Vaughan of Balliol.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 5609, 21 August 1889, Page 4

Vaughan of Balliol.

[BY L. T. MEADE.] PART I.

When Tom Vaughan paid his first visit to Ireland, his friends said to him, " Whatever you do old man, don't lose your heart to an Irish girl." . Tom was the handsomest fellow in his college at Oxford, as steady as old Time, but very jolly and bright, and, as his chums said, not a bit atraiirht-laced. He worked hard for honors, and gained not a few ; he worked also just as hard for sport. He had dark eyes, a Grecian sort of head and profile, and a splendid figure. When measured, Tom stood six feet high; he was broad about the shoulders, but thin and athletic. His lips were beautifully cut, but they had a very determined expression—in short, he looked like a man who had not a weakness anywhere. " Tom won't lose his heart, bless him!" said his special frionds, Wilkins and Palgrave. "Did ever anyone know him do a foolish thing his life P although he's not stuck up, not a bit, he's good ; but he never forces bis goodness down other people's throats, and that's why he's so tolerable all round. Dear old Tom! bless him, and bring him safe back from Paddy's country!" Vaughan went to Ireland in the summer, stayed away for six weeks, and when ho returned to Oxford there was a very perceptible' change in him. To account for this change it will be necessary to know something of what ho did while ho was away. In a sleepy little town in the middle of Ireland, the arrival of a handsome young undergraduate from one of our Universities could not fail to make a sensation. The girls of the place were undisguisedly anxious to see him. They thought of their dresses, and put on their freshest ribbons, and looked at their fair, bright young faces in tho glass. Supposo ho was as handsome as people said, and suppose—supposo —tho girls had a thousand thoughts which they did not tell to anyone, not oven to their dearest friends.

Tom was supremely indifferent to all the people in the dull little town. He had come over to coach the squire's son for Eton. He was an Etonian himself, and was sinceroly anxious to do his pupil justice. He had really never fallen in love in his life, and was in no sense of tbe word a lady's man. He did not observe that the girls looked at him with interest when ho walked abroad, and nothing was further from his thoughts than that any girl could possibly be interested in him.

One day his hostess said, " I am going to introduce you to-night to somo of our local celebrities, Mr Vaughan. Miss Queen and ber niece, Miss Irwin, aro going to spend the evening with us; also our beauty, Alice Travers." "Mother," exclaimed young Hugh Geoffrey, the fnturo Etonian, " I cannot imagine why you always call Alice Travers beautiful. She is not to be named with Kitty Irwin—no, not to be named. You just tell me which girl you like best after to-night, Vaughan." Vaughan smiled slightly, and grumbled a little under his breath at the prospect of a dull evening spent indoors, instead of a dreary and delightful one fishing in tho little river Weir.

" I am no judge about girls," he said, " but Hugh and I will be sure to be in good time, Mrs Geoffrey." Alice Travers was twonty. Sho had not spent all her life in Bracksloy, and sho had been told by a good many people that she had. tho sweetest blue eyes, the fairest complexion, and the most perfect little faco in the world. Most of the lads at Braoksley had given their hearts to Alice, but sho did not care about any of them. She had once spent a soason in London, consequently she was vory calm and indifferent to tho entertainments which her native town could offer to her. When Mrs. Geoffrey asked her to spend the evening at tho hall to meet her son's Oxford tutor, Miss Queen and Miss Irwin, as well as a few other friends, Alico shrugged her shoulder.), and was not at all as excited as her chosen companions, Annie and Mary Wilde, could wish. " You're sure to win his heart, dear, and he is so handsome," said Mary with a slight sigh. " I saw him yesterday," continued Annie; "he was going down to the Weir to fish with Hugh Geoffrey. He's quite six feet high; his face is perfect—quite perfect, but I think I should be a little afraid of him. I'm almost glad I'm not going to-night; aren't ycu, Mary ?" "No, I am not," replied Mary, in a candid voice;" for though, of course, he would not take the smallest notice of me, I could get into a corner and watch him; I do so adore Grecian profiles, and they aro the most uncommon. '

" Shall I wear my white silk, dears, or my pink ?" here interposed Alice, " or that light grenadine, with the lace ruffles ? I may as well look nice. Not that it matters, for Mrs. Geoffrey's parties are always tho dullest affairs, but still, as you cay, an Oxford man knows when a girl is properly dressed."

" I don't think wo either of us made that remark," said Mary. But Annie hastened to add, " Wear the grenadine with tho lace ruffles, dear. You know you were in that dress whon poor Herbert Parker proposed to you, and you refused him. And surely you were in that dress when you met that grand hero in Loudon last season—tho man who looked so often at you, and who, you said, seemed to be sighing his soul away—whilo he gazed at you—although you were never introduced to him."

" Ah, you alludo to my Prince Beautiful," said Alice, with a little affected laugh. "Doyou know, girls, I have a eensation that I shall meet him again, and that he will bo my fate '< I wish yon could have seen him. His eyes seemed to look through and through me. I never encountered such a penetrating glance. I'll let you into a little bit of a secret, darlings; my heart has not been quite whole since—not quite. You'll never repeat this, will you, dears? Mary, you may have this rose if you like. It will freshen up your Sunday bonnet." "I don't wear a bonnet,' said Mary. " I havo a hat with brown ribbons ; that's my best." Sho left the roso lying on the floor, and, walking to the window, opened it, and stepped out on to the balcony. Sho felt cross and discontented, she did not know why; only it seemod to her that Alice Travers had everything. Walking briskly up the pretty little street came a girl in very simple attire. She had a baskot of violets on her arm, and her shady hat was pushed back from ber forehead.

" Kitty, Kitty," called out Mary, bonding over the balcony. Kitty stopped, and raised a pale little face, with grey eyes, to the window above her.

" Are you going to the Geoffreys' tonight, Kitty ?" called down Mary Wilde. " Yes, I believe so. I'm so glad. Aro you coming, Mary ?" " No, it's such a shame. I want to see him beyond words. Alice is going, and she'll bo in her very best. You put on the prettiest dreßS you've got, Kitty ; don't forget." Kitty laughed and nodded, and Mary went back to the drawing room, having slightly relieved her feelings. Kitty's prettiest dress was white and of country niako. She wore a band of black velvet round her Boft little throat, and another band kept her thick hair off her rather low forehead. She was quito a Httle country maid, unsophisticated and innocent; most anxious to see the handsome Oxford undergraduate, but not at all expecting him to notice her. Mrs Geoffrey's party was not quite so insignificant as Alice Travers had choßen to call it. She had invited one friend after another all during the day, and now quite a goodly number of people assembled in the cosy old-fashioned drawing room. K Kitty Irwin sat down near a deaf old iy and and discoursed with her about a knitting pattern. Kitty had long curling black lashes, and they looked very pretty as they rested against her pale cheeks, while she endeavored to set Miss Jenkins' knittiug straight. She was quite in the background, however, and could scarcely see Alice Travers as she chattered and raised her bright blue eyes to Vaughan's handsomo face. AHco'b chocks wore a brighter pink than usual, and her curved rosy lips were dimpling with smiles, and her little white pearls of teoth gleamed roguishly as she chattered and laughed to her heart's content.

" It is quite too wonderful, Mr. Vaughan, just to think wo should havo met again Wo. Do you remember Lady Palmer's ball, and that awful crush, and the hottest night of the season ? But need I ask ;of course you remember." Vaughan was a man of very few words. It was impossible for him not to admiro so fair and brilliant a face, and not to be more or less taken with words of such cmprcsaemenl.

" Were you at Lady Palmer's "f" he said. " Ah, yes, I think I romember seeing you before," and then he sat down beside the radiant little beauty, and condescended to talk to her.

" What are you staring at, Mr. Vaughan ? Excuse me, yon have such a, nay of Axing your gaze on one ; it is quite disconcerting. Are you looking at anyone, or at nothing, or has anything happend ?" Alice was speaking in a tone of somo pique, for Vaughan had oridently not heard the last few airy nothings with which she bad favored him. "i beg your pardon," he said, shaking himself a little, the dreamy look leaving his eyes, "bull—the»e is a face over there

which interests me; it - reminds me of I Wordsworth's Luoy—very tender, and with a great deal of expression. You know every one in the room, of course, Miss Travers. Who is that girl in white, with dark eyes P" Alice Travers never felt more cross in her life. Her London season, however, had taught her to a great extent the art of dissembling, and she answered in a cheerful voice: . . "You are looking at Kitty Irwin—she w a dear little thing. I would introduce you, but I know she will be leaving in a,iew moments. Her aunt, Miss Queen, always "I should like to know her ; so, if you will excuse | me, I will ask Mrs Geoffrey to introduce me even though she does leave early. . He left Miss Travers' Bide as he spoke, who olenohed her small dimpled hands with annoyance, and no longer called him Prince Beautiful. Miss Queen did not go home as early as usual that evening; and Kitty, standing by Vaughan's side, looked more animate than anyone had ever before seen her; faint—very faint—roses kept stealing into her cheeks, and new and wonderful lights filling her big grey eyes. Vaughan did not leave her for the remainder of the evening, and Alice went homo in the Worst of tempers in consequence. " I should not have oared a bit about him, or given him another thought," murmured the vindictive young beauty as she sought her couch that night. "I could have borne the fact that he certainly did not remember staring at me at Lady Palmer's ball, but I am not going to give him to Kitty. The idea of his leaving mo to talk to her, and to praise her, and to go on with such nonsense about her pretty face. Pretty, indeed ! About the plainest girl I know. Who was that he compared her to ? Wordsworth's Lucy ! Where's my Wordsworth? Oh, gone from the hookcaso, of course. Detestable old poet, I never could rend a word he wrote. If that Luoy of his were like Kitty, she could not have been much to look at—and yet how Mr Vaughan started at her ! Really, just as hard as he started at mo that evening in London. Well, I suppose it's a way he a got. But Kitty is not going to have btm ; not if I know the reason why." [TO BE CONTINUED.]