A SECRET FOE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10155, 29 December 1910, Page 2

A SECRET FOE.

(OUR SERIALS

iy uERTRUDE WARDEN. Author of "Scoundrel or Saint?" "The Secret of a Letter," A Bold tt«noiition," "The Wooing of a Fairy," "The Crime ol Monte Carlo," etc.

CHAPTER XTX.—Continued

Ho might have been touched by the real anxiety of her tones, but that Dagmar's speech, quickly following upon that of his wife jarred upon him. "Dear Undo Jasper." she cooed' slipping her nnv. through his, "you always' will throw yourself into everything as though you were still eighteen! You know Doctor Mortimer always says you should lie down and'rest in the afternoons. And your tonic? Are you taking that still. You have no idea, Iris, what a had patient Uncle Jasper is! You will have to he very firm with him. 1 assure you!" The suggestion of invalidism and senility conveyed in Dagmar's speech was intolerable to Lord Mallyon's then state of mind, as she had meant it to he.; and in spite of his facial control a-shade of vexation passed over his countenance. Iris saw it, and quickly changing the subject by declaring that she must take off her walking things, she drew Dagmar from the room.

As soon as the two ladies got outside the library door. Iris laid her hand upon Dagmar's shoulder. "Como to my room with me, dear," she said. "There is something I must say to you at once."

The solemnity of her tones alarmed Dagmar. Was it possible, she asked herself, that Iris had by some means guessed the authorship of the anonymous letters? The next moment she rejected the idea as impossible, but it was with the forebodings of a guilty conscience that she followed Iris into the latter's apartment, and waited for her to open the subiect.

would not have been such a mad marriage, after sll." "And you really love him?" The- wonderment expressed in Iris' t.viies annoyed Dagmar. "Love him! Of course I do! Ah! that means nothing to you. You, with your pale gold hair, and your pale fair skin, and your pale pink lips—how can you understand how a woman of my temperament can love? You may tell me Ted is a flirt, that he is shallow, fickle, extravagant, even heartless. Well, I may agree with you in some of those accusations, but- 1 can only tell you in return that I love him, and that he loves me. Oh! not as you would understand love— something calm, and respectful, and dignified, mixed up of gratitude and esteem, and other tepid qualities; but a love that is living fire, a love that is partly hate, should it be found in the arms of another!" Her great eyes blazed in menace, and'her flushed cheeks seemed to give back her lost loveliness. "I can understand that you could love like that," said Iris softly, "'but not Mr Fitzalan." "That comes of your ignorance of emotion. Had you been capable ol love as I know it, could you have married Uncle Victor? Ah, don't start away! You wonder at my choice; well, I wonder at yours. I threw my heart and life away for passionate love of a young man; you carefully invested your future in the wealth and position of an old

"I hardly know how to begin," said Lady Mallyon, standing before the dressing-table, while she slowly drew off her hat and gloves. "Dagmar, dear, do you think it kind to havo deceived me and Lord Mallyon, and your mother and every one for so long?"

Dagmar was white to the lips as she roso from her chair, and her limbs trembled with apprehension. "Deceived you. On what subject?" she faltered.

"On the subject of Mr Fitzalan." With a suppressed sigh of relief Miss Mallyon sank back in her chair. "I don't understand you." she said cautiously.

one." The true bitterness which was in her rang out now in the hysterical fierceness of her tones! Iris shrank away from her, pale and troubled. Dagniar was equally wrong' in 'supposing her mercenary as in supposing her destitute of emotion. In Iris' nature love was only sleeping,-await-ing the voice and touch of him who was destined to awaken it, and for money and position she cared far less than did the girl, before her. Dagmar simply did not understand her. Iris knew it, and was silent. "I am sorry if I have pained you," said Dagmar, after a short pause, conscious that she had gone too far. "i am over-excited, and weak, and hysterical. I have not recovered from that wretched illness yet. You can't understand what it is to love a man who loves you for your beauty, and who gets cold as soon as he sees a wane."

"You love him, do you not?" "Why do you ask me? I have often told you my opinion of him." "Forgive me, but I cannot think you arc speaking the truth. A girl would hardly compromise herself with a man she did not love."

"Compromise herself! How dare you say such things to me?" "How can I speak otherwise? Two nights ago you were seen to leave his rooms at midnight."

A long pause ensued; then this strange creature, in a. hurst of genuine feeling, buried her face in her hands, and wept like a heart-broken child.

"Iris." she murmured, between her sobs, "I am Edward Fitzalan's wife."

CHAPTER XX,

She pressed lier handkerchief fiercely against her eyes as she spoko, to suppress the tears. The subject was a very bitter one to her, but all the while she was conscious of an intense relief in being at length able to confide what was in her mind even to a woman whom she chose to consider her worst enemy. .Not only since, that chilly winter morning, when she had stolen out in the fog and slush to meet Edward Fitzalan, in the little West End chapel near his sister's house, and had there pledged her faith to him before the altar, had she allowed any hint of her secret marriage to pass her lips. And now, when illness had marred her beauty, and when Lord Mally. on's marriage had destroyed her chances of succeeding to his wealth, Fitzalan, was already half reproaching her for yielding to his proposals that they should' become man and wife.

A FORGERY

"Nearly a year ago I married Mr Fitzalan," Dagmar proceeded. "I knew that Uncle Jaspar did not like him, and, as Ted is a lawyer, Uncle Jasper might do him a great deal of harm in his profession. And then, you know, every penny I have passes through uncle's hands, and I've been at my wit's end again and again to try and pay Ted's gambling debts. I couldn't get along at all but for theextra pocket-money which Uncle Jasper gives me; and, -u he knew that I had married Ted, he would never, I believe, give me a shilling again. "Oh," don't stare at me like that! You are wondering, of course, what induced me to throw myself away—that is what you would say, is -it not?— on Sir William Fitzalan, I who can never make my miserable allowance meet my dress expenses, and he, who is forever dunned for gambling debts. But you must remember —and here, dear Iris, don't think I am unkind, for I am only speaking the simple truth—you must remember that, until Uncle Jasper met and very naturally fell in love with you, everybody in London took it for granted that I should be the heiress, and I was brought up in extravagant ways in that belief. "In time I thought I could coax him into forgiving me and doing something for Ted, in which case it

"I am in your power ;:o\v, Iris," she said, turning suddenly upon Lady Maliyon. "'j:)U caught me when you were in our house, stealing off to see Tod, a::d I put you off with an invented story. And thosw hateful children are always spying on me! Was it through them that you found out where I went?" "Partly. But what does it matter now. Dagmar, dear, I am so glad you have told me, and I am so sorry that you did not tell me before." "And you will say nothing to Lord Maliyon?" "I give you my word, that I will say nothing to Lord Maliyon unless you authorise me to do so. But, my dear Dagmar, wouldn't it he better, much better, if he and everybody knew the truth? Think how wrong, how strange your position is at present—a wife in reality;* and not in name! Loving Mr Fitzalan as you do, how much happier you would bo if v you were living openly with him in some little house or pretty Hat, which with your taste you might make charming " (To be Continued.)