LITERATURE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 6312, 9 August 1888, Page 1

LITERATURE.

A BIT OF LACE.

(T'l.TFoi-.d,) The' retired cotton manufacturer, Mr Joseph Pulteney, of Lancashire had been at last given up as a confirmed bachelor, having far fitty-five years successfully eluded the traps of manoeuvring matrons and the blandidmionta of equally experienced daughters. He dwelt in comfortable solitude in a substantial house in Portman square, waa a member of two Conservative Clubs, and spent his days ia a respectable, orthodox, and monotonous fashion, honestly satisfied with himself, and scrupulously obsMvanfc of conventional rules and spotless integrity. He sometimes visited the scenes of his whilom successful labours, not unwilling to show himself to hia successors in the business aa a prosperous and successful citizen. On one of these occasions, his journey to Lancashire had a result a3 unexpected to others as it waa probably to himself. After an absence of eight weeks, he brought back to London a yonng wife, a vary young wife indeed. It seemed that in that short space of time he had seen, courted, "won, and married Phcebe Cosham, the fourth daughter of the Rector of Whittleflelds, a widowed clergyman, rich in olive-branche3, destitute in all else. She was a pretty, baby-faced girl, whose round, open eyes looked as innocent of guile aa her artless manner appeared unsophisticated and devoid of worldliness. Phcßbe Cosham, accompanied by her aunt, Miss Betsy Cosham, had been for a day's shopping to Preston, and chance brought them into the railway-carriage occupied by Mr Pulteney. The lively prattle of the maiden amused and interested the manufacturer j he recognised the elder lady as the sister of hia old acquaintance the Eector; claimed the privilege of introducing himself; and amused himself by drawing out the young girl, who for all her rustic innocence, was perfectly conscious of the effect of her charms on the " old gentleman." So good a use did Phoebe make of the opportunities afforded by Joseph Pulteney's subsequent visits to Whittleflelds Parsonage, that she brought her middle-aged admirer to a proposal in an incredibly short space of tim, and rather encouraged than otherwise hia suggestion that the marriage should take place at the earliest possible date. Tha night before the wedding-day she eat ap late with the sister next in age to herself, whose room under the eaves she! had alwayß shared. i "So you are happy in marrying Mr Pulteney?" said Susan, with dubious interrogation. " Have I not told'you fifty times that I like him quite well enough to be Jiis wi_e?*V answered Phcebe, without a shade of irritation. " Why, I would marry any man if he could give me lota of money, plenty of dresses and pretty things, and take me to live in London. lam so heartily sick of Whittlefield9, and of having to turn my dresses and retrim last year's hats." "Are not you afraid of becoming heartily sick of Mr Pulteney ?" said Susan. " I know J should — indeed, I am already," she added fervently, with uncompromising candour.

" Never mind, dear," anßwcred Phoabe, in nowise offended, "he will soon be off your hands, and you need nob come and see me in my new house in Portruan Bquare if you don't want to." "O, I don't mean that, of course," hastily replied Susan. " I shall make a point of visiting you j only I think I ought to tell you that Aunt Betsy thinks him close-fisted, and papa says ho is just a little vulgar." " He ia that," asaentad Phcabe placidly ; " but then, you know, we are a fastidious family, and Aunt Betsy ia such a stickler for form, and birth, and associations. But I shan't see much of him when I'm married ; and as long as I am ihe be3tdreaaed woman in London— which I mean to be — I don't care for the rest. Wliat's the odds, if you're happy?" 6he added with her bright, childlike laugh.

Serene in her virtuous resolutions, Phcebe laid herself down to Bleep for the last time in her narrow bed in the atticroom of WhittleQelds Kectory ; and the next morning, radiant in the bridal finery that had absorbed the scanty savings of the whole family, vowed serenely at the altar to love, honour, and obey Joseph Pulteney. The honeymoon justified Susan'a anticipations. It was wearisome in the extreme to the young bride 5 the bridegroom during the Scotch tour spared her no point of historical interest and natural beauty, while he seemed utterly impervious to tho attractions of cairngorms and Highland jewellery, upon which Phcebe spent rather an undue portion of her first instalment in pin-money. "However, like all thing 3 sublunary, the time allotted for the obbligato nuptial tour of the happy couple wa3 mercifully contracted to a fortnight, Mr Fulteney having alwayß intended to celebrate Christmas under hia own roof-tree j so that to her intense satis.action Mr 3 Pulteney saw herself installed in her new kingdom towards the middle of December.

She found the house, in spite of its heanncaa and formality, a sumptuous abode as contrasted with the shabby, straggling country parsonage, and revelled in the attendance of a pompous butler and two staid footmen. Mr Pulteney allowed her a maid, the undisputed use of the brougham and carriage-horses, and went so far as to advise her to get a few gowns for the forthcoming dinners he intended to give and tho gatherings to which he meant to take her. He never interfered with her movements between the. houra of twelve and seven, and several times took her to the theatres.

" lfc is just lovely/"* wrote Phcßbe to her Bister in those early days. " I hardly ever see Joseph ia the daytime, and ho sleeps in the evening when we are alone, which is not often. He brings some old fogey friends like himself to dinner, and ia very particular about tho cooking 1 ; but aa ho asked me not to interfere with the housekeeper I don't bother. I have bought and order all sorts of lovely things all over the place, and hardly know where to put my clothes when they come home. . . . It'a awfully nice to be a married woman, I can tell you." After Easter the bills for all the "lovely things*" began to drop in, and Mra Pulteney found to her dismay that she had not only spent the first quarter of her aliowanue, but owed aa much money as would swallow the four following ones. She would have been less disconcerted had not the bills fallen into her husband's hands. While she was still cogitating on ways and means she was summoned to Mr Pulteney's den, and treated to a ponderous but stern reprimand. He informed hi 3 wife that he had never been in debt, never would Buffer anyone belonging to | him to bo in debt; that his rule was ready mnuey, a golden rule which had made him rioh j that he would pay the bills now before him, but that he expected Phcebe nevor Rgain to be as foolishly prodigal and cßrel eSaly improvident, and to abstain from any purohases she could not pay across the counter, as he Bhould, with, triflinpr exceptions, keep back her pinmoney in the future to the amount of tho sums advancod by him. Phcobe pouted, shed a few tears, hesitated, aud, with feminine incautiousness, as soon a*i she saw her husband's brow relax, committed a seriouß mistake. " Now don't be angry, Joseph*" she said

coaxingly, " but you know tiie invitation to the big fancy ball at the Fergusons*' which you accepted. lam going as Mademoiselle de la Valliere— aaweet dress : I have got all by me except the lace ; it I must be really antique point for the body and sleeves. I sawalovely bit at Plush and | Mechlin's, bargained for it and they will i let me have the four yards quite cheap./ ! " What ia it worth?" i " Only seven guineas a yard, Joseph.-" " "Four timea seven, twenty-eigbt gaineas ! Preposterous ! Nothing of the kind ! Yonr Lavalleer body must do without lace ; if that don't suit you, do without Lavalleer ; and if that don't suit you, do without the fancy ball. No, no," he added, as Phcebe was about t_* protest ; " when Joseph Pulteney Bays a thing, J. P. Btands by it. No more drapery for the present, and no running up of bills, remember." Mrs Pulteney, with compressed lip and flashing eyes, rose and left the room without another word. By common consent the prettiest costume at the Fergusons' fancy ball three weeks later was young Mrs Pulteney's ; and the exquisite lace round the corsage of tho La Valliere gown excited the envy of women and the admiration of connoisseurs. Mr Pulteney looked upon his yonng wife approvingly, as his unconcions eye glanced over tho details of the costume, , and he waa about to compliment Phcebe upon having so easily managed without an expenditure of twenty-eight guineas, when, being a wise man, he prudently forbore to evoke unpleasant memories. (To be continued.)