A SECRET FOE

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10131, 7 January 1911, Page 2

A SECRET FOE

(OUR SERML.v

ly .uERTRUDE WARDEN. , Author of "Scoundrel or Saint?" "The Secret of a Letter," -A Bold IW-ontion," "The Wooing of a Fairy," "The Crime o£ iVtonte Carlo," etc.

CHAPTER XXlV—Continued. Unskilled in dissimulation, her manner toward Drogo, whom she had hardly ever before met in her husband's presence, since her marriage, was so markedly constrained that Lord Mallyon could not fail to note it even ' if Dagmar had not been there to emphasize by/little anxious glances in the direction of Iris, any alteration in the latter's manner. The mental atmosphere being thus charged with electricity, it was not surprising that "hot' one'of these four persons paid much attention to the. fare set before them. Bach one was longing for the meal to end. Drogo and Iris scarcely spoke; Dagmar chattered with' a restless, intermittent vivacity, and Lord Mallyon affected to listen while alternatively watching his wife aiid Drogo. Once, when Iris looked up suddenly, she caught the eyes of Drogo fixed on her, and a deep blush spread over her face, a blush to be recorded against her in the indictment her husband:was preparing. Vei-y shortly after dinner was over, Lord Mallyon droye away, after exchanging a meaning glance Avith his niece, who, being left alone in the drawing-room with Iris, Drogo having excused himself on a plea of work, promptly declared herself to be "fit for nothing but bed, 1 ' and declined Iris' offers of nursing and companionship. "The fact is, dear, I have been overdoing it," she* explained. ' I keep on forgetting how weak T am still after my illness. That;' shopping expedition tired me,terribly, and then that aw'r fully exciting interview with you in jSviiich I confided to you the Secret of 'my. upset: my!" nerves ••' so much that I can't get over it. All today my head has been racking, but I wouldn't bother you about it before. No, don't comeupstairs with me, my dear, and don't think me unkind for . saying that for? an hour or two I would prefer to be alone.; I shall just get on a loosed dressing-gown and lie on the'sofa before the fireSfor a little while. Come in and see medjefore yougo to bed; but until then I don't think I had better speak at all." \ Left alone with her in the great drawing-room, an intense, lone- j .liness fell upon Iris, arid a restlessness j quite foreign to her nature impelled her to wander Up and down the length of the silent, spacious room, ''while her reflection, like some slim, white,' silent ghost, was repeated hr,the long mirrors ranged at intervals along its walls. .Would life always beJike this, she wondered,.and she be compelled to always play the' part of a, cold,; calm,' passionless, great Vliidy;-interested in her husband's career and deeply mindful of his dignity and her own? Only quite recently had she found that such an existence was impossible to her, 'and she dared not ask herself at what moment such a view of the case had presented itself to her. At last, unable to bear her own thoughts, she repaired to the cozy little sitting-room, given up specially to her use. There, at least, were books to read, letters to write, and needlework to finish, things far, mora profitable than her musings to occupy her hiind.' *> But, as she.left the drawing-room, and made her way to the foot of the broad, oak staircase,; she came face to face with the one person of . all others Avh'om she wished to banish from her mind. Iris would have passed him with the slightest of bows, but '.Drogo stopped her. V "Is Miss Mallyon in the drawingroom?" he inquired ,in low, eager tones. "She has gone to her room with a headache. Good-night, Mr Gordon!" "Stay a moment, Lady Mallyon! May I beg you to-come into the library for a few minutes ?' I would not j trouble you, but that I have some- ' thing of the utmost importance to ■communicate, to you." ; : ■. " ( ; : ■';'••■ -.•";'• ; ; Iris hesitated., ■ - ; '■"■ :..'"-.:• ''''.'':' ,'"Can you-/not tellme what it is. I 'now?" she asked coldly. t ■.■" That is wholly impossible. Believe me, I will not detain you one moment longer than is necessary." With a stately bend of the head she passed into the library, whither Drogo followed her, carefully closing the door. "You are sure that Miss Mallyon is in her room," he asked, almost > in X& whisper. I

"I believe so. Why?" "Because it is of the utmost importance that she should not overhear what 1 am about to tell you." Begging her to be seated, Di*ogo went swiftly to the curtains of velvet which separated the study from the smoking-room, and drawing them back, peered into the room beyond. as he did so, Iris remembered viv- ' idly the moment when she had been placed there by Lord Mallyon, an unwilling eavesdropper at the iiiterview between himself and his 1 sister-in-law. The; remembrance hurt her, although she little sus-pected-that" it was by means of'thai* , very ' smoking-room and the blocked door leading from it to a smaller-hall of which Lord mallyon possessed the . key, that her husband intended later', on in this same evenin'g to surprise her and Drogo together. "I think we are safe from interruption," Drogo said, after he had" passed in and out of his own adjacent smaller study. "Lady Mallydiv what I «m going _to tell you will jiid doubt shock and surprise you great-r ly. lam going to reveal to you the j existence of a secret foe, who hatefc I you beyond the power of words to express, and who has tried, and is tryiny by every possible means ,to accomplish your ruin." "What can you'possibly mean?';' exclaimed Iris rising from her seat in surprise. "Why should anyone hate me in the way ydu describe?" "Motives for hate are often ' as difficult* to find as motives for love. You have come between this person and a large fortune——" "Stay!" she cried. "If you. have, any accusation to brifig against a' ■ woman; whom I'xlearly love, I will not listen." ,'V. .~ ■' ' • Her instinct had, told her that Drogo meant Dagmar. She was i ready on the- 5 defensive for her friend and:trembiing^with excitement.. ~;/': '.V ''Lady Mallyon, you must listen! Be seated, please., I am going nbt only to accuse Miss Mallyon of hating you, but I am going to prove to': you that she has hated you, and . striven to injure you and w;rongyou, almost from the first moment of your,; , meeting-with-her. And lam goingto prove to you that your supposed friend even went the Jength of trying to murder you to prevent the,; marriage with' her uncle." "Do you know what you are .saying?" faltered Iris, witli white lips; "You must be mad. * ,- , "It is not I, but she who is mad j —mad in her.envy of your position I' just as she was with jealousy whem she discovered Edward' admiration for you. You have 't<s I deal with a dangerous madwoman,:? I capable of lying, of .forging, even of vitriol-throwing in her: hoi'- 1 ; rible desire for vengeance." • '.-;: '■ "Yitriol-throwihg! .Good Heavens! It is hot true—it is.not possible." ;j ''lt is'both true'-and possible,'."anci;| j I,have proofs of every assertion* yon, who, finding that her. uncle-ad-[ ? mired you, sent you to the Flowers Walk in Kensington Gardens, andj sent me there to meet you- hy means-' of a telegram which I wrongly at-, tributed to you." "But why should she do this?" "Because she knew I loved you, and that, had you loved me in re- , turn, your marriage with her uncle, would nevfer have taken place." , xigain in Ins excitement the wordsescaped him almost before ihe realized their full import, until Iris . yspoki* in cold accents of displeasure.:,. "Of what else have you. to accuse my friend, Mr Gordon ?" . He laid- some sheets of imper be-' fore the table near which she ' was sitting- ~; ■.■ v ,-.. ■..." '.'• .... ' "Here," he said, "you can see for yourself the forged note which I believed from you, summoning me to meet you at Richmond Park, the paper on which she practised imitations of your handwriting, and the, very blotting-paper on which she dried the message which, slipped under the inkstand of my desk, took' me yesterday to Richmond Paik." ■). Iris bent over, the pap v 3 studying them carefully. • Then she raised a white, scared face to his "Dagmar must be mad'" she murmured. "What could she possibly, •hope to gain by,this?" ' , ' '" : ..- '■:'.• ' ' V:' .' ■ ' ■•■.•'.' '' •■'...■'."' (To be.Continued.)