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