AFTER RELEASE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10627, 4 May 1912, Page 2

AFTER RELEASE.

OUR SERIAL™

By VIOLET M. FLiNN, Author of "Tlie Ma&ter Passion. "What Shall It Profit?" "Veren-." "By Devious Paths," Etc.

Cl] APTKR XXVlTl—Continued.

I ".It is the truth. Charles sent his j nil'o to my care. T was in hiding at j tiia time of the Ijfrth, hut I had ray plana ready, and niy tools, too! Poor old Mora, she was always n willing fool—she would have done anything for mo, and—to spite you. She came and told mo that my wife had a son, , and that Charles' wife had a son two \ days later. My child died, and Nettie ; was very ill. The children were then ' changed. Jt was an easy thing to do. They were in tho same house, in adjoining rooms. Mora would always do as'she was told." His voice grew stronger. He tried to raise himself. "Basil Jlawarde, as he calls himself, is the, rightful Duke of Ludworth!" "No!" said a quiet voice. Thero was a, lit'.e stir. Tho door had opened quietly, and Bawarde had entered. But it was not at his mother that Ludworth looked, but at a littl, dishevelled, tear • stained, and altogether broken figure that accompanied them. "Fluff!' he exclaimed incredulously,' and Lady Flora broke into weak tears compounded of fear and relief. "I couldn't hear it any longer," she said, 'and when. Tom showed me the letter I just went to her." She pressed closer to Mrs Bawarde, looking anywhere rather than at the bed. Ludworth's bewildered, baffled gaze went from one to tho other. The duchess had given a little gasp when she had seen the new group, but she did not speak or move as Mrs Rawarde drew back the veil and turned to Ludworth. . "My dear," she said, m her pretty voice.' "I am your aunt Alicia." "Alicia!" The exclamation, came, from Tresidder, but no one heeded him —a deep flush had covered Ludworth's "Aunt Alicial'Mio gasped. "But I have always understood that—thatr—' "That I had disgraced the family honour and joined a lover?" she asked, and a' little ■■'■ smile, flickered; through the tears that had "suddenly brimmed up For the first time she looked ,it her mother. "I left home in disgrace; no opportunity, was given me for explanation,' she said steadily and disI tinctly. "No one would ever listen to my excuse if I had one, but I had none. I was an honest woman; I was a wife. My fault was that I had consented to a secret marriage, that I was Stanton Neal's' wife when people thought Ins aims wero in another direction." "It is true," Neal groaned, but once a«r a in the gleam came into his eyes as he looked at the duchess. "We had been married over six months when your suspicions were aroused, and you turned your daughter out without even troubling to question or counsel her. You had a rough time of it, altogether, Alicia; and—and you nearly spoiled my game, though not quite. Come, Flora!"—his voice rose with j fictitious strength, tho while the per- , apiration of pain stood out on his hrow "You've got to confess now! It was | your " . , , i 1 ! Lady Flora caught her sister s hand. "I daren't-I daren't!" she gasped. I "Mother!" Rawarde said warnmgly, j in a low undertone, and glanced from the dying man to her. . A little flicker j passed over her face, but her look did i not falter. "Stanton, your revenge was not carried out." She moved to Ins side and stood looking down at him wit.'i pitiful eyes that held no reproach. "Flora was a. very poor conspirator; she was excited, and overwrought—she ] did not understand. She had not seen me, she had not seen poor Nettie, she j had onlv heard what the nurses had ' said, and—and confused their statements. She went to you directly Nettie's son was born, ib was her son who died, not mine." For an instant her gazo rested on Basil. "She had hoard j that the child was dead, but she had ; not heard that Nettie had had twin ( children. She used to come in when •she dared to see us. She had always been very fond of me, but 1 did nor know, then that you wero making use that fondness to serve your own ends. She found it very hard to get an opportunity to do as you wanted, but the house was in complete confusion, the police were watching it, and both Nettie and I wero very, very ill. She went into Nettie's room ; the child lay in tho cradle. It did not dawn on 1 her that a dead child was not likelv to be there. She exchanged thee hildrou as you had told her to do; and then, desperately afraid, she ran out of tho house. It was not until long afterwards, when poor Nettie, in the fever of her illness, escaped her nurse and disappeared for ever, that the truth bgan to dawn upon me. I sawFlora and made her tell me everything Basil"" —she laid her hand on his arm —"is your son and mine, Stanton." Neal did not speak. Ho lay back on the pillows, gasping heavily for his breath, but always his gaze was upon the duchess.

"If —if —" ho'began huskily. "Flora was always such a fool! Oh!" —looking at her search in gly —"I'd like to know your husband! You littlo imbecile! Why couldn't you tell the truth to mo?''

"I —I daren't!" Flora began, sobbing. "I was so afraid that you'd tell Tom. and—and—that I'd- —"

Neal was not Listening. He was fumbling with weak fingers for something that lie wanted. From under the pillow he drew an old letter case, and the duchess moved restlessly. "Lai, for you! She was a brute- to you ! Worse than ever I was! You have the —whip hand —now!" He fell

hack exhausted. j They stood, these two women, on ei--1 ther side of thehed and the man whom | each had loved to her own undoing, and their glances met. The duchess was too proud to sue for mercy from ' tho daughter she had injured, and too j bravo to flinch from the punishment she had brought upon herself; yet, in I her eyes, behind tho pride, behind the ] courage, was appeal. Basil watched | his mother. He know nothing of the ' letter, but he felt that much lay between the two who stood in silence. With a quieb dignity Alicia held out tho letter case. "Take it I ' It is yours!" A little thrill ran through the watchers as the old hand clutched the packet, and tho duchess realised that her secret was safe within her own keeping. A spasm moved her hard, cold face, and her head dropped; but Alicia was looking at her son. " Ho is dying, Basil," she said. He heard the ring in her voice, and saw his answer in her eyes, and turned upon them with swift and-sudden insistence. "Leave me!" she said. "Leave mc with —my husband!" And as Basil closed the door he saw j her kneeling beside the ibed, her sweet face aglow,h er hands upstrctched to him who had given her hitter for the sweet, and yet whose dying path was to j bo illumined and made clear by the j love that, through its own greatness, i forgave much. I THE END. - j .♦■v% „ . . ** •■■ ■ •