THE DUKES SECRET.

Auckland Star, Volume XXX, Issue 144, 20 June 1899, Page 6

THE DUKES SECRET.

(Ey BEBTHA M. CLAY.)

father of "Thrown on the World,' 'Wife in Name Only,' 'Her Martyrdom,' 'Beyond Pardon,' 'A True ujlagdalen,' 'Dora Thome,' 'A Mad iXove,' 'A Golden Heart,' 'A Broken UVedding King,' 'Thorns and Orange Blossoms.'

CHAPTER LXV.

HIE STORY OF AN AKT.UESS GIRL.

Naomi's thoughts wandered to that scene in the picture-gallery, to the handsome, melancholy lace of the duke, and the sweet face of Lady Valentine.

■How she loves him!' thought Naomi, 'how she loves him! She placed herself before him as though she would defend him from everything in this world. It would be better a thousand times if he procured a separation from me and married her.' Then she sighed bitterly, as she said to herself: 'Was this the end of a life-long love? I wish 1 knew my own heart better. No girl could have loved more fondly more deeply, than I did. I would have given my life for him with a smile in those days. No girl was ever so cruelly wounded, so scorned, so outraged? He calls it the cowardice of a moment; he says that he did not speak lest he should be parted irom me; but how can I forget? The picture is burned in my brain; the proud, scornful woman who branded me with her shameful words, the handsome young lordling who stood by, "waiting" to take the brand from my brow xiuitil it should be safe to do so.

'And that prond woman who scorned me, who slandered and shamed me —she would go on her knees to me now to beg of me to be her son's wife. I am the same Naomi she drove away in shame too great for words; then I was unknown, obscure, penniless Naomi' Wynter; now I am Miss Glynton, one of the richest heiresses in England. .'Now her enemies encompass her. they triumph over her; they boast to her that no son of her son shall ever take his father's place; they boast that the son of her enemy shall rule in her son's stead; and I hold her in my power. I prayed Heaven, with mad, wild prayers, to give that woman into my hands, and Heaven has done so. Let me take my triumph over her. One word from me, and he goes lonely to his grave, tmcheerd either by love of wife or "uaicheered either by love of wife or her life in ruins around her. Another word from me, and wealth that is almost fabulous, with a wife for whom princes and peers have striven, is his! iWhich word, shall i speak? What shall I do? She shall drink the cup she gave me to drink, even to its dregs. She shall suffer every pain she made me suffer; and then—then. I Will think jvhat word 1 shall speak — what I shall do.'

Sherose from her seat, and began to pace weaijly up and down the magnificent ro®m. Let her eyes - rest where they would, on all sides, they saw nothing1 but luxury and magnificence, opulence and splendour; her very soul seemed to be oppressed by it. Oh, to stand once more by the white gate in the pleasant woods off Eood, and meet her lover, believing in him and his love! —to throw off, if but for one hour, the weight of wealth and the sense of the tragedy that had darkened her life! —to lay her arms once more round Bertrandi's neck, and ask, as she had done a hundred times before, did he really love her with his whole hejirt better than all- the world besides? How he had kissed her as he answered 'Yes.'

Then she grew impatient with herself. She was not sure that she wanted his love; when one has suffered so keenly, it is difficult to know the real state of heart and mind.

Could she ever forgive him this want of courage which seemed to her so cruel, so base? She never could forgive it, and as the thought lay in her mind the door opened suddenly and the Lady Valentine Arden was announced. She had no time to say whether she would see her or not, for Lady Valentine stood there with grave, anxious eyes looking in her face.

'You want me, Lady Valentine,' she said. 'I am at your service.'

Naomi wondered at the grave anxiety on the fair, sweet face, on the wistful look in the tender violet eyes. The girl stood before her, tall, grave, trect, her dress of simple black, and a black hat with a dark plume shading her face. Naomi's heart was touched by her aspect; she did not look in the least like a successful or even a happy rival; she looked sad and sorrowful, as though the thoughts that filled her mind were too heavy for words.

She went up to 'Naomi, and in spite cf the slight resistance took her hands.

'Yes,' she said, 'I wanted to see you. I have something very special, very particular I wish to say to you. Some people would have been afraid —but 1 am not afraid of you.'

A spirited declaration, considering the scene which had passed. Naomi liked her all the better for it. It interested her at once. 'I have nothing to be afraid of. I have done no harm. J have come here to speak for one ■whom I love a thousand times better than I love my life. Still I repeat that some people would have felt shy at coming- to see you; you have so much in your favour.' 'That is true,' said Naomi, simply. 'Toil have much to say to me. You will stay some time; let me remove jour cloak and hat.' Lady Valentine thanked her, and I.cok the heavy cloak from her shoulders, then removed the hat from her fair head. She looked so fair, so girlish, that Naomi could not take her

eyes from her; then she drew her to an easy chair.

'You must rest while you talk to me,' she said; 'it is so much easier to talk when one is quite as ease.' She placed Lady Valentine in the crimson lounging chair, and then sat clown herself. But Lady Valentine rose quickly, and coming over to her, she knelt down by her side. 'Do not send me away from you,' she cried; 'I have that to say to you which is heavy on tay heart/ Do not send me away from you; I must be near you; I must feel that in some, way you are my friend.1 '1 will not send you away,' Naomi replied, taking the two small, white hands in hers, and holding them in a friendly clasp. rI will hear all that you have to say.' She was touched by the fact that in spite of jealousy, rivalry, of all that had passed between them in the picture gallery, the young girl had sought her out, and trusted her.

'I want to tell you first about myself, 1 said Lady Valentine. 'I will tell you the whole truth, just as though you were my sister. 1 will keep nothing from you, and you will see that although you have suffered much, others have their share.

'T came here to England some months ago, and until then, Naomi — let me call you Naomi, it brings me rearer to you—until then I had spent my whole life with my father, who is a great invalid. We spent the most (|Uiet .and retired lives; he was not well enough to visit or to admit visitors. I hardly knew what society was like; as to seeing young and handsome men, I never thought of it. 'When I came to England and saw the duke it was like a revelation to me. I declare to you,' she added, with sweet impetuosity, 'that I did not know there were such men in the world. T think that unconsciously to myself I must have loved him from the first moment I saw him. The t'Tave, proud beauty of his face, the sweetness of his temper and disposition, the grace and chivalry of his manner, his kindness to me, all took my heart captive before T knew that I had a heart, or that I could lose it.

'Before I knew anything about it, Ivaomi, I worshipped him. If I had been brought up like other girls I prould, perhaps, be ashamed to tell you; but no one ever talked to me about love and lovers—no one. When I lived in Nice the only thing that impressed me was a picture that hung1 in the salon of a lady we visited there —a beautiful picture called 'The Martyrdom of San Sebastian,' and the f;ice of the martyr was just like the face of the duke—it struck me at once. 'i can not tell you when I began to love him, or when love of him became dearer than life; it must have been from the moment I saw him. J did not know it, Naomi. I came to the duchess almost as her own child, j;nd I loved her at once. I believe I am the only one in the wide world who has ever caressed her and i.ved her. I loved the duke too; not knowjug1 there was anything- to conceal, :J. concealed nothing. I frankly s'howod my pleasure and happiness when he was with me, ray regret and pain when he was not. I never cared to go out without him; when we received invitations I waited to see if he accepted his. 1 loved "him so dearly and so well that the sound of his voice brought the hot colour burniiiig- to my face. If he touched my hand I felt like a leaf in the wind; if 'he gave me anything—a book, of a flower—l treasured it more dearly than a miser treasures gold. Ah, Naomi, the only spot where he was held all the light and brightness of the world to me; when he was away the world was all one dreary j blank. My heart was full of happiness; there were times even when I I was beside myself, and he must have I read my heart like an open book. !My face must have told him my de- ! tight when he was with me. I heard people say of him that he was a woman hater, a man who cared no- : thing for the society of ladies. I ! knew better; to me he was always I quiet and kind, and I loved him. | Heaven 'help me when I remember I how clearly and how well. Yet all this I time he was only kind to me, Naomi, ; nothing more; kind as he would hn-rc I been to a sister, if Heaven had given | him one.'

(To be Continued.)