THE CURSE OF HER LIFE OR A DARK SECRET.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 3074, 19 December 1908, Page 2

THE CURSE OF HER LIFE OR A DARK SECRET.

' CHAPTER IV.—Continued. She crossed the room in her usual swift and impetuous, but graceful, movement, and joined iier husband on the terrace. " Why didn't you sing Heathcote's song for him?" her husband gruffly asked, as she linked her white hands on his arm, "Partly because I did not like the song, and partly because I am tired." "Did you come out here to get rested." "I came because you were here." "Lately you seem wonderfully fond of being where I am," and he looked at her with furtive keeness. "I only seem what I am." ■?'ls that true, Edith?" She lifted her gloriously black eyes full to his face. "Did I ever tell you a lie, sir?" "Not to my knowledge. But you are very clever; I should never find it out if you had." • Edith suppressed a sigh. She remembered too well the lies she had told about the night she was lost en the mountain with her cousin. She had an uneasy fear that those lies would yet bear their bitter fruit.

"As long as you have never caught me in one," she said, "you ought to believe me."

"Yes," answered her husband, surprised at her not resenting his rude speech. "There is another odd thing about you," he said; "you don't lose your temper as easily as you used to do." "Parhaps I don't have so much occasion." "Perhaps," Tyrrell said thoughtfully, and then, after a long pause: "How old am I, Edith—do you know ? " "You are seventy-one, sir." "And how many wifes have I had?" "Three before .me." She coloured and bit her lips to keep back a laugh. "Do you think I am an old fool to want a fourth at my age, and one so young and beautiful as you?" "No." "Is that honestly said?" "Yes, it is indeed." Fairfax Tyrrell stood looking down at her. He was thinking how fair and young she was, how gray and old he. Then his eyes wandered within to Randal Heathcote, moving gaily and gracefully about amnrg his guescs in the drawing room.

Oh, if he could only be young again like that!

"It was a fair bargain, Edith, was it not? 1 gave all my money for you, and you gave yourself for the money?"

"You can taks the money back any time, you know," the young wife answered, with some spirit. "You have only to alter your will, or even destroy it."

"Yes, I know I could destroy it, and then Rose would get most of the property. But Rose's mother did not marry to please me, and I've done enough for htr. under the circumstances. Besides, though I am such a wicked old fellow, I never break my word. 3 » bog- as you keep your part of the contract between us, I sha'n't alter my will, nor destroy it. But, I say, Edith—you would think I was :>. fool to expect you to love such a cross, tyrannical old greybeard as I am?"

Edith hesitated. She had never seen her husband in such a mood as this before. Would he fly into one of his bitter tempers if she told him the truth? She resolved to try him. "I didn't marry you for love, sir. You knew that at the time?" "Yes," he groaned, "I knew it; but I thought that when you saw yourself the mistress of a fine place, with money and carriages and servants at your consmand, you would love me for giving- thorn all to you." " r .t takes something besides all that to win love." "Of course," the old man said bitterly, "I suppose a handsome face and a flattering, tongue are worth'it all." "No, I don't care so much for handsome faces, and I don't like flattery at all. I do like to be spoken kindly to, end to be trusted, instead of suspected." "Could you—no, you couldn't hwve learned to love me if I had always been kind, and had never been jealous of you?" "I think I might, sir." "But all your heart was given to that scoundrel cousin of yours! How could you ever love me?" Edith's pale face grew whiter, but she spoke in steady tones. "My cousin Randal doesn't deservo any woman's love. It would have been easy enough turning my love from him." An eager spark leaped into the grey eyes watching her. "Is it to" late now, Edith?" His hand closed on the two clasped on his arm. His face bent towards her, flushed with hope and tender anxiety. His eyes were hungry with yearnirg. Edith was touched. After all, ihis man was her husband. lie had many noble traits of character, and at this moment his face, always possessed of a certain grandeur, looked almost young and handsome. Perhaps if she had always treated him as she had the week past he would have been different to her. "It is too late to take my love from mv cousin. It was taken from him some time ago." "Edith, you don't love me?" She looked up archly.

"1 don't love anyone else." He drew a long, happy, incredulous breath. One arm stole round her in the -iim light uf the terrace. '•'vtv darlrhg!" he exclaimed fondlv i' d ..imier/jj/, "if devotion and trc.it >t.ii win love, if shall be

By HELEN COKWIN PIEIICE, Author of "At His Own Game," "Carrie Emerson Wilde," "Sadly Matched," "The Cheated Bridy," Etc.

CHAPTER V. A STEALTHY VISIT. A servan', pushed aside the halfclosed blind and came out upon the terrace. He was looking for Captain Tyrrell, lie had a letter in his hand. "A tebgram, sir," he said, presenting it. • Captain Tyrrell stepped towards the light. He never wore glasses. His sight was as true and keen yet as a hawk's. Randal Heathcote slipped up to where he had stood by his wife. His handsome face was distorted by an evil sneer. "So," ne whispered, "you're tryin* to make the old fellow believe ycu love him, are you?" Edith shot a contemptuous glance on him from her black eyes. "1 do love him better than I ever did you," hhe said defiantly. His face darkened. "Yes, I dare say. It's a good thing to pretend so, at all events. He might after his will if you did not."' She did not deign to luok at him this time, but darted through the window to her husbar.d, leaving Heathcote biting his lip and ing"l believe I'm actually jealous of that old fool," he said at last, turning on his heel with an angry laugh. He paced the terrace some moments to recover his usual smiling selfpossession, then he went in through the library. When he reached the drawingroom again, inquiry was made for him, and he heard that Captain Tyrrell had received a relfgram saying that his brother, Lord Disbro, was dying at London Craig, a hunting seat of his in the Highlands. Captain Tyrrell met him, with his wife hanging upon his arm. "I must get away at once, if you please, Cousin Heathcote." "Of course. Have you given o -ders for a carriage to be put in readiness." "I took the liberty." "We shall be sorry to lose you, but of course you must go," responded Heathcote, with a rapid glance at Edith which her husband caught as 'well as she. Edith was very pale. As she went upstairs with her husband, she asked timidly: "Can't I go with you?" "Impossible. I must catch the first train, and you could never be ready in time. But it wrings my heart to leave you here. I am jealous of that man, Edith; I can't help it." "You need not be. Ask Barbara, if you so desire. Only trust me, and believe in me. You know he is a bad man, and Rose hates me." "Rose sha'n't hurt you. She can't insinuate things against you to me any more." "Then I was right," thought Edith. "Rose has talked to him about me." (To be continued).