For Her Sister's Sake; OR, THE LAVENDEN SECRET.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXIX, Issue 8318, 24 December 1906, Page 2

For Her Sister's Sake; OR, THE LAVENDEN SECRET.

["For Her Sister's Sake " was commenced on December 20th.]

CHAPTER ll.—Continued. She had risen from her seat at a grand piano—whose strings were still quivering under the crashing cords she had just struck—to drop on a lounge and motion Agnew to take his seat beside her. She drew her skirts of simmering yellow about her that there might be room for him- , . „ , , . , Edward Agnew lifted his brows with an air of "polite incredulity. But his neighbour laughed—a forced, malicious little laugh. "Oh, yes, I am," she insisted. "For one thing it is high time someone spoke to you about a certain matter. And for another, I have never seen you angry. Anger is not becoming, to a handsome Mtixii, it he happens to be well bred. The young M.P. bowed. "You have gilded the pill charmingly, baroness," he said, "whatever it may be. But I assure you that you have the right to critize me and my doings-as frankly as you please. Do I not owe you my seat in the House, the support and friendship of Sir Francis, in short, my chance of a

Constance Istria regarded him with singular attention. "To some women, Agnew," she retorted, "and I am one of them, gratitude from a man appears to be an emotion the verse of flattering. It is a feeling usually reserved by your sex for, the old or the ugly among mine. But that apart, prepare to be made angry, for my methods, like those of a merciful surgeon, are swift and searching." > / She leaned forward and pointed covertly with her fan. "Look," she bade him, and EdAgnew looked. From the lounge they could see into the glass-covered balcony that commanded the darkness of the park and the Lane. In the corner of it, .alone and thoughtful, sat Winnie Lavenden. A solitary electric light burned over her, throwing a soft lustre upon her slender arms and girlish throat and her simple white gown. "A pretty picture, isn't it?" murmured Constance Istria, "for those who like maidenly simplicity? As for

me, I find it rather insipid. Yet, when I calied to you to come and / turn over my music, you seemed to be quite agreeably entertained by Miss Innocence."' Edward Agnew bent a grave glance upon the speaker. His brown skin had paled. The passions of men who pale in their anger are deeper and stronger than those which bring the blood to brow and cheek. ;"I find kiss Lavenden, I confess," he responded, "that rare thing, a quick-witted high,-minded English girl, withoutvanity or affectation. Also she has, without losing

her own native charm, lived a life of which I own, I know nothing, and yet would fain understand —the N life of those who live and labour jupon the edge of a grinding poverty. Perhaps it is the contrast between her past and her present which makes her shy wisdom and candour so fascinating."

Her Companion bit her lip. "So," she exclaimed, "we have the extraordinary spectacle of a rising politician deserting his Parliamentary duties night after night to sit at the feet of a very young lady, just because she once happened to earn her Oh, my dear Agnew, have"you no sense of humour? Are you really the ambitious Edward Agnew whom I dreamed of seeing Prime Minister, the Edward Agnew at f whose service I was proud to placed what influence and experience yeai'S of sorrow and suffering had brought to Istria." . .She.spoke in a voice that she !; had allowed dexteriously to tremble, £and she plucked, as though to disguise her emotion, at the inlaid ebony of her fan.

• Edward Agnew hesitated and she saw it. "There, I.have made you angry," she said quickly, "and I am a woman and frightened at I have done. But be assured, I meant nothing. Only I wanted to say that your characteristic interest in Winnie and, indeed, she is a dear little soul —might be misinterpreted by her. She is practically a child still, remember, and probably quite unused to masculine attentions, though she may have had a dozen lovers in that squalid Islington place, for all I know. However, in any case, you would 5 not like her to misunderstand you—to imagine you in-—in love with her." Shutting her fan with a click, she sprang up and went round 'the lounge. "Not another word, .my dear Edward," she added, lingering an instant upon his Christian name. "I have taken a liberty—the liberty, believe me, of a true friend , and ally. But the less said about such matters the better. Even .if you had felt a kind of tenderness for her, it would/ have been quite natural—we all have moments when sweet simplicity appeals to us. But as a young and ambitious —and none too rich—professional man, it would be madness for you to foster such a fancy. She has not a shilling, except what Julia can give her." Agnew listened with a kind of stern respect. But he made no attempt to interrupt or to answer her fluent, plausible sentences. Constance Istria shrugged her shoulders, and the diamonds about her neck glittered like drops of living light. "Not that I ever feared for you, really," she said, "but Winnie is in my charge, and I cannot have her made unhappy. I have been —I am --unhappy myself." She learned over the back of the

lounge; her hand rested for a moment on his. and her warm breath fanned his cheek. Anothfcr second

1 By Norman Silver, Author of "A Double Mask," (( A Daughter of Mystery," "Held Apart," "The Golden Dwarf," etc.

and she was gone—gone to where the click of a roulette-ball and the ripple of feminine laughter betrayed the presence of her other guests. Edward Agnew sat for some minutes, lost in reflection. But the expression on his shadowed features gave no clue to the nature of his reverie.

Looking up, at length, his glance feel upon Winifred Lavenden. She had moved a little in her seat, and was gazing out into the darkness beyond the glass panes of the gallery. There was something strangely appealing in the turn of her young head and the loose raven tendrils that clustered about the white temple and small pink ear. He rose and entered the balcony. Winnie started; then, seeing him, smiled.

"A: penny for your thoughs," he observed, pausing by her. Winnie coloured.

"I believe I had rather lost myself," she admitted. "The baroness was playing so exquisitely that I got into a brown study, and if somebody hadn't spoken to me I expect I should have stayed in it for quite awhile." Agnew contemplated her upturned face, feeling how rare was its pure, strong beauty. "And you were thinking," he added, "about— —" [To be Continued. ]