A SECRET FOE

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10157, 31 December 1910, Page 2

A SECRET FOE

(OUR SERIAL. - '

iy uERTRUDE WARDEN. Author of "Scoundrel or Saint?" "The Secret of a Letter," -A Bold lW.ontion," "The Wooing of a Fairy," 'Tho Crime ol Monte Carlo," etc.

CHAPTER XX r.—Continued. j i But suddenly ho remembered tliat on a previous occasion he had received a telegram which lie had imagined came from her, giving him an appointment in the Flower Walk at Kensington Ganiens, and that Ho had proceeded thither only to learn . that Iris knew nothing of the mater: She had at least said so, hut was it possible that she was deceiving him? Drogo was learning to be suspicious of everyone, even of her, 'the more so as he could not now feel the same respect and worshipful admiration for iris as he had cherished before she entered into what he considered a loveless and mercenary marriage. After all, if she had not sent the telegram, who had? And who was there in the present instance who would go to the trouble of forging her handwriting in order that he and Iris might meet in some quiet spot and discuss Dagmar's private affairs? The name of Dagmar brought the thought of the girl to his mind; but what possible motive could she nave for such a trick. While ho stood thus hesitating and pondering the matter, he heard th;> sound of Iris' voice in the hall outside She was talking to Dagmar. Impulsively Drogo crossed the room ad turned the handle of the door. Then I he paused again. He certainly couM not ask Iris, in the presence of .? thirl person, whether she had indeed sent him this message by her nvn hand. At the same time ho had an impression that Dagmar did not hko him, and it was just possible that the h.ul played him the practical joke of sending him on a wild-goose chase to the Richmond Park by means of a few "' forged lines in what appeared to be Lady Mallyon's handwriting. As soon as this last notion entered his mind it was dispelled, however, by the words ■which reached his ear at that moment in Dagmar's voice. "I quite envy you, dear, seeing Richmond Park for the first time. I'm really sorry I can't go with you, but mine is an engagement made days ago, and though I don't care very much for the girl, she was very good in coming to see me during my illness, and I can't put her off." Drogo softly closed the door again as Iris made some suitable reply. It was evidently no trick. Iris was really go- j ing to Richmond Park, and what she j had to say to him concerning Dagmar I could not well be said either before the I young lady herself or before her uncle. I 1 Already Lady Mallyon and her husband's secretary shared that dangerous tie, a mutual secret, even though the subject was an innocent one enough. All that night Drogo had been dreaming of Iris as she had stood be- • fore him on the preceding day, in her fawn-coloured gown, her picturesque dark velvet hat, and sable furs. How the light had struck through the wide Elizabethan window of stained glass onto her silky hair, her sweet parted lips, and deep-blue eyes! How pure, how fair, she had looked; and in his dream he had felt her little hands on his shoulders, and her soft, fluttering kisses laid lightly upon his mouth. It was wrong, utterly wrong, of course, but a man cannot control his dreams, and at the time it seemed ineffably sweet, so that he had awakened feeling strangely elated. And now she had ordered him to proceed to Richmond Park, and if she had ordered him to proceed to the end of the world for her, he might have found it a delight to obey. Presently, when Lord Mallyon entered his study, he found his secretary putting his papers in order, preparatory to leaving his work. "I have an engagement this morning, Lord Mallyon," Drogo explained, but I hope to be at work again this afternoon." Something, a certain constraint in the tone of his voice, made Lord Mallyon turn and eye the young man closely. "Those notes of mine upon French divorce laws for my article in 'The New York Magazine' are rather urgent. Have you put them together yet? And if not will you do them now? Unless," added Lord Mallyon, with meaning, "your engagement l elsewhere this morning is of a very , pressing nature?" "It is one I must certainly keep, ' sir, but I will do the work you men- ! tion this afternoon." ( Still the same note of embarrass- '. ment in Drogo's voice struck upon the ! .

j sensitive cars of Lord Mallyon. His coupe was waiting for him outside, but he could not leave the house until he had taken some steps to allay the fierce pangs of jealousy which assailed him. After a moment's pause subsequent to his secretary's departure, he rang the bell and told the ser- : vant that he wished to see Wheeler, the groom, who usually accompanied the landau, and sat beside the coachman, and in a few minutes the man in question made his appearance. Wheeler was a slightly built man of medium height, with sandy hair and whiskers, white eyelashes, extremely sharp, light-gray eyes, an inquisitive turncd-up nose, and a wide, humorous mouth. In the servants' hall he was considered a very attractive and even learned person, being given to quotations from Shakespeare and others. A smart-looking, alert, and watchful man, an admirable servant, who was set upon bettering his position. lie had been four years in Lord Mallyon's service, and knew more of that gentleman's affairs than his employer ever dreamed of. • On that eventful night when Lady Cazalet had received such terrible injuries from a cowardly flinging of vitriol in her face, it was Wheeler who had been waiting with the carriage at the gates of Cazalet Lodge, the drive being merely ornamental, and too narrow to allow the entrance of any fair- [ sized vehicle. It was Wheeler who, attracted by the victim's cries, had sprung to the gates just as a thicklyvoiled female in shabby clothes reached it, flying from the direction of the house, and informed him as she hurried out that she was going for the doctor. And Wheeler had formed his own conjectures on the subject, whereof he had confided some hints to a certain detective of his acquaintance, who was quietly following the clue thus given to him. Therefore, when this neatlydressed and civil-spoken young man entered his master's presence on this particular morning, he felt in no way embarrassed, but rather secretly triumphant to think what a lot Lord Mallyon would give to know what he knew, and privately wondering how much would be paid to him at some future date for his information. In his heart Lord Mallyon disliked what he had to do. It was not that j he objected to making use of spies but j he liked to be sure of his material; and Jin this instance lie was compelled, j from lack of due notice, to employ the I first that came to hand. "Your mistress will bo driving this morning in Richmond Park," he began. "Neither I nor Miss Mallyon can go with her, and she will want to get out of the carriage and walk. • Lady Mall von cannot understand an 1 English lady's fear of the English rough, hut I am apprehensive lest some tramp should annoy her. I wish you, therefore, to get down from the carriage and follow her ladyship at a distance, never approaching near enough to trouble her movements, but always keeping her in view. Can I trust you to do this?" "Yes,my lord." "Very well, you may go." "Yes, my lord." -Still the man hesitated. Was the, time ripe for speaking yet, he wondered ? "I beg your pardon, my lord," he said, at la"t, "but may I be so bold as to ask whether anything more has been heard about that woman who threw the vitriol at Lady Cazalet six weeks ago?" "Nothing, so far as I have learned. Lady Cazalet is gradually recovering; but she will be seriously disfigured, and partially blind for life, I fear." "A dreadful thing, my lord. I hope \ they'll find that woman." "I hope so, too. You can go now, Wheeler." (To lie Continued.)