"A SECRET SORROW."
BY MRS MAY AGNES FLEMING.
Author of "A Mad Marriage," " Carried 2Jy Storm."
CHAPTER XV. (Continued.)
'Confound yon!' w-is his not over-
po ito salute on entering* 'I tbour-ht you were asleep, nv.d here you are look-
ins as cool as an iee-eream, afier having feepfc nic Imtanierizi; away at the door these iabt twenty minuies ortq, Couldn't you lot a fel'otr ia r"
'I didn't hear yon,' muttered Charley apologetically. 'Sit down,' ani Mr Sidney sliowd a chair towards him with big foot.
' How do you feel after last nigh^'a spree ?' inquired lha baronet, taking a aeat.
'Miserably, thank you; I'vjj boon Sdwad uj> here wish a confounded headache erer since,'lirissvered Char'ey. 'Ah my dear fellow, you're new at this sort of business ytfc. Wait till our mess hstvo had \ou in band for a while ; we'll make a capital feliow of you. 1 say, Charley, it's a shuine to keep such » strapping fellow as you are in tliat old hole, Tiinity Colle.e. Why don't you cut the whole affai r, and become one of us?'
' Can't do it, my dear fellovv—hav'u'n the ntedfu!,' said Charley! with a sigh. ' WhaS a tbins ii ia to want for money in this world,' said Sir Harry, philosophically;'such a fellow as you Eire, now, would be a trump, if you only had ths chink. I'm confoundedly short myself, and never.write to the governor (or a supply without getting a lecture as long as my arm in return. I wish some hriress would have ra?. I'd marry her if she were as u;!y as a Hottentot if she only had the cash.'
And the young officer threw himself back in his cb.air, unbuttoned his coat, stuck both his long legs before the fire, and sigke.J irofoundly.
Charley felt himself callled upon to offer consolation to his afflictad friend ; but not knowing what: to say, remarked, after a pause—
'I expected Fi-zgerald hero this morning ; it's a wonder he's not here before now.'
' Here he is,' exclaimed Sir Hary, as a loud rap came to the door. ' That's Maurice's rap ; I'd know ii among a thousand,' muttered Cuarlej ; then, raising his voice, he called, ' Come in.'
In answer to this summons, a tall, dashing, handsome fallow, dressed in the uniform of a dragoon, entered, and threw himssif into a chair uith v^ry lit: lo ceremony.
'Weil, Fitzgerald, what's the news this morning ?' inquired Charley.
' Faith, nothing, except that Mr Magee's coining up bere afier dinner to ask your intentions regarding his niecV answered the now-romer.
' Nonsense, Mau rice,'
•No nonsense about it, roan. Didn't you d nice a jig with her last night and ask her if she liked Englishmen? 1
' Well,and what if Idt !P' said Charley
* Upon my conscience, it's e;isy to take it! 1 replied the dragoon. 'Maybe, whea old Magae comos up bere, with a horss whip in one hand and a parson in the other, you'l be aikiog ' What then?' Faith, I'd like to see you.'
' Confound your impertinence!' exclaimed Charley. ' What the deuce do you mean?' ' Why, simply that you've talked the prettiest girl' in Doublin into a most deplorably attachment or you, 1 said Fitzgerald. ' Hand me that ci carcase, Charley.
Ah, my boy, good-looking fellows like you ought to bo careful how they flirt with pretty p,irls. Old Magee'll raise the mischief if you don't marry his neioa,'
'Let him sjo to Jorieho!' mattered Charley. 'Aqueer set you Irish are,' remarked Sir Ha-ry Dudloy; 'fighting, drinking, and lovemaking seem to be your sole occupifcion. Knock a man down one minute, and make np friends with him the next in a shebeen, smashiug skulls with a cudgel in a fair now, and when you see him again, dancing a jig wih sonn blaekhaired b?autj\ The whole country and us iuhabisanta ara to ma a perfect enigma.' 'And af ier all,'^si»id Fitz rera^, 'there's not another place in the world likn if.. I've beea freezing in Canada arid roasting in ludia, «nd I'vo never met a land I liked so well as the ' Gem of the Sea.'
' There i 9 some rem jrkably fine scenery in Galway,' said Sir Harry. ' I remember being particularly struck with 'ha romantic beaut}' of Gleadelough.' ' Yes,' said Fitzgerald, ' and our o'd ruins are part'cularly striking—rising in their grim decay, monuments of tho glory of the past agas, when Irelan i vv»s the island of saints. There is a'ways :i soothing air of repose about them, paiticu'arly fascinating after tlie no:se and tarmoii of cities ; Iho vary sun himsalt eeems to kiss them with—'
• What's that you're -ayint; ahou" kissing?' interrupted Charley, who lud paid no attention to tho beginniag of this rhapsody. ' Confound you ; ycuVe pule 1 me up short 1, and I was actually rising to tho sublima,' siid Fi!z^oci' rl. 'Hind mo that bottle, Charley," Who, 's in i' ?' 1 Capital sherry, my boy, sr.ii Charley, pushing it towards him. • I'll be hanged if it is not prim; !' said tho dragoon, smacking his lips. ' Upon my honour, Charley, my boy, I envy you. Nothing to do but.to make love to all Merrion-sqaare, if you iiko, aaJ no chance of being ordered a^vay on foreign service when yon least expect it.' • Still, a soldier's life is a glorious one.' said Dudley; ' and the ladies, especially Irish ones—henon bl^ss 'em—know the va'.ue of the red coat. I used to hear our fallows say Ira'and w >s the soldier's paradise, and lam fully convinced of v mw.' 1 Fai.h, I believe you !' said Fitzgerald, with such emphasis that a roar of laughter followed, ' Did I ever tell you of a little adventure I had myself ,once there in Galway.' ' No ; what was it ?' said both at once. Fitz c. aid dra'ned a glass of wine, and began— 'It's some three j ears a.40 that 1 belon :ed to the tenth mfan'.rt', bad luck to them. Such a regiuvnt as that I was never in before a set of loggerheads that never eot further than his fifth g!ass without being tipsy, and who'd no hi >re salute a pre iy air! th in they'd fight duel. Heaven knows what sin I'd committ d that I was doomed to belong to such a set; but any how it was ordained, and we w jre ordered off 10 Galway— a perfect paradise of a placs for a redcoat. Every niiht invitations were given to the other chaps ; bu would you b :heve it, they'd no more notice us than if we were a lot of hearse drivers—and small blame to them for it, for I'll be hanged if ever I kn?w such a slow set of blocvheads a? the tenth. Not one of the other corp3 would notice v.--either, but would laugh at us whenever they'd meet ua in the street. 'So matters continued for a while, until I was ready to shoot myself, to be rid of ennui. Nothing used to re ieve ' ray mindbutclimingeverymornin^ to th« top of a neighbouring hiu, and dei erina myself of a wholesale b'essiiv» upon the infernal tenth. I used to feel beter af t-r it; bur, Ilk alt the 0 tier consolations of li c, it don t last long.'
Here,o ercome by melancholy recollections, Fitzgerald sighed deeply, and drained another glass of Wine, Thru after a paus-e , lie resumed—
'At last, we heard one day tha' : ball vras to be given at the house of oik Mr Malone ; and, as usual, do notice wai
taken of us, though the other regiments were invited. Our fellowd heard it with iheir usual stupid difference ; but my patience beiDg quite worn out, I determined to go by hook or by crook. But how ?—ihat was ihe question. If I went uninvited and was discovered, I was pretty sure of b?ius? kicked out; and how to obiaiu an invie was a puzzle. ' In this di emraa I h(>d recourse to my man, Tim Magrah, ufellowae full of clever dcv crs and ingenuity as is's possible for an Irish valet to be—and tha!'s saying a good deal. Tim promised to do his best; and I, with the utmost confidence in his abi'ity waited the result with impatience. ' At last, ns evening approachad, and thet*|ur ofthe ball drew on, I bagen to lose pa'ieuce; and just as I was about giving up the thing in despair, in came Tim with a bundle as bis; as a knapsack slunjc over hia shoulder.
'Hurroj! Misthe" Maurice, we'rj in iha hoitfa o' luck. Sure I've hit on a beautiful plan,' say a I im, opening the bundle, and holding the contents up to view. ' Wh >(,'s this?" taid I, holding up somethiq^ 1 took to be a bag, gathered at the top."
' It's a petticoat, no less,' said Tim, 'and sutehere's another, for fear one wounldn't do ye.'
' What do you mean, you rascal?' said ', in rising angot; 'is id in peticoats lam to g,) to the ball? 1
'Troath, thin, ay ye don't, yer likely to stay a!) home/ said Tim; 'sorra one o' me knows how yer to go ar ye don't wear them.'
1 But how?'said I, completely at a loss; ' explain yourself, Tim.'
' Faix, that same's aisy done!' said Tim. ' After yo told me ye wanted to 40, 1 set to work cudgelling my brain to find some way; but so or a taste I seemed to get near it. At last, as I was goin' to give it op, who comes in bat Paddy Finn, a second cousin, a? my own by the mother's side. £0 we sits down to talk over ould times, and Paddy tells me he'd on'y arrived that morning from Cork, an' that he was a eiiachman with an old maid, who had a niece—a nephew I mane —in tho army, a great lighter entirely, and that this ovid lady was uoing to the ball tonight. So when I hears that, 'Tim,' says Ito myself,' here's a cbance for you now, and off I s'arts for the hotel where tho old mud was Ska axes my business, and I up an' telh her her nephew had fought a. jewel, and wasn't expected to lire—heaven forgive me for tel ing a lie! Och. murther, Misther Maurice darl'n,' ay ye'd hear the y-all the ou'd crayther let oub a» her whin she heard that. Ton my soul ye'd think she was shot. Up she gets, and gives orders to pack up an' sta rt immediately, and sure I watched her myself uoiu' afF. Arrah, may I nivir brathe ay I'm not a jaynus.'
' Well, bat, Tim,' said I, • what has all this to do with my going to the ball ?'
' Bad scran to ye!' says Tim, ' sure yer uncommon stupid to-night. Arrah, what's to binder ye from drestin' yerself up, and p: ssin' yourself ofi. for Miss Burke ? Devil a wan in &s»lway knows her, except, maybo, seeing her once or so, on' as she's mighty ta'l, they'll never know the difference.'
' At first, I hesitated a little, but finally yi ldinsr to Tim's lo^io, I allowed him to d es-i me in the garments -ha had borrowed for ihn occasion, Heaven preserve me from ever wearing petticoats a^ain! Every step I took Ineary tumbled 0 er my own head, A neac wiz, and a little black and red paint, completely mo'amor phased me, and I doubt if my own mother would hive known her dutiful son in the tall, dignified, rouged lady 1 then was.
4 Murdhor m' 'ouus!' says Tim, surveying me with aJmiraM'on, 'ay ye not a beauty, like Andy Sha's foal. Avye was only a trifle smaller about the waist, yed be the darlin' ail out. Don't be tlirampin' that way, as if yer wos en parade, and don't spake ten loud, nor make too hould, and there's no fear bat yell bs the belle to-night.'
(To be Continned.)
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Bibliographic details
Thames Star, Volume XXIX, Issue 8604, 8 March 1897, Page 1
Word Count
1,987"A SECRET SORROW." Thames Star, Volume XXIX, Issue 8604, 8 March 1897, Page 1
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