LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume II, Issue 128, 28 October 1874, Page 3

LITERATURE.

A FIGHT FOR A WIFE. Chapter 11. Continued. ' And the water-colors ?' said Mr Maurice, with something of a sneer. ' Where do you propose to get them about here ?' 'I brought them with me,' replied his rival, with a cex'tain majestic calm. ' Oh, do you paint, Mr Humphreys ?' Miss Mary said directly. ' No, Miss Newton, I don't. But I knew that you did, and so I brought the colors.' It was not for a second or two that any of us observedhow this unblushing personhad tripped. He had brought colors for her. But had he not vowed and sworn that he was never so surprised in his life as when he saw that carriage drive up to the door of the Complete Angler. ' Perhaps you brought with you the trout for which Miss Newton is to fish ?' said the younger man, with a ghastly grin on his face.

'Oh, dear, no. There are good trout about here.'

' Never saw any.' ' Perhaps not—not at the end of your own line, any way. But if you will take the trouble to look through Land and Water for April, 1873, you will find a description of a trout taken here which turned the scale at six pounds —there !' ' And the happy fisherman !' ' Was your humble servant.' Now, whether this was true or not, no one could say ; for files of Land and Water are not so common in the country as buttercups. The bold assertion, however, scored one for Mr Humphreys, and pretty nearly put the finishing touch to his rival's resentment and chagrin. We began to wonder when these two would rush at each other. ' Now, young people,' said the lady who looks after us all, ' don't keep lounging about the river-side, or you will get chilled. You must all go off for a short walk before bedtime, all except myself. I am going in "doors to unpack.' * In one moment the young darted forward. He would show Miss Newton the shortest way round to the road. Was it not a delightful evening for a stroll?—and how differently situated one was in the country. Humphreys and I walked after these two, and our light-hearted friend was most uncommonly morose. Sometimes he whistled ; but that form of gaiety sounded strangely in the silence of the evening. He had his eyes fixed on the two figures before him, and kept pretty close upon them. So very still and calm was the evening, that we could not but overhear what Miss Mary and her companion were talking about. Perhaps the silence and the strange twilight over the woods had somewhat impressed them ; but, at all events, they were speaking in rather a sad way of the occurrences of life, and of the fashion in which hopes sprang up only to be destroyed by a ruthless fate, and of the sympathy that was so valuable in healing these wounds, and that was so rarely to be met with. Young Maurice had a gentle and pleasant voice ; he was talking in an undertone ; these two, as they walked along together along the quiet country road, looked very like lovers. My companion whistled another bar of the Minstrel Boy, and then began to yawn. ' I think I shall go back and have a cigar before going to bed,' said he. ' Very well,' said I. ' But you don't mean to leave those two walking on by themselves?' said he, sharply. ' Why, that long-legged idiot would go stalking on to crack of doom—till he tumbled

over the edge of the world. Call him back. Does he want to drag the girl to the shores of the German Ocean ?' I called them ; they turned and met tis; and there was for a moment a little confusion. Mr Humphreys was equal to the occasion. He immediately said to her, ' Oh, Miss Newton, I want to tell you what you must do about to-morrow,' and then, before the poor girl knew where she was, he had walked her off, and deposited the wrathful and fuming Maurice with me. It was a pleasant walk back to the inn—one's companion being a young man whose chief desire was to despatch somebody or other on a voyage to another world. 'Now,' said Mr Humphreys to me that night, when he had had his second cigar, and mixed his parting glass, 'now that that spindle-shanked giraffe has gone to bed, I will tell you all that happened, as we came back this evening. By Jove, what a sweet and engaging creature that girl is ! "What a fine thing it would be to have to take her about always—to picture-exhibitions, you know, where your friends were, to dinnerparties, drums, and all that; and then, when you were tired, to take a run down to this quiet little spot and have a good time all by yourselves. She is a little taller than I am, to be sure—' ' I thought you were going to tell me a story.' ' Ah, yes. Well, no sooner had we started to walk home than I found that that milkfaced wisp of straw had been making the girl wretched by talking of troubles, and misfortunes, and the sympathy of unhappy people with each other. Now, you know, that ain't my line ; and I didn't see the fun of it; and says I to myself, ' Just let's see what this girl is really unhappy about!' You know, not one of you would tell me—' ' Surely it was not our business, even if we had known.' ' Well,' said I, ' dear Miss Newton, I hear you have been rather unhappy. She sighed at this. Then I went on to tell her that it was very impertinent of me to ask about her private affairs, but she must excuse the interest which I, in common with everybody else, felt in her; and would she tell me something of the young gentleman who was lost ?' 'Well,' said the attentive listener, "if cheek has any buoyance about it, there's no fear of your drowning.' ' Oh, my dear fellow,' remarked the complacent gentleman in gray, with a quiet grin on his face, ' I know how to treat one of your very sentimental girls. She told me* at once. He was her cousin. I said his being drowned must have been a great shock to her; and she said that was so, and yet she didn't seem to make much of it. So I said that people sometimes exaggerated the concern one ought to have in your relations ; and that there were cousins and cousins. She said that was true, almost in a cheerful voice ; and admitted that she did not know much about the young man. ' I suppose,' said I, ' that your relatives rather looked forward to your marrying him as a sort of family affair. You know what I mean.' She said that was so, too ; and added, ' Poor young man !' Now, I'll tell you honestly I had come by this time not to believe in the depth of her misery about the elegant young gentleman who was supposed to play Paul to her Virginia; and I ventured to hint as much. She was not offended. In fact, she grew quite lively, and was rather inclined to poke fun at my curiosity, which, she said, was the thing that Americans were blamed for. ' But what was he like ?' said I, wanting to see what she really felt about that hero of a sentimental past. Would you believe it—would you believe it, sir ! She never even saw him. Moreover it wasn't in coming to see her that he was drowned. Why, bless you, I laughed ; then she was hurt, and said that the drowning of anybody was not a thing to be ridiculed ; to which I assented with such eagerness that we immediately became very good friends again. Silent sorrows ! Why, sir, I will undertake to have her skipping about like a lamb in a couple of days? Regrets, and buried affections, and sympathy ?—you wont see much more of that sort of stuff! As for that two yards' length of attenuated dumpling, I will duck him in the river if he tries to stuff her head full of such trash - I will—l will indeed. Let that young man beware !' With this the truculent fellow tosses the end of his cigar into the fire-place, just as if he had been heaving his rival into the Thames, and then he went off determined to have a good sleep to prepare him for the great events of the morrow. Chapter lll.—The Challenge. Was she conscious of the internecine war which was raging in this peaceful spot, and of which she was obviously the cause ? We met the young lady next morning just as she was going down stairs to breakfast. She looked the very impersonation of all gentleness, and innocence, and good-nature. If angry passions were raging elsewhere, she, at least, preserved a cheerful serenity of mind.

Doubtless those two gentlemen had both got up very early, on the chance of having a little quiet talk with her if she happened to be taking the morning air. Doubtless, too, they had enjoyed each others society for an hour or two before breakfast; they were both looking rather impatient when we went down.

' Oh, Miss Newton, may I give you these flowers?' said the 3'ounger man, bringing forward a very pretty little nosegay of wild blossoms which he had culled himself from the meadows and hedge. 'Thank you very much,' said she, and he looked very pleased and proud. ' And thank you, too, Mr Humphreys, for the charming bouquet you sent me this morning. It was so kind of you.' Everybody stared; everybody except that stout and placid Machiavelli, on whose impassive face not even one smile of triumph appeared. But how had he contrived to get and send her a bouquet at such an hour ? He must have got the flowers over night. He must have lain in wait for the maid taking up hot water to Miss Newton's room, and bribed her to take the bouquet and a little message at the same time. Noav, a man whose attentions to a young lady begins before breakfast—who sends her a bouquet along with her hot water—means something serious. 'And now, Miss Newton,' said this bold person, already asserting a sort of guardianship over her, ' what are we to do to-day ? Shall we make up a party ? The morning is beautiful ; the chestnuts, the red hawthorn, the laburnums, all are most lovely ; and, as for the river, you will be delighted when you go outside.' Tobc continued.