"A SECRET SORROW."

Thames Star, Volume XXIX, Issue 8618, 24 March 1897, Page 1

"A SECRET SORROW."

BY MRS MAY AGNES FLEMING.

Author of " A Mad Marriage," " Carriedßy Storm."

CHAPTER XXII.

(Continued.) The old woman, Wail, however, from the first, lookeJ on our increasing intimacy with an unfavourable eye She evidently concluded that if I was what I professed to be. my intentions respecting her grandchild conldn»s be Tery honourab'e; and if I was not what I professed to be, why then her child must look to be the wife of an honester man. 1 But neither little Madoline or I cared for her objections. With the trusting, confading nature of her sex, she gave her heart, into my keep;ng, only to be wren* and broken. Little did eitbe- of us thi k when arm in arm we strolltd through the moonlight, I pouring my fale of passion into her too wiUiog ear, how fatally it was destined to end for us both !' Ho paused again, white a half shudder ran through his frame.

Kate wiped the death damp off his brow in sib-m sympathy. When he again resumed, his voice w*a tow and tremulous.

' Why need I linger over this—why need I repeat the o!d story of vows never fulfilled—of a fair brow stamped with the brand of a Mazdalen-of a broken hearr, and shame hidden, perhaps, in the graveP Oh, wretch that I was ! oh, Madoline! Madeline ! lost to me tor erer!

' I dare not linger orer this; it maddens me erea now to think of that,' he went, on rapidly after a shot pause; 1 suffice it that 1 was awakened from my brief dream of happiness by a visit from Menda'vi to tell me the men refused to obey him lopger. and urging me to depart immediately. I dared not refuse, yet how. cou'd I leave MadolineP I knew she would fly with me willingly, but I cou'd not tell her she had been wooed by an outlawed pirate instead of a nobln peer. Neither d're I truit myself to bi'i her farewell—her tears and entreaties might prove stronger than any resolution—and I was forced to depart without bidding her adieu. We hare never met since.'

' Did the die?' asked Kate, for the first time breaking silence.

• I know not. A few months after, I returned to the Tillage, but she and her grandmother had both gone. I felt I could not lire without her, and I returned to tell her all, and then, if she could forgive me, to make her my wife and go with her somewhere, and, unknown, under an assumed name, to «ire up reckless life. Bat I came too late; both were gone. I was almost wild at the news. Everywhere I made inquiry, but in Tain. All that I eooM lea^n was that sbe had secretly fled from the Tillage first, and (hat old Wail had sold her cot'ase soon after, and fo loved her, ■ Since then I hare never been able the discover the 'cast trice of either of them.

The name struck Kate as familiar, and the recollection of o'd Moher Wail, the Witch of the Moor, flashed across her mind. Could thej be one and the same person ? With it came the recollection of ber wild prophecy on tha night of the ball: 'I see here danger, and sorrow, and s-hame, and disgrace, and, it may be, death. There is dinger to yourself near at hand; sorrow for aome one near you at present; bhame for one, the proudest bcre to-night; disgrace to the house of Danemore, and death cither for you or , for seme near relation.

It had come true, that strange, wi'd prophecy. And then earns the remembrance of the strange agitation of Lady Danemore at set ing her. Could she be his Madoline? It, was her name; she was French by birth, though adopted by an Baalish lady, and she was certainly lovely euoogh to justify his praises- Had the father wedded one who should have been the bride of ibe son ? How »lse could she account for her mysterious sorrow? Kate's brain crew gddywith thamultiude of thoughts that flashed across it, and she pressed her hand on her heart tj still its tumultuous beat* ings. Suddenly he reached out his hand and took hers, She looked up; the grayness of coming death had fallen on his face'l am going,' be said faintly; ' pray.' And Kate did pray, though in a voice choked by tears. He held her hand in hit and gazed steadily in her face. She conld see nothing save the earnest look of those great, mournful blue eyes. ' It is growing so° dark,' he said absent!/, hia mind beginning to wander, 1 and so cold ! Madoline !'

Kate's voice faltere >, then totally gave way, as her tears fell fast on the pale face.

He lay with his eyes closed for a few moments, then fixing them earnestly on her face, he said —

'Pray/, Choking back her tear?, she complied. Gradually, bs sh« pioce^ded, her ?oics grew stronger, as she sent up an earnest petition for mercy. The restless look faded from his fa-e us he listened. Slowly his hand relaxed its graep of hers; hi* deep, melincholj blue eyes wandeied eagerly for a, moment around, as though in search of someone, then a slight convulsive shudder passed through hit frame, his lips parted, but bo sonnd came forth; his eyelids swayed heavily, and ho was gone.

j And so the day wore on, and Boon anud hnumuff to herself. Ifcte saidT^ Mcl he, I muse leave you for awhile. few hm n u be afraid l 0 "«"»'» Wn?s few hours by yourself wilJ yW Uee i, no, hone/. I soared!' mid the old womin, wiahout lokinu up. Yon ii be sure to stay here antil I reiS7sly7Oa nOtP> •»« *^ WmewiTt ; was, neither. Juar. you to alone. 11l attend to things til you Ret back.' B-assoredby the od wom.ns ton*. withoutfir ? t enteruw-the «reat drawr chamber where Alice had been detained • jiriioser It was empty. A handfil ?u "hes «d ■ Mf-bumt log j«t lay ia the bu«e fireplace. On the floer wm scattered rarioos articles left by the earl m hi< hastb-r-but where was Alicep With a sigh, Kate turned away-erery-thing seemed to grow darker and mote drear the longer she thoujht of it. It was growing dark when she easM within sight of the tail trees and peaked gabjes of Dirriole. v, hat strange vreatl had taken pace rinee nh. fc»a itH it Ms !—what wond rful discoveries lttd come »o light! It all seemed likens troubled dream to her now; bat, akMl ahe could nut long think it * dream—it was too stern a realty. • Qaiet and dark Dirritole erer looked; bat n Beemed stiller and quieter, and ssdder now than eTer.^here wm somethinj! almost moarnfnl in the low whine of recognition with which the shacCT house-dog welcomed her. v Uo^ tiakiai haart. Kate entered the bail. She dreaded to meet unannounced any of the family, feaiof the effect! of a sudden surprise. As she stood hesitaiingly, thinking over what plan she nai best pursue, the dining-room door euddeS ly opened, and the prim housekeeper. Jliiss ihekett, made her appearance, bnuk in hand. ,

As her eyes fell on Kate, she dropptd her brush, and, throwing up both her arms, uttered a stifled scream. Well might she exclaim at teeing Kate, before her-so pale, so thin, so sorrowfal-look-in*—the mere shaddow of her former self.

'Hush 1' soid Kite, in a harried whisper,' make no noise. Come with nw. I wish to speak to you.' Mechanically Miss Dickett followed her. She had always been accustomed to obey Miss Sidney; and even now, though bhe beleved it was Kate's ghost she was following, she did not resist

{To be .Continued.)