Chapter XXII.

Otago Witness, Issue 1853, 27 May 1887, Page 29

Chapter XXII.

The Street Brawl. &EYBR, was so surprised in my life! Never! If it had been any other man but Otway " so said Sir John, when, not for the first time by any means, he described the scene in his future; son-in-law's chambers to Miss Lambton. It was a very quiet evening in ', • Halkin street; the ladies had no engagement, Otway had made the fourth at dinner, and he was now with' Letty in the smaller drawing-room. She had been singing to him, and they wer[e now having what was for them quite, a, serious talk. • . "I went in," Sir John continued, "expecting to find my gentleman alone, and there he was with a , handsome woman, a monstrous handsome woman, dressed in black. 'And is she a specimen of your clients 1 ' I said to him as soon as she was gone. Then he told me who she was — the wife of Ogilvey, the millionaire. Otway knew her before she was married, and she had been in a muddle of some kind, and he has been helping her. He's as good a fellow as ever lived, and I wish Letty was a little fonder of him., .There are times when I think this marriage is a mistake, but if I say a word to her about breaking it off she flares up and asks me if she did not say yes with her eyes open ? But I say what is the use of a girl having her eyes open if her heart is. shut?"

Otway, as it happened, went home, that night as happy as a king. Letty had never been half so sweet or as kind, and during the first part of the evening she had neither teased nor snubbed him, and he had abstained from those demonstrations of affection she so unaffectedly disliked.

He told her all about Mrs Ogilvey's visit to his chambers, and of Sir John's sudden appearance, but Letty had had the story first hand from her father, so it fell rather fiat. " I tried very hard to do my part, and feel madly jealous, as the heroine of a book always does, when the handsome rival is found with her lover, but it was all to no use," Letty said. One of her hands was lying passive in Otway's clasp. "I, am afraid there must be something very wrong about me," she went on, *' or else I am very sensible, for I should not care if you had dozens of the handsomest and most fascinating women in England in your chambers every day, one after the other. I could see that papa was vexed with me. Such a noble opportunity for a scene, and I made nothing of it.' I have evidently no dramatic instinct."

"You know you need not be jealous of me ; that is the true' reason," said Otway, fondly. "But I do not know anything about it. You tell me so, and I take no trouble to put you to the test. But lam sure it is much better for people not to feel deeply. It seems to wear them out. There is Jack, now, I can see from his letters that he is terribly jealous of Amy. .It comes out in everything he says, poor dear, , and do you suppose it makes him happier ? " " But to love his wife makes him happier. I ,should be madly jealous of you if you gave me cause ; but still, I should be much happier than if I had never known you."

".Should you indeed ? I,think it is a great mistake to be wrapt up in^ any one," said this young and untried philosopher. " But I must tell you, candidly, that I think for a man of your experience (I suppose you have' experience) you make a great many mistakes about me. lam not going to tell you what they are, for I hope yuu will find them out for yourself some day. It is not for a 1 man to learn from a, foolish, ignorant girl! Oh, yes, I am both foolish and ignorant, but I know what I like."

"• "So do I," said Otway, raising the little hand he held and pressing it passionately to his lips. " I should like' life to be one long summer's day ; and I should like to ,lie at your feet and and look into your eyes and tell you how I loved you." , "But unless you chained me down you would' not get me to sit still to be worshipped in that ridiculous fashion," cried Letty. You might as well be that Pagan god who put on woman's clothes, and. spun the distaff T I would simply hate you if you were always lying about at my feet ! "

, But in spite of these very emphatic protests, she was more loving and tender that evening than he had ever known her, and he went back to his, bachelor flat,-, feeling that fate had been very kind to him. His had ,been a fairly smooth and prosperous life up to that time, but still he had never looked upon himself as either specially fortunate or specially happy ; and defining his position to himself in, actual words, he' might be said, during the past half-dozen years of his life, to be a man who was waiting for something to happen that, never happened, or trying to find something that was not to be found. " , He was not obliged to work for a living, but he qualified himself to work successfully ; and then, when he might have made a position for himself, and, perhaps, a name also, he suddenly stopped short and allowed others to get beipre him; others, he- said, who. wanted success more than he. •He was'nev. £ absolutely idle, for, bis mind i

was not a frivolous 1 one ;'afld<- moreover, %c was somewhat disposed to take life seriously ; he was neither decidedly of an imaginative ior poetical turn of mind,- nor 'yet wafr-.he . decidedly practical, 1 and he had an 1 uncom- - forteble trick of .wishing, that .things; that pleased and charmed him were useful as well. Hence, we may infer, that the was true artist. Had he been born poor he would probably have "done some excellent 1 work-in the world, and from his equable tempefr 'and genial manner, no one would have suspected him of not finding life inordinately agreeable, j How sweet it could be made by the' subtle magic, of a woman's eyes, he learned ;whe,n, yeilding to the- solicitations! .oia political friends (although 'he was by no , means an ardent politician bimself)when he consented to stand for Stoneshire in. the interest,* and met Letty. Brskine. >D * -"i 'Then he decided,' as many a 'sensible man had decided .before, Jthat he • had found his true mission in- lif e-i-the philosopher's • stone that turned everything bare and ignoble to gold I He would marry the woman he loved, if he could win her heart; have children about him— enter public , life, 1 , ifi another opportunity presented itself, and do as much in his generation as possible, . by. 'way of thank-ofiering, we may.suppose, for his great happiness. A low andpaltry ambition some would say, but. do not those! who aim Jow, sometimes hit the clouds?, • ■■','''. -• Philantrophyi tand the exercise* of it, as Otway had seen it, had not hitherto attracted . him, but it might be possible he thought, for him to strike out some method that would be free from all the objectionable cant and humbug that so disgusted him. But at present, all schemes and desires were in. abeyance, for he could not flatter himself that the foundation stone of his future happiness was laid, or in other words, i that Letty's heart was won; his patience, what might be called his subservient ■ devotion, seemed all thrown away, but still he perserved. On his way home that night he came suddenly and unexpectedly upon that.vulgar, brutal, and not uncommon sight in London, a street brawl 1 If he had gone direct to his flat in Members', Mansions he would have missed it; but, tempted by the extreme beauty the night, he passed his own door, and strolled on towards Westminster. He had just reached Broad Sanctuary when'the noise of angry voices reached him, and presently, at some distance in front, he saw a group of struggling men. , ' ' A faint cry for help rose distinctly, twice or thrice above the angry voices and ' the thud of blows I Otway began to run, and a young fellow who had been 'keeping pace with him, step for step, on the'other side 'of the street, set off too. But ■' before ■ they reached • the spot the brawl ' was over; 1 a cry of "police" had frightened the roughs, and they dispersed in all directions at full speed. ' But, as it happened, they were scared by a false alarm; there were no police visible, and Otway, and the young man, who had also been startled by the cries for help, halted breathless beside the prostrate, and apparently lifeless, body of a woman. " Poor creature ! Have' they killed her V said Otway. "The cowardly ruffians!" cried his companion. " I wish I had been up in time." . Something provincial in the youth's accent (he did not look more than one or two-and-twenty) struck Otway, and he looked up at him. " I am afraid," he said, 1 " you do not know j much of the London rough if you expect 'to find him anything but a coward." • , Then they stooped and examined the woman ; she was bleeding from a wound on the temple, and she had either fainted or been struck down insensible.

"We cannot do anything for her, poor creature, without help," said Otway. " And here comes two policemen at last," said his companion, "but I could carry her myself if I knew where to go to." When the woman had been taken to the nearest hospital, and the men who had seen the fight, and been first on- the spot, had given all the information in their power to the officials, they found themselves once more in the street together. , - •'.It is almost too late," said > Otway, "to ask you to come home with me for some refreshment, but my rooms are not far away." The young man thanked him, but declined. •• I must get back to my own diggings," he said. He took off his hat ; ruffled up his thick, fair brown hair, and Otway was struck by the remarkable beauty of his features, as well as by the grace and symmetry of his tall, robust figure. . . : ' *I am afraid she will die, poor soul !" he said, "and perhaps it is the best thing that can happen to her. She had a wedding ring on her finger, did you notice ?" " It was probably her husband who struck her," said Otway' "Good night," and he held out his hand. "I' did not catch your name just now in the police office,"' he added, "nor your address. My name is Otway, and I live in Members', Mansions, yictoria street." "And mine is Charles Rossitur, at your service. I am lodging in*Vauxhall Bridge road at present, but my home is at Stillingfort, in Stoneshife. Good night."