The Secret Passage

woman, who modelled herself on the portraits of the late Mrs. Siddons. Peter, on the contrary, was a small, meek, light-haired, short-sighted man, who had never done anything in his unromantic l

ut living in such a mansion, and had purchased the property as a speculation, intending to sell it at a profit. But having fallen in with Mrs. Saxon, then a hard-up wid

circle, as a William Pitt in petticoats. She looked upon herself as the George Eliot of the twentieth century, and dated events from the time of her first success. "That happened before I became famous," she would say. "No, it was after I took the public by storm." And her immediate circl

ever done anything to speak of, none of them were famous in any wide sense, but they talked of art with a big "A," though what they meant was not clear even to themselves. So far as could be ascertained Art, with a big "A," was concerned with something which did not sell, save to a select circle. Mrs. Octagon's circle would have shuddered collectively and individually at the idea of writing anything interesting, likely to be enjoyed by the toilers of modern days. Whatever pictures, songs, books or plays were written by anyone who did not belong to "The Circle," these were

s, and had produced a book of weak verse. Juliet was fond of her brother, but she saw his faults and tried to correct them. She wished to make him more of a man and less of an artistic fraud, for the young man really did possess talents. But the hothouse atmosphere of "The Shrine of the Muses!" would have ruined anyone possessed of genius, unless he ha

nthroned - the word is not too strong - in an arm-chair, and Juliet was seated opposite to her turning over the leaves of a new novel produced by one of The Circle. It was beautifully printed and bound, and beautifully written in "precious" English, but its perusal did not seem to afford he

n a tragic manner, and in a kind of blank-verse w

night," said Juliet,

es with Cuthbert's face, no doubt

ut - about - my new dress," she finished, after v

about your dress when you should have b

ove me?" asked J

Mrs. Octagon, relapsing into prose. "He is Lord Caranby's heir, and will have a title

d Juliet quickly, "we quite understand one a

were otherwhere. Your eyes wandered constantly to the doo

orning. I believe he inten

ly more human. "Then I wish he would not call there," she said sha

or, lonely d

e, Lady Caranby would have been her proud title. As to dear," Mrs. Octagon shrugged her fine shoulders, "she is not a woman to win or retain love. Look at the company she keeps. Mr. Hale, her

iet, rising, and beginning to pace the ro

private reasons I have never visited Selina at that ridiculo

go," she said hurriedly, then added restlessly, "I wonde

e has called on yo

e window. Then she added, as though to escape further questioning, "I have se

s, which were as strongly marked as those of her

er without that," sai

re, Juliet. If Mrs. Herne had been brilliant

in that house. In fact, a word distinctly resembling "Bother!" escaped from her mouth. Howeve

aid, coming to the fire; "for I asked Aunt S

Mrs. Octagon tartly, "receiving a

uck me as being foreign herself. Aunt Selina has known her for three years, and she has

ur aunt told you a great deal ab

murmured. "In spite of her gray hair she looks quite young. She does not walk as

what matters the house of clay. But, as I was saying," she added hastily, not choosing to talk of her age, which was a tender

is quit

taking no notice, "I mistrust them. That Hale man looked as thou

Juliet turned even paler than she was. "

must use so vulgar an

on't und

ng to understand. But Selina lives in quite a lonely house, and has a lot of mon

ossing to the window, "you shou

a strange woman and keeps such strange company that she won't end in the usual way. You may be sure of th

, if that is what you think," she said sharply. "I want none of her

ert has enough to ju

amble," said J

gon. "I have heard rumors; it is

thing. I thought y

like to see you accept the Poet Arkwright,

s," rejoined Juliet tartly, "and as to Mr. Arkwright, I wou

cally from her throne. "Do not malign geni

that her husband hurried into the room with an evening paper in his hand. "My dear," he said, his

go on. There is nothing bad I don't ex

is

t, clasping her han

large fleshly woman, her fall shook the room. Then she burst into tears. "I never liked Selina," she sn

colors as a kind-hearted woman. Juliet hurried to her mother and took one of her hands. The elder woman starte

trying to suppress her emotion, "but this dr

Mrs. Octagon. "Peter," with sudden tartness, "why don't you give

Peter, reading from the newspaper, "the p

kille

tep-father could see to read more clearly. "Yes," she said in a firm

ecise, three, and she was found by her new parlor-maid dead in her chair, stabbed to the

Octagon weeping, "the usual lot. Mr

somewhat surprised,

odramatic again, now that the first shock was over. "One of those three

t was not Mr. Hale. He

dded, darting away at a tangent, "to think that last night you and Basil should have been witnesses of a m

, laying aside the paper. "Had I not better g

dreadful affair. Few people know that Selina was my sister, an

something," said

ut I don't want more publ

f our friends that Aunt

er mother, annoyed. "However, people soon for

hould not be ashamed of your sister. She m

? I have not seen Selina for over fifteen years. I hear nothing about her. She suddenly writes to me, asking if my dear children may call and see her - that was a year ago. You insisted that they sho

I have called nearly every month. We sometimes went and did not te

get what money she might leave," said Mrs. Octagon obstin

g in common," put

unpleasant fact, sir. And her death is worthy of her

you? Aunt Selina was

do. And between ourselves, I believe I know who killed her. Yes! You may loo