Our Novelettes.

Western Star, Issue 1353, 11 May 1889, Page 1 (Supplement)

Our Novelettes.

OUR GA'EDEN WALL. Continued. Pixton took little comfort from the assurance, but doggedly set about packing his portmanteau. I was sorry that his visit should have such an unpropitiouß ending, the more so because I felt in some way responsible for the calamity which had befallen him. In my own mind I felt thatLettice was right; she was a superior girl, and scarcely likely to acoepb Pixton—still I was sorry for him. *1 fuppose her decision was final?' I suggested, on the evening of the refusal, as we tiok our farewell stroll in the garden. 'Yes, she was very decided,' answered Pixton shortly. » You would not care to try your fate again ? ' Pixfon made a hideous grimace, and answered — ' No, thank you.' ' There have been cases of misunderstanding, ' I went on thoughtfully, • where women hive said/ No,' and meant' Yes.' ' ' Have there ? ' asked Pixton doubtfully. ' Well, look here, oli fellow—l don't care to try a rain; but, if you, as a friend, could find out ' ' Done !, I exclaimed easterly. •It is not a pleasant commission; but I'll undertake it. We walked baok to the house ; and, leaving Pixton there, I made my way to Watch Cottage.

Miss Vine was in the drawing-room; she received me kindly, remarking that she was sorry her neice did not fancy my friend, but that it could not be helped. On my requesting an interview with Misa Lettice, she informnd me that the child was in the garden, and that I had better say my say quickly, and not worry her, as she had had worry enough for one day. So I was escorted by Miss Vine as far as the little laurel arch which led to the wilderness, and there left to introduce myself as best I might. Thfl sun was making the most of his last rays, gilding all nature with a golden kiss. Between the trees I caught sight in the distance of a light blue gown, and moved at once in that direction. The slight breeze which kept up a busy rustling among the ,leaves must have covered the sound of my footsteps, for I came close upon Lettice, before she suspeoted my presence. She was standing perfectly still, with her eyes fixed on the crimson sunset. I felt suddenly that my mission was an awkward one, that I had undertaken a strange task. ' Miss Lettice!' I said, in a low tone, not to startle her more than was absolutely nesessary. But I did startle her—she stretched out her hands with a kind of appealing gesure, and gave a little gasp. *I am sorry I frightened you!' I exclaimed eagerly. ' Oh, it does not 'matter !' she said, giving me her hand. 'lt was very silly of me to start; but I thought I was quite alone, and my thoughts were so—so ' * Far away ?' I suggested. 'No, no—not that,' she answered, then paused, and her face, as she turned, seemed to catch the crimson hue of the setting sun. ' May I speak to you ?' I asked, soarcely knowing how to begin my task, but feeling that I had best not waste time. ' Cf course,' she answered, laughing—' why not?' * But I mean seriously, quite seriously.' 'Certainly,' answered Lettice; but the corners of her mouth began to twitch, which disconcerted me. I oleared my throat. ' There comes a time in the life of most men when they think of settling down in life,' I began boldly—then paused. ' Yes ?' said Lettice. ' No, I don't mean that,' I corrected. 'There comes a time when a man, meeting a woman who excels all other women; feels——' I stopped again. ' What ? ' asked Lettice. ' That his whole future must depend upon that woman.'

Lattice nodded her head gravely; but still there was the merry twitching about her lips. ' Then he comeß and does the only thing left him to do—he asks that woman to be his wife,' I continued, warming with my subject, and dashing on in a kind of despair. ' And she—what does she do, Lettice ?' I asked, taking both her hands in mine and squeezing them in my eartnestness. 'lt depends a little on circumstances, I suppose,' answered Lettice confusedly. ' What was your answer to Pixton ?' I urged, taking a header into the heart of my subject. Lettice withdrew her hands and looked at me angrily.

' I should like to know what business that is of yours,' she answered. ' Since you are so far in Mr. Pixton'fl confidence, I don't doubt he will satisfy your curiosity.' Something in her manner, her tone of voice, her flashing eyes, brought back to sudden iife a flame which had been flickering within me for many a long day. i I forgot Pixton, I forgot my mission, I forgot everything, except the bright little witch before me. * Hang Pixton!' I exclaimed, with a feeling of animosity towards my injured friend. ' What answer would you give me ? ' ' What about?' asked Lettice demurely. I was always awkward at expressing myself n a crotchety point. • Will you sing to me all|your life ?' I asked, trying to recapture Lettice's hands, which h e had put behind her back. ' No, I certainly won't. Fancy the agony to my poor throat I' I was in no mood to stand nonsense—my old distrust was fast rising. ' Will you marry me—' Yes' or ' No' ?' I thundered. 'Pray don't scruple about hurting my feelings.' ' Are you quite sure you have any ?' asked Lettice saucily. My anger, my distrust were fully roused. I turned upon my heel and wulked away rapidly. Long before I reached the house however a hand was on my arm. ' Mr Smith, please—please don't be cross ! I did not mean,' pleaded Lettice, with a pale, wistful face.

' Oh, no—of course you did not mean ;' I repeated ironically. ' Good-bye, Mies Lettice.' ' Good bye ;' she sobbad, 'Oh,I wonder what I have said to make you so cross !' My heart softened ab once—she looked so like a sorrowful repentant child j and, after all, perhaps she was not so much to blame; so I tried to speak calmly. * Lettice, I believe I was hasty. If you can't make up your mind to have me——' ' But I never said I wouldn't,' interrupted a low voice.

The conversation which followed it is unnecessary to detail. Suffice it to say that I foun i myself exalted into a hero in the mind of the golden-haired Lettice, and that on the whole I rather liked it.

When I presented myself and my prospects to Miss Tine as her niece's suitor, she appeared surprised, having nude up her mind to welcome Pixton as a nephew. However, she sagely and with a grim kind of humour remarked—as with the matter of the ankle—that of course there

were two of us, and really it did not matter whioh. This was a point which might have been disputed by parties more intimately concerned. I broke the news 'gently to Pixton, feeling myself the meanest of mean fellows as I did so. ' It can't be helped,' siid that philosopher sadly, 'and I bear you no ill-will, old fellow. We started fair, I suppose; only I never guessed that you were in for the race.' I told him honestly that I had hardly known it myself until the goal was reaohed. My want of faith in woman had prevented me from acknowledging the state of my own feelings. We have been married for two years now, Lettice and I. My wife is the fairest, sweetest, and best of women. Pixton too is married. His wife is all very well in her way; but—bah!—she could not hold a candle to Lettice—and yet I suppose he is happy! Well, well, so the world wags; and we few of us marry our first love ! X. Y. Z. THE END.