The Hidden End

Waikato Times, Volume 100, Issue 16800, 19 May 1926, Page 3

The Hidden End

CcurrUrtt. tPubllsle.d by a r ran gem on; wltu ihe Generjl Press, Lid.)

(By BEATRICE BIDDLE) Author of ‘‘Hearts and Diamonds,” “A Curious Experiment," ”Inisiblc Fetters," &c., &o.

CHAPTF.It XlX.—(Continued). As he fame in Mrs Wormesley appealed to her son. •‘Uorlra.m, am 1 not right in savins' that Wymerin is no til. male for a young girl? Why, when t. (Jonah's mother, was sixteen, lie was getting on lor lifly; surely his age in itself is sufficient reason to keep any girl from behaving towards tiini as Oonali docs..”

(Jonah turned upon her brother angrily before he had time to answer. “I am not in the least interested in your opinion on my actions, Bertram; ] don't ask your advice, and shan't dream of following it if you force it upon in?, .so you may as well save lioih your brealh and your brains."

"I speak for your good. Donah,' said her mother, ‘Though I know you don't, believe it: if you mairy Wymerin you will regret it all your life.” "That is what, people always say when one rnnfemplalcs doing a thing r.f which they disapprove," scoffed Hie girl. "You know perfectly we.h, mother. Hint there are plenty of people—finite young ones too—who'll marry him to-morrow it' lie gave them Ihe chance.'’

‘"They don't know him ns I do.” Mrs Wormesley said, softly. . "I know that lie never forgets nil injury, and never fails lo pay it off.” ‘‘What's that, got to do with il?” queried I lie girl. Lots of people have worse traits than that,” bn! her mother's only answer was a sudden shudder, as if a premonition of ceming evil had visited tier.

‘‘H, beats me why you ever threw David over,” said Bertram, speaking? for ttie first lime sii.ee lie had entered the room. “The tale iliat scoundrel Guthrie wrote you was a sheer malicious invention.”

“Shall I tell you why?” Oonali asked. “I threw him over because I din’t choose lo play second (iddle to Dorothy Alwen. Anybody who wasn't blind could have seen where David's heart was, and could have given a good cuess where Dorothy’s—” "We all know and deplore Ihe fa.-!.’ Mrs Wormesley inlerrupled quickly, "(hat you and'Dorothy can't get on together; but if you can't like her. you can ai least keep from saying unkind tilings about her. especially since she's to lie your sisler-iii-iaw." "Then, if l”m lo leave oilier penpie's affairs alone,” said Oonali. “Hie least they can do is lo leave mine,' and gathering up her opera-cloak and -loves, she left Ihe room. That night Mrs Wormesley hardly slept at all, but spent the long hours tossing from side to side or paring the iloor et her bedroom by the dim light of tile dying lire. At dawn she fell inin a troubled slumber, and later, aflcr a hasty breakfast, repaired to Wymerin House and asked for llie Earl.

He received her in the study in which most of his waking hours were spent. "You look ill.” lie said. "What is worrying you, Yiolel?” Pur young people's engagement goes well, doesn !, it? In a few days now your troubles should leave you—never, we hope, to return. What’s the matter?” “You know,” she answered, quickly. “Donii'l. try to act witli me, Wyemrin. 1 iiopcd you had changed at last when you offered to help me in my trouble with Bertram and in my want of money, but 1 think I’d rather have tilings as they were before I accepted your aid than as they arc now; at anv rate, il could not be worse.” "You flatter me," the Earl murmured.

"You-vc arranged the marriage that you promised lo arrange,” she an rwered. "Wymerin,” suddenly she she put out her hand and laid if on his arm, her eyes grew wide, there was a haunted expression in their dentils, “von're acting slraightly with me in that, aren't you? You haven't got one of your diabolical schemes up your sleeve, have you? This marriage is coming off, isn't it?” "My dear lady,” the Earl said, suavely. "I think you must have had a bad'night. How can I possibly stop the marriage? Hasn’t Dorothy got nil her trousseau? Aren’t the "°<‘- ding presents and the cake in the house? Haven't I been to no end of trouble and expense? Have I not fold Dorothy that the wedding means so much to me that, out of sheer personal gratitude lo me, she’s ready to go through with it? What more can I do?” Mrs Wormesley was silent for a moment. "it's no use,” she broke out at last. “I don’t Irusl you— I ran never trust you. Wymerin. why didn't you leave Oonali alone? If you had, shed have been David's wile by now.” “And wouid she have been a happy woman then, do you think?” queried ihe End. "Were she and David in Ihe slightest degree suited to each other? “Better suited.” Mrs Wormesley retorted, softly, “than she and—you

“You think so?” lie said. “Do you know I realiy don’t agree with you, Violet, it may seem conceit to you en my part, hut T declare lo you that, in spite of age and infirmities, I believe I am heltor suited to he Oonah's husband Ilian Orinaltiwaile could ever have been —Unit's inv honest opinion." "Then,’'' she said, "you intend to marry her?" "Thai's net, very nicely put..” the Earl objected, Smiling. Mr* Wormesley lapped her foot imp.ilientty. 'i want In know if you and Oonali intend to got narried?” "If we do,” the old man answered, "you will he Die (irst person io hear of our inlentinn.” ■ Do you mean it's not settled?” T do.” "Bui it will be soon.” "That will lie for Oonali to decide.” Mrs Womosley came and stood lieside the old man’s chair; her face was white lo the lips, tier eyes were wild. “Wymerin,” she said, almost in a whisper, “you can’t do it. Wymerin, will you let her go, and take —me?" The Earl's habitual cairn did not forsake him. ‘‘Wymerin,'' Violet said again, "twcnty-f’vo years ago you asked me to marry you. I accepted you against my will, and I played you false; to-day the tables are turned and it is 1 who ask, you who can refuse or acquiesce. Wymerin. you have broken my spiilt and you have broken my heart. Leave my daughter atone, and take me. At least we ahull b” Iwn decades nearer each other's age.”

Tli" Earl looked up, and. while he spoke, lie did not mice remove his gaze Irmn Mrs Wonnesley’s face. "Tvvenl y- five years ago you were a eirl of sixlirn. far more heanfifn' and far more charming Ilian your uail"liler will ever he. You had the

world at your feet. For six works I livod in Paradise—l wondered tlicn wiiy your mother hurried on the wedding as she did; I know now that it was because she understood the frailly of the tie which bound you to me It was at the very churrh itself that they came and told me that my bride could not he found —me, whom all ffuesls had seen standing in the chaneel awaiting her arrival. I slipped away by Ihe vestry’ door; I, Llie Karl of Wvmcrin—slunk down a by-lane to avoid the staring wonder of the crowd gathered in the Square; I was ashamed to show my face; some pitied me. some laughed behind my hack: I was the talk of (ho town. Are you surprised that 1 resented it, Violet?” “No," slic said. “If you wiil remember. I never expected any tiling else. Haven’t I refused all your offers of reconciliation until new? Didn’t 1 do it, because I felt it wasn't | rcconcilitUion that, you craved, hut, Die power to he revenged? I’ve not I changed my opinninn of you, Wymorin. yet, I ask you to make me your wife- —| could [ put a more subtle power of retaliation in our hands than that?” ■ * I)o you r< member,” the Karl mur- | mured, ‘‘that night I came to see you j late, after you had gone to >our| room? Your mother sent you to me I with your hair curling about your i shoulders, arrayed in some long, loose, heoy garment. I held you in my arms Violet. I wander, will Oonnh ever inspire me with Hie feedings with which you tilled my soul that night?” Slowly. Mrs Woarmesley turned and walked towards the door, slowly she crept away. Long after she. had gone, the falling’ of a cinder and the ticking of Hie deck were the only sounds which broke the siilcncc of the room which she had left. CHAPTER XX. There were now only seven days between Dorothy and her wedding day. it seemed lo tier that she had become nothing but a dressmaker’;! model. It. was on tier return home after a particularly tiring morning that the Karl sent her a message, asking nei Ic romc lo her study. She weul, and, at her entrance. David Ormathwr.ite. rose and held out his hand. The girl Hushed and sat down in Die nearest chair. She knew iiolii men were watching her. and she mad: a desperate fight to maintain her composure. /Stic was aware, before a word had hern spoken, that Ihe atmosphere of the room was charged with hostility.

“Dorothy," tier guardian said. “Sir David lias come to ask your hand in marriage, and, though I tell him hint you arc within a week of your wedding day. he refuses to he satisfice until he has heard his fate from your own 1 i ns.”

' Dorothy looked from one to the other in sheer amazement:; Onnathwailc had warned her that lie would do all in his power to prevent her marriage to Wnrmosloy, bui il hart never occurred to her that lie would ask her to go .through such an ordeal as Hi is.

“Sir David knows that 1 am going lo marry Ucrtram ’NYomcley.”

"Apparently,” murmured the Karl, sarcastically—“at least so 1 .gather from liis remarks—that, fart is less than of no importance in Sir David’s eyes." Ormathwaitc spoke, and his voice was very low, deep and gentle; "I don’t want to know whom you l ave promised to marry. 1 want to ask you, before your guardian, witom you love ?”

“He wants to ask it so much.” Hie Karl interrupted, with his twisted, cynical smile, "that I've been absolutely unable to get rid of him unlit lie’s done il. You'll oblige me very much by selling his mind at rest” H was some moincnls before Doiolliv answered: —

"One rioi's not willingly marry r.ur rnnn,” she said at last, "while one loves another; Sir David must surely know that. I can say no more, except that I resent very deeply both bis behaviour and his questions, fit go away now: my remaining iicre is an act of disloyalty lo Det-tram.” She rose, but Orrnalhwaite sprang up, and reaching tlic door before in r, put his back against it. Dorothy stamped her foot.

“Open Ibe door,” she eried peremptorily. "whore are your mannersV” “j don't know and I don't eare,” he answered quickly, his face as while as hers, his eyes even more am "lily determined than the pair the! gazol into iliem. “You've not answered my question: all you’ve said is that you wouldn't willingly marry one man while loving another —I know you woublu !- —that’s why 1 am “ire ino laud is forcing you inlo a union in which your heart plays no pari at all. Dorothy, forgive me; in “•'oryIhing else t am your servant and your slave, but in Ibis one Dung 1 wii! have my own way—i will !■ I ruth. We’ll resume our good manners and our society veneer later on, but just now we'll speak the truth to one another from our hearts. Dorothy —t implore you." Dorothy gazed widely into bis beseeching eyes, bui she did not answer. Some guiding instinct told Iter that in silence lay her only chance of victor). (To be continued to-morrow.)