A Terrible Secret
sir,-disgracefully, I say, to your cousin Inez. And you are the first of your line who has blurred the family escut
. The young man stood listening in sullen anger, the red blood mounting to his very temples. His Cousin Inez had managed during the past two weeks to make his
wife may be-it is the only charge that can be brought against her. I have married to please myself, and it does
lieve her to be as good as she is pretty. But again your conduct I do and will protest. You have cruelly, shamefully wronged your cousin-
been grand inquisitors of a Spanish inquisition, if such a thing ever existed. I am afraid to face her. She stabs my wife in fifty different ways fifty times a day, and I-my guilty conscience won't let me sil
or, you will turn her
ife. You are her friend, Aunt Helena; you will be doing a fri
ed to go, his handsome b
try to forgive you for your mother's sake. Though you broke her heart she would have forgiven you. I will try to do as she would have do
ail. The invitation is
Thanks v
end-the only one who had taken the slightest notice of her since her arrival. For the residen
e prepared to accept-banking and brewing are genteel sort of things. But a soap-boiler!-and married in secret!-and a baby born in lodgings!-and Miss Catheron jilted in col
esire had been that he should marry his cousin. He had promised, and Lady Helena's strongest hope in life had been to see that promise fulfilled. The news of his low marriag
er and womanly heart, despite its pride of birth, that beat in Lady Helena's bosom; and jo
make the best of a bad bargain; and 'pon my life, my love, it's the sweetest little face the sun ever
dusk drawing-rooms of the Royals, a little white vision, with fair, floating hair, and pathetic blue eyes-a
as though she had been eight rather than eighteen. "You're nothing but a bab
te where the heir of Catheron Royals slept, and as she kissed his velvet cheek and looked pityingly from babe
ook too happy. Don't be too hard on her, my dear-it isn't her fault. Victor is to blame. No one feels that more t
of her own luxurious room, turned her face
and his wife," she answered steadily
of that lurid splendor lit her dark, colorless face with a vivid glow. Lady Helena looked at h
d of course you can't be expected to feel very kindly to her who has usurped your place. But I would let her alone if I were
ron Royals-is that what you ar
, my
ee he did. And so I am to be turned from Catheron Royals for the soap-boiler's daughter,
e do? Something in the set, intense face of the girl frighte
or poor Victor's sake I want to make the best of it. I give a dinner party, as you know; invite all our friends, and prese
uick, warning flash
and defy them to pity me. Take up the soap-boiler's heiress by all means, but, powerful as you are, I dou
nted Lady Helena, as she was driven home; "but, with Inez for my rival, I shouldn't care to
t was wonderful, the bitterest, stinging things she could say over and over again, in her slow, legato tones. She never spared. Her tongue was a two-edged sword, and the black deriding eyes looked pitilessly
kill me. Take me back to London, to Russell Sq
t, and riding over to Powyss Place
as reigned mistress so long," he said to himself. "I will never be able to hold up my
ess mockery of Miss Catheron's soft, scornful tones, the silent contempt and derision of her hard black eyes. What should she wear? how should she act? What if
Just put on one of your pretty dinner-dresses, a flower in your hair, and your pearls. Be your own si
f silvery blue, white lilies in her yellow hair, and pale p
ughter she might be, with the blood of many Dobbs in her veins, but no yo
es of crimson about her as usual, and rubies flashing here and there. She swept on to the carriage with
ron bore her humiliation. How would the one bear their scrutiny, the other their pity? But Miss Catheron, handsome, smiling, brilliant, came in among them with eyes that said: "Pity me if you
presented, and the stereotyped compliments of society were poured into her ear. Sir Victor was congratulated, sincerely by the men, with an under-current of pity and
let these peoples and Inez Catheron see, she was their equal in all things save birth. She talked, she laughed, she took captive half the
could be a greater success. All the men are in love with y
ter the gentlemen presently, and flirtations are resumed, tete-a-tetes in quiet comers recommenced, conversation becomes general. There is music. A certain Lord Verriker, the youngest man present, and the greatest in social status, monopolizes Lady Catheron. He leads her to the piano, and she
unceasingly. He talks a great deal, though not very brilliantly. He is telling her in an audible undertone how Jack Singleton of "Ours" has latel
ort, and having made money enough behind the counter, has retired. And poor Lieutenant Singleton has married the youngest Miss Potter! 'Whom the gods wish to destroy they first make mad.' A very charming girl no doubt, as sweet as the paternal treac
l Lord Verriker still hovering around her, has but one wild instinct, that of flight. Oh! to be away, from these merciless people-from that bitter, dagger-tongued Inez Catheron! She looks wildly at her h
s cousin, lies back in a corner, pale and mute. Inez Catheron's dauntless black eyes look up at the white, countless stars as she softly hums a tune. Sir Victor sits with his eyes
t-her cold, brief words, her averted face, her palpable shrinking as he approaches. She de
when, five minutes before dinner, Sir Victor and Miss Catheron meet in the dini
went half an hour ago. She had a book with her,
r Victor says, taking his hat; "
p last night; her head aches with a dull, sickening pain to-day. To be home once more-to be back in the cosy, common-place Russell square lodgings! If it were no
life have been spent beneath its roof; she will hate it before long. Her very love for her husband seems to die out in bitter contempt, as she thinks of last night, when he stood by and heard his cousin's sneering insult. The gloaming
ate sob, and unconsciously alo
r Victor Catheron because he was Sir Victor Catheron. But it isn't a marriage, my dear-you
terror, for there in the twilight before her
" she
ve tastes, and who has not set foot on British soil for two years? Not a jewel would she part with-all Sir Victor's presents, forsooth! And she's in love with Sir Victor, you know. Perhaps you don't know, though. 'Pon my life, she is, Ethel, and means to have him yet, too. That's what she says, and she is a girl to do as she says, is Inez. That's
nd outstretched. She shrank away,
ear me, Juan Catheron! How dare you i
omes to that, how dare you throw me over, and commit bigamy, and marry Sir Victor Catheron? It's of no use your ridi
lace instantly, I will call my husband. Oh!" she burst forth, f
asked Juan Catheron, folding
e I?-and if I had, I say I would n
easily convertible in London. Hand them here, or, by all the
n his power, and he will keep his threat. Speak one word of that vile lie, and your tongue will be silenced
l not give m
d! Do your worst!-you cannot make me more wretched than I am. And go, or I wil
ot give me
one is coming! Now you will see w
her, a dangerous gle
a husband-I'm going. You're a plucky little thing after all, Ethel. I don't k
d among the trees. He was a
ay fo
row fo
at to-morro
l was still; the twilight was closing darkne
"Am I never to be free from this brother and sister?" she cried to herself, des
Catheron emerged from the shadow of the trees, and the face,