A SECRET FOE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10131, 3 December 1910, Page 2

A SECRET FOE.

(OUR SERIAL.)

ry GERTRUDE WARDEN. Author of "Scoundrel or Saint?" "The Secret of a Letter," A Bold Deception," "The Wooing of a Fairy," "The Crime o 1 Monte Carlo," etc.

CHAPTEIt Vlll.—Continued. Baron Mallyon had a low estimate of women. Ho liked their society, but made it a rule never to take their statements seriously, having a rooted conviction that all women were born- liars. Concerning a woman's honour and a woman's good name, he held views "of the world, worldly. 1 " The old untruth that "every woman is at heart a rake" was one of his most cherished tenets; and although he considered that a man should guard with his life, if called upon to do so, the honour of the women of his family, lie was of opinion that the only plan to preserve it was one of constant watching and spying. As to religion, Jasper Mallyon had long since ceased to believe in anything, after some years of dispassionate study to the creeds of divers churches. And yet., with :all his hardness, his cynicism, liis suspicion, there lurked deep within the recesses of his character, as in those of most men of lofty intelligence, a veneration for what is good could, he be convinced of its existence. Although, therefore lie knew qui be well that ( Drogo Gordon neither liked or wholly respected him, he placed a high value upou the young man on account/of His honour and integrity, and preferred his blunt speech and irritable temper to . the flattery and smoothness of a more courtier-like companion. In the carriage, as lie drove from Knightsbridge to Bayswater, Lord Mallyon was complaining openly to his secretary of Dagmar's caprices and extravagance. "As she seems to take violent dislikes to all the "men with any money who want to marry her,", he said, "she can't mean to pay her debts that way. That being the case, what possible idea is in her mind when she deliberately set? to work, on an income of two hundred and fifty pounds a year, to spend more than double that a-mount? Now tell me, Gordon, what have I spent on that girl since she came of age fifteen months ago?" "Nearly six hundred pounds in cash, Lord Mallyon. And in presents of jewellery, etc., about fifty pounds more." "Exactly. What other uncle would do that for a girl who lives in luxury and has five pounds a week in pocket money? How does she expect to go on living at this rate?" "I think " began Drogo, then checked himself and flushed. "You needn't hesitate," said his companion, fixing the keen gaze of his hazel eyes on the„ young man's face; "I know to the full, as well as you do, the report which has got about London, disseminated, as I feel certain, by the Lancashire Place household, that Dagmar is iny heiress. A-more ridiculous canard has never been circulated. Why should I, a man' barely past the prime of life, an .heiress? . You are painfully frank, Drogo. Look at me, now, and tell me truthfully if you see about me any signs of decrepitude." Drogo looked straight into Lord Mallyon's handsome, impassive countenance, which, when lie so willed it, could glow with the enthusiasm of his own eloquent oratory, or soften with grief in recounting woes which he did not feel. The Maligns were a remarkably handsome family, and it was from her father, Lord Mallyon's youngest brother, that Dagmar . had inherited her perfect features. One had to be very close indeed to Lord Mallyon to see the network of fine lines intersecting his fresh-coloured, youthful-looking skin. At close quarters he appeared to be 116 more than fifty, even when, seated thus, the extreme elegance of his tall, spare .figure was lost. His brilliant eyes had 'lost none of their youthful sparkle, and ihis silver-gray hair, in strong contrast "witli his jet black eyebrows, failed to suggest any idea of:age. 1 "You don't look a day srnore than fifty, sir>" said Drogo'honestly, "and seen across a eourt, you look like five and thirty. Then you have a voice that would keep :any man young."' "Golden-voiced," Mallyon replied, smilingly. "The first tima I -ever ihad a compliment from you,, Gordon," lie said, "is memorable. The IVlavrogodatos mostly move in financial circles, but this 'heiress idea is getting general. 'I slia'tl soon have to ! do something to prove to the world that 1 am not an octogenarian.'" 1 The words -seemed tfco set him thinking, and he made 110 other remark before the carriage stopped by the ever the Serpentine, and | Drogo, descending, entered the Hyde Park end of the Flower Walk. He was before Ms time, and so sought a shady seat under a drooping beechtree, for the day was a warm and sunny one for early autumn. Lighting a cigarette he fell forthwith into a reverie. He Was wondering, as, indeed, he constantly wondered, what had become of the girl in whom lie had he-

come so deeply interested 011 board the Atlantis. Ofen and often the scene on the deck of that sinking ship recurred to him—that moment when 110 and Iris stood side by side, with blinding fog aboiit them, and death below, hand clasped in hand, their two souls facing Eternity together. It had seemed to him at those critical 'moments that she could never, should they escape, pass wholly out of his life again. And yet here he was at this instant without the remotest idea of her whereabouts, and far too proud to make inquiries concerning them. He had good reason for believing that Lord Mallyon was aware of Iris' place of residence; for on that last morning, just before the passe of the Kaiser Wilhelm landed, he had asked his employer anxiously concerning the girl wl»o c life he had saved, and had received icr an answyer that he, Lord Mallyon, intended to provide for her, she having confided to him a statement regarding her circumstances. This was the reason for Drogo's coldness, which to Iris had been so inexplicable, just before the ship arrived at its destination. Drogo had his own reasons for considering Lord Mallyon ;; ir.ost undesirable friend for an unprotected girl of 110 social standing in London. But if Iris of her own free will chose him as her confidant, there was nothing more to be said or done.

Unfortunately, jealousy was cue of Drogo's strongest capabilities. Although at one time greatly moved by .Dagmar Mallyon's beauty, he had never yet been so nearly in love as he had been with Iris Travers, and, with love, jealousy sprang at once into birth in his heart. On the ship he had been rather jealous of Fitzalan and desperately jealous of Lord Mallyon; the former feeling speedily passing away, but the latter remaining in full force. He had been hurt, while he lay ill in the Kaiser Wilhelm, at not receiving any message from the girl whose life he had saved, and between whom and himself lie had felt that so strong a sympathy existed. But Lord Mallyon's words had seemed the deathblow to his hopes, and for the time he had only wished to forget Iris altogether. Yet now, under the trees just touched with autumn gold, ho found himself recalling the girl's delicate pale face and luminous eyes. Something in her appearance and manner had appealed to him irresistibly, recalling to his mind fairy-stories of Undines with una wakened souls, so pure, so passionless, she. looked, and so far removed from the sordid details of every-day existence. Closing his eyes he fancied he could see her still, in her plain black gown, pilot-jacket, and yatphingcap, drawn low on her forehead, the severe masculinity of lier attire serving to.heighten her delicate feminine grace. Then suddenly opening his eyes, it seemed as though his daydreams were before him in another garb, for this charminglydressed, slender girl, in soft silvergray attire, who was advancing close to where he sat, holding a grey pinklined sunshade over her pretty face under her shady hat, was strangely like the Iris Travers whom he had snatched from death not many days before. Nay, more—it was, indeed, she, and no dream, for the lady in gray had stopped, and, holding out a very slender hand in gray suede covering, she had blushed and asked him if he had quite forgotten her. "Indeed, I have not,' Drogo stammered as lie rose from his seat. "I was thinking of you at that moment." As he spoke he remembered the telegram, and an. unreasoning delight swept over his heart at the thought that Iris had sent it, and that she wanted to see him.

CHAPTER IS. DAGMAR LOSES HER TEMPER. Thus far Dagmar's attempt to "play Providence" had turned out very successfully. The children being away for the day with their mother, grandmother and nurse, Miss Mallyon had easily ! prevailed upon Iris to take a walk by herself in Kensington Gardens in their absence. "You will find such a relief not to have those dreadful youngsters to look after," she had observed sympathetically. "I have some rather important letters to write. But if you go to the Flower Walk _in Kensington Gardens, and wait 'for me there, I will try and join you.. If I don't come,before four, you may know I am detained, and shan't be able to come." (To be Continued.)