Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1900-08-19
secret, so little did either dream that
the darkest hour was the hour before
CHAPTER XIV.


DdCh W HIS SUld, uOl lying uOWu, Dul
reclining against the pile of soft cush-
| ions she-and only she, he said-could
arrange exactly right. He noticed thai
on the gypsy table, which always
stood near MIN with flowers, she had
placed small handbag, which had
| teen in her hand when she came in
| dressed for luncheon. Now she drew
| up her own especial low chair beside
him and sat down. Il suppose" she
said, quietly, that you have-natu.
! rally enough-conjectured in your owl
mind as to what business Of mine II
could be that took me to town.
Something in her voice, manner. in
the atmosphere about her, too indefi.
mite to give a name to 1t, struck hin
vaguely as rather unusual, a sort O.
suppression, relief, triumph-which o.
what was 1t?
Ne" he said, 81 only hoped it wa.
nothing troublesome, and that if Il
were you would let me help you, as 3
friend Beyond that it was your affair
not mine"
1T would have had to be a very des-
perately urgent business of my own,
said Clare, slowly, "to make me leave
you just at this time; but it is not my
affair at all, save that it concerns the
vital interests Of the friend for whose
sake l went, and have ventured to act
for up to certain point-yourself."
For mel" He was looking at her
with wide, wondering eyes. you went
for me, Clare? l don't understand. y
he ended, with that quick, panied knit
ting of the brows Clare knew so well.
She laid her soft hand over his.
"Wilfred, forgive me that l must
speak of the miserable story you told
me so lately"
There is nothing possible that YOU
could say or do that could need my
forgiveness, he interrupted, quickly.
But she felt the CULVER that went
through him at even her tender touch
ing of such an open wound. GO on,
speak what you will
Thank you. For days after I heard
that story | was tormented by one of
those haunting memories we all know,
of something l had heard of Mrs. Dex-
ter, which vaguely l mixed with your
story. But at last, about four nights
ago, the full recollection suddenly
flashed into my mind like a ray OF
light. 1t was remark of Miss
Heath's, repeating Mrs. Dexter's an
swer after slight hesitation to a ques-
ton as to whether she had ever been
in England before. She replied: Yes,
long ago. For a spell with my uncle
Then | knew at once what it was I
missed out of your story of Arabella
Crewe. There was not the slightest
allusion to any such relative, even from
Gale; only her father appeared in it
her father. George Crewe, to whom
she wrote to ratify the engagement and
come to the marriage"
yes, he came as l told you and
signed the church register and copies
Of the certificate"
'As her father-her legitimate father
yes. And had she or you possession
of the certifcate?"
81 have" said Erleston, a curious
look of expectancy coming into the
dark eyes. She handed it to me in
the vestry. I have it still. of course"
q am glad. And you never heard
Arabella mention an uncle?"
Never, I don't suppose she had any
uncle just because she said she had to
Miss Heath. 1t was as false as her
SELF" he added bitterly
mo, said Clare, with an odd little
smile. For once the truth dropped
out before she had time to think of a
falsehood. The instant I recalled Miss
Heath's words, a suspicion flashed upon
me as bare possibility which at once
set myself to find out. Were there two
or one individuals in these two sides of
the story? II two, which gave the wo-
man away? If one identity, what,
then, was this George Crewe to her
father, uncle, or perhaps neither-sent
for by her to keep UP the fiction of her
legitimacy"
What matters one more deception
amidst such a foul mass of falseness?"
broke in Wilfred, with the bitter impa-
thence of despair.
1T matters great DEAL" said Clare,
with just enough significance to ar
rest him, as it were. drawing in a sharp
breath. Last evening found out and
saw the man myself-George Crewe-
and obtained absolute proof that my
utmost suspicious were true-that they
verified my widest hope of success.
George Crewe is Mabel Crewe's only
brother. Arabellas natural uncle, and
not her father, as he affirmed at the
marriage. 1t was a fraud and conspir-
acy between them, ignorant, of course
that that one, to them, fatal deception
made" She stopped abruptly, for
her hard-kept self control had all but