The Monmouth inquirer., 1898-10-27
CHAPTER XIX

CHAPTER XIX
Lady Enrol dead" Marc exclaimed
placing the cup down in the saucer
with Gathering sound. When die
she die?"
This morning" Rose replied.
But how? Was it an accident?" he
asked, a foreboding of the truth thrust,
ing itself into his mind.
"No, Marc She died by her own
hand, after confessing to-that terri
BILE deed"
He left his chair, and took a few
PAGES up and down the room.
1t was the first he had heard of the
mornings tragedy.
As long as the daylight had lasted.
he had been working in his studio, and
news that had travelled so quickly to
Rosalie. had not reached him.
He had seen Gretchen in all her
beauty, and had been interested in
her. even to the extent OF loving her.
Her life had seemed so solitary, and
the passionate misery in her eyes had
appealed so strongly to his manhood.
And now she was dead
Hers had been the hand that had rob-
bed Sir Felix of his life.
The sacrifice she had made of her
self had been for gain of gold.
Marc paused in his restless pacing,
and stood beside his chair, gazing
down at the pale, pure face of the girl
he still looked upon as child.
Even in this moment, he could not
help contrasting her with Gretchen.
One had been like a dark. stormy
night, the other was as fair as day,
with the light of an unsullied soul
shining in her sweet eyes.
He could understand the thrill of
repugnance which had swept through
him, when last he had stood face to
face with Lady Enrol.
1t was well, he thought, that he had
outlived his mad infatuation for her;
that he had never by word or deed re-
vealed to her the love she had reused
in his breast
His face grew cold and stern, as he
remembered the mystery that had
surrounded the death of Sir Felix.
Marc did not doubt but that she
would have kept her terrible secret,
even though aaother had been accused
of the crime,
Tell me as much as you know OF
this affair" he said resting his hand
on the chair back 'sThe news must
have shocked you good deal, Rose
She shivered as she answered.
1T seemed so dreadful that she
should have been my fathers wife
that / should have seen her, and spok-
en- to her, not knowing her guilt.
Briefly, she told him all she had
learned from Mr.. Monckton; the scene
in the church, the wild confession OF
sin, and the death-wound seIf-inflicted
in moment of extremity.
What was that man to her, that she
should have stood between him and his
bride?' he asked, his face white and
set.
Il do not know" Rose answered.
"She called herself his wife; but her
words must have been the outcome OF
a frenzied mind. She could not have
been the wife of two men. /"
rs the will she produced the same
that was missing?"
"Yes; Mr. Monckton assured me
there is no room for doubt, where the
will is concerned. 1t all seems SC rer-
rible, l cannot bear to think OF it..
What could have been her motive in
marrying my father?"
Il expect she wanted money-and a
title.
What good were they to her?
Neither wealth nor title brought her
happiness
1T was risk" he responded. "She
could not have calculated on events
turning out as they did"
"She must have been mad" Rose
said. looking sadly into the fire. quite
mad"
There was method in her madness, ,
Marc retorted, muttering the words
half to himself. What was Mr..
Monckton's opinion
Il hardly know. He seemed to pity
her. He spoke less of her guilt than OF
her suffering"
''She is beyond earthly censure now,
Marc replied, in his gravest tone. III
is we'll to think OF her mercifully-"
After this. neither of them spoke foi
some moments.
In an absent-minded way, Rose pour
ed out asesh cup of tea for Marc.
He had resumed his seat. his elbow
resting on the table. his chin on his
hand, his gaze fixed upon the floor.
She was the first to break the silence
her glance wandering wistfully to hk
face.
Mare, did you meet her often at
Drayton Court?"
He gave slight start, and changed
his position, lifting his head, and
meeting her gaze.
II could not fail to meet her." he
replied, while we were under the same
roof But from the time of her mar
riage, saw very little of her"
did you think her beautiful"
Sometimes"
only sometimes?" Rose echoed.
opening her eyes wide. Was not she
always the same?"
He shook his head.
Il can scarcely explain myself" he
said. Hers was not a common type OF
beauty"
There was another pause.
Then Rose asked the question that
had been forming itself in her mind
during the last few seconds.
Did you ever make sketches of
herr"
mot in the sense Won mean. I