that I would never be lecmciled to it. Meanwhile Agnes Clifford, discovering his real name and position, made a desperate effort to retain him. He went to Marke Holme secretly, but the girl ovtrdid her part, and succeeded in irritating him, and telling her that their past was more play, and that they must hereafter be strangers, as a HarI court must marry his peer, he returned to Harcourt Towers.

"Durng his absence I had received a letter from the curate at Marke Holme informing me that Gervase Lewis could not finish some music which he had been writing for me, as he had fallen into a very low state of health. The explanation was that he was betrothed to a girl whom he wildly loved, but that a Etranger named Morecomb had alienated her affections, and she had broken Lewis' heart. I recognised in this culprit my son. At once I confronted him with the story, and he admitted that he had been extravagantly fond of Agne3 Clifford—that he had loved her as never he had loved another, and that he had enteied into an engagement with her. The idea of her inferior po.-ition, he** lack of dowry, and my expected hostility to such a match, had caused him to think it had better be broken off. At this time he was in the revulsion of feeling occasioned by hia parting with Agne3 Clifford, and by .penitence for his felt injustice to her.

tie declared his reason for repudiat-

ing this engagement to bt that lie was s .re of my opposition, and that his pride as a Harcourt demanded a higher alliance. "Words cannot desciibe nay ihoawor and indignation that my son un itvthe lie of an a sumed name, had wantonly trifled with the affections of an innocent girl —had ciist Jibed her relations with a suitibla.lover—had been the cause of deep sorrow Ao ouch a young man as Gervase The cruelty and treachery of the

affair seemed an ineffaceable blot to our whole escutcheon. I tola my son that his birth gave hsna.hocharJtervto trample underfoot acy woman's faith that the highest honor was the honor of the inviolate word. A Harcourt should indeed not marry beneath him, but who is leneath a maD who has stooped to deliberate and continued deception? His name .and line were much,, but his pledged word was more* .and that an acknowledged engagement ought to be kept. "Those were ami days when a railroad would teanj .us in .a few hours to any pant -of Ahe country. I was in Londua. and could only reach Maidstone by coach. In less that two hours, with JMfikin for my attendant, 1 had set off for Marke Holme, to see this Agnes Clifford, and bring her home with me .as ithe betrothed wife of lay son. When I saw her I trembled for my son's future. She was wonderfully beautiful, but pride and passion .were written on every line of her face., and her eyes were stormy and fierce. She looked at me for an instant defiantly and haughtily as a queen might look at a subject, then she v.eiled her eyes, and dropped into a ehair without a word. 1 said: "'My son has told me of his engagement to you. No honourable man should break a marriage engagement except for cause of treachery. 1 have come to take you with me to Harcouyt Towers, .to remain with me until, that engagement is fulfilled. I trust that longer and deeper aquaintance will teach us to regard our relaljoriphip with contentment and pleasure," "She rose, quivering in every nerve with suppressed excitement. I absolutely feared her as she said, in slow, distinct tones: "Madarr, it is too late. Your son repudiated my claim, and three days ago I was married to Gervase Lewis; but I shall jet be even with the Harcourt pride!" "She turned and walked tut of the roum. FlO BE OOIsTINUJCD. J