A Terrible Secret

ith puffy of seats of blue satin; on blue and gilt panelled walls; on a wonderfully carved oaken ceiling; on sweeping draperies of blue satin and whi

nds howl, the great rooms of Catheron Royals are ever chilly. So on the white-tiled hearth of the blue drawing-room this summer evening a coal fire flickers and fal

eron, baronet, the last of his Saxon race and name, the lord of all these sunny acres, this noble Norman pile, the smiling village of Catheron below. The master of a stately park in Devon, a

t is at all possible to be. A fair fate surely. And yet while the August night shuts down, while the wind whistles in the trees, while the long fingers of the elm

is Spanish. Her dead mother was a Castilian, and that mother has left her her Spanish name, her beautiful, passionate Spanish eyes, her hot, passionate Spanish heart. In Old Castile Inez was bo

ally handsome face, came with her. It was her only brother Juan, an imp incarnate from his cradle. He did not remain long. To the

ndor about her as she stands here in the firelight, in her trailing purple silk, in the cross of rubies and fine gold that

d the heavy patter, patter, of the rain-beats on the glass. That, and the lig

ed for nearly an hour, but she looks up now, her black

"and he should have been here at six. What if he s

nd leans out into the night. The crushed sweetness of the rain-beaten roses floats up to her in the wet darkness. Nothing to be seen but the va

ain fall, and ret

she whispers to herself.

other, the smiling face of a fair-haired, blue-eyed, good-looking lad. It is a very pleasant face; the blue eyes look at you so brightly, so frankly; t

ng ago decided that. They would have been more convinced of it than ever, could they have

vowed to love and cherish me always-as he did then. Let hi

the rain, comes another sound-a sound she has been listening for, longing for, praying for-the rapid roll of carriage w

for the sound of his voice, the sight of his face, the clasp of his hand, all these weary, lonely mo

master in the hall-a quick, assured tread she would know among a thousand; she hear

Lara has ret

ips part-she takes a step forward, all anger, all fear, all neglect forgotten-a girl in love going to meet her lover. The

arest

round her, and touches his blond

ke sure of this fact, then drops it "Uncommonly well," he repeats; "give you my word I never saw you looking half a qua

e the fire, throws back his blonde head, a

me. Beastly sort of weather for the last week of August-cold as Iceland

lory," a mustache. The girl has moved a little away from him, the flush of "beauty's bright transcient glow" has died out of her face, the hard, angry look has come back

arefully waxed mustache can hide the weak, irresolute mouth, the delicate, characterless chin. While he talks carelessly and quickly, while his slim white fingers loop and unloop his wat

s blue room, this red fire, looked a moment ago, as I stepped out of the darkness and rain. It brings back the old times-this used to be her favorite morning-room,"

ry low; she leans one arm upon it, loo

has a slight regard left for Catheron Royals, and am humbly grateful for his recollect

her lips up in that tight line, and snaps her black eyes in that unpleasant way, I know to my cost, it means 'war to

good-humored smile on

n of you! My dear Inez, I don't kno

the close of August. Every day of that absence has been an added insult to me. Even now you would not have been here if I had not w

on race from which he sprung is in his vein

then you have an excitable sort of nature, and were ever i

n a man. The Catheron blood has bred many an outlaw, many bitter, bad men, but to-d

lashing, then falls back, look

ning

ning

yours, Inez, I wonder? Your Castilian mother, surely; the women of our house were never shrews. And even you, my dear, may go a little

etly, and his blue eyes gleam dangerous

herited from my Castilian mother. You shall learn whether you are to play fast and loose with me at your sovereign w

pale, that smile on his li

," he answers coolly; "it was

her own. The hot fire dies out of her eyes, an awful terror comes in its place. With all her heart, all her strength, she

it was to

y that he springs t

t! Here, take my chair, and for pity's sake don't look like

fond, and a little afraid of his gipsy cousin. He is afraid still-horribl

her voice when she speaks again. The great, sole

sort of whisper; "was to have been. Vi

. He holds the back of the chair with one hand, she cli

atter now? But think well before you speak-there is more at stake than you know of. My whole future life hangs on your word

ck of the chair, his face avert

though it were but yesterday-a little, flaxen-haired, blue-eyed boy in violet velvet, unlike any child I had ever seen before. I saw a woman with a face like an angel, who took me in her arms, and kissed me, and cried ove

tands silent, but his left hand

ether by her bedside. It was as this is a stormy summer night. Outside, the rain beat and the wind blew; inside, the stillness of death was everywhere

to him, all her heart b

neither lo

you. She must never face the world alone. My son, you love her-promise me you will cherish and protect her always. She loves you as no one else ever will. Promise me

and to her room. We kissed the pillow where her dying head had lain; we knelt by her bedside as we had done that other night. You placed this ring upon my finger

een my one comfort all these years. Though all your coldness, all your neglect for the last year and a

f the whispered slanders that have reached me I do not speak; I do not believe them. Weak you may be, fickle you may be, but you are a gentleman of loyal race and blood; you will keep your plighted troth. Oh, forgive me, Victor! Why do you make me say such things to you? I hate myself for them, but your

d as she speaks-her han

let the past be dead and forg

those soft hands touch

touch me, Inez! It can never b

s herself, with eyes alight. She reco

r be?" sh

tor and a coward. I stand here perjured before God, and you, and my dea

ems to comprehend. There is a pause-the firelight flickers, they hear the rain lashing

s done. I met her, and I loved her. She has been my wife for sixteen months, and

astly pause that follows lasts he never knows-a century, counting by what he undergoes. Once, during that pause,

ing bed, and see how

k. Without speaking to him, without looking at him, she turns

he says, slowly and d

em home; I shall b