LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume I, Issue 19, 22 June 1874, Page 4

LITERATURE.

SIGHTED AT LAST. Continued. Chapter 11. THE INEVITABLE DILEMMA

A habitable, cheery, sociable little place the village was in truth, in spite of the smallness of its population, which seemed rather ridiculous when first faced by this stray man from a busy town and before a week was over Godfrey Brce had made so much use of ,his time that he had seen the inside of most of the cottages, and learnt from the lips of their feminine occupiers such budgets of domestic trials, such perplexing confidences of family histories, such volumes of details concerning all the children of every household, as set him often wondering what in the world men with large parishes could do if they had a proportionate increase of matters, to listen to. ■ • ■

But that was only his first week; before he knew how to manage properly,after A while he contrived to avoid such- floods of gossip and yet maintain his character as a kindly listener and good adviser. He made his call, too, at the squire’s, and saw the whole family—master, mistress, and four fat daughters, two like the father, two like the mother—all ready to welcome a young and gentlemanly man as a pleas.mt temporary change in place of the old invalid clergyman. The squire found out that the new-comer’s politics were all right—that is, something the same kind as his own—andj accepting him at once as the right kind of man, showed him his pictures, his kennels, and his favourite hunter, and asked his advice upon a much-vexed question of a footpath across the park ; finishing up with a hearty invitation to come in to lunch or dinner whenever he felt disposed to do so.

And he called at the retired officer’s, and listened with patience while his ill-used host set plainly before him how infamously he and his claims had been slighted and insulted by a Radical Government. j ‘ By Jove, sir,’ cried the wounded major (wounded in spirit, I mean), ‘ by Jove, if I hadn’t had the spirit of a lamb—if 1 hadn’t been brought to understand the—the duty of moderating your feelings when you are in the very devil of a temper—l beg your pardon, Mr Bree, I do indeed ! —and if I hadn’t felt it was altogether beneath me to take notice of such a blackguardly conspiracy, I should have shaken the service off in disgust and thrown up ray commission, and sent the Commander-in-Chicf a letter that would have made his ears tingle. Upon my word I should, sir. But I remembered—my late father was a clergyman—l remembered it is not always wise to get in a rage and do what you wish. A Christian and an officer has other duties. So I waited till I cooled down, and then sold my commission.’. ' The major wound up as the squire had done, by begging this excellent hew listener to drop in at six o’clock whenever he" wished for a homely dinner, and some one clse’s company besides his own. Lastly, he made his visit to Mr Darlington’s, postponing his call there from day to day for reasons scarcely intelligible to himself.

He was ushered into the same bright room of which he bad caught a glimpse a week before, met and welcomed by Miss Darlington herself, whose delicate beauty gained, as so many kinds of beauty do not, by being seen in broad daylight. A lovely complexion, clear large gray eyes that -smiled as brightly ns her lips, a perfect figure, and a soft sweet voice. >Shc needed no adjuncts of dress or personal adornment to enhance her many charms ; and either she was aware of this, or had other reasons for the noticeable simplicity of her attire, which seemed scarcely in keeping with the costliness of the furniture and ornaments of the room in which she was seated. At first the curate, -who was thoroughly accustomed to ladies’ society, was puzzled to know in what other particular, besides her charming face, she differed so much from most others of her sex ; but after a few visits at the Hall had brought before his eyes a considerable display of west-country fashionable attire, he became aware of Miss Darlington’s peculiarity, and set it down in his own mind as a piece of very pardonable vanity—an error, if error at all, in the right direction. The first few minutes of that morning’s call led the young man into an unknown land, where hitherto his steps had never strayed. I don’t mean that he fell headlong in love all in one brief half hour, or even for weeks suspected that he was in danger of doing so at all ; but dreams and longings for a home of his own henceforth troubled him as they had never done before ; a weariness and distatc of his old life came over him, and he began to think he never could go back to the pursuits and work he had been so loth to leave.

One more trifling circumstance struck him during that first interview—for he naturally paid more heed to manner than to dress—and noticed a slight but certain change in Miss Darlington’s manner from the moment her father entered the room.

The latter received Mr Bree with all possible courtesy, and detained him for nearly an hour in friendly conversation, explaining, rather unnecessarily, his own reasons for living in such a secluded part of the country ; 1 natural indolence, I must confess, and a genuine dislike to being elbowed about in the world then, gauging his visitor’s tastes and knowledge of matters, artistic, political, and social, rapidly and skillfully, he ended by congratulating himself on having a neighbor with so many similar tastes to his own, and expressing a hope 1 hat they might sec much of each other,

But during that hour Miss Darlington scarcely spoke, and when Godfrey Brcc looked towards her he fancied a shadow had come over her face—an anxious, slightly distressed look for which he could not account, which changed her curiously, making her look grave and older than her years. And as it was that morning, so it was ever afterwards. Apart from her father the curate always found her bright and cheerful, though perhaps less given to mirth than most girls of twenty ; but with Mr Darlington always subdued, always quiet; watching him with eager anticipation of his wishes or wants ; reading when she was bidden—he would have her read aloud for hours some days ; singing to him if he was so disposed; his devoted attendant during those hours when he was ill or fancied himself to be so ; and yet no one who watched her—as the curate soon delighted in doing—could fail to perceive that there was some false note in the harmony of the household, some slight invisible barrier between the love of this father and daughter. Meanwhile, as his acquaintance with the Darlingtous grew closer, the weeks were creeping on. The harvest was gathered-in far and.near, and the woods down the steep

hill-sides were glorious iu red and golden garments Letters from abroad told Godfrey Bree that MT Herbert, the rector, was slowly but surely regaining his health, and trusted to be able to resume his parish duties during the following summer ; ‘ and that means,’ thought Godfrey ruefully, ‘ that I shall be wanted hero no longer.! • That day the curate first faced a Very awkward question : ‘ Would Mr Darlington, with all his seeming friendliness, be disposed to give up his daughter to a man who had no better prospect for years to come than a curacy, or possibly a country grammar-school—who had no prospect, moreover, of-ever inheriting more than the Solitary thousand pounds he already possessed V The poor fellow took himself to task for his folly ; but'it was late in the day to do that/ Then he told himself he must see and master this quick-growing passion—which only; shows how ignorant he was on such matters ; and then, as if the very Fates fought against him, Mr Darlington met with some slight accident which kept him within doors, and he was constantly sending for the curate to dine or lunch with him ‘ out of pity.’ So the chains were riveted faster than ever as winter drew on apace.

Chapter 111. IN WORSE CONFUSION. One November afternoon an urgent message had gone across to the rectory . for Mr Bree to dine at the White .House ; so Mr Darlington’s cottage was called. ■ • Mr Bree had declined,to go,'half, glad .to be out of danger’s way for once— ‘ his lads were coming up to the night school, and he should be busy till eight o’clock.’ Upon which came another message that Mr Darlington would put olf dining till eight if Mr Bree would go then. So the over-persuaded curate gave in, and went something against his will.

Against his will for two reasons. First, he ..was . afraid of his secret escaping from him before he had well made up his mind what course he ought to take ; and next, because his more frequent intercourses with Mr Darlington had not strengthened his liking for that gentleman. At times such flashes of bitterness broke from him, such rough harsh speeches, as made one wonder what in the world was out with this man, who lived to all seeming in such wealth and comfort; and after such speeches, if they had happened at dinner, it was certain Mr Darlington attempted to raise his spirits by drinking freely of the wines which he used to boast were among the best in the country.

On this November evening Godfrey could see, the moment he entered the dining-room, that his’ host was in no particularly happy frame of mind.

He received his guest, however, with many expressions of welcome, and vented his illtemper on the dinner, which he declared had been spoiled in the cooking ; then, as though'ashamed-of so much fault-finding, he turned the conversation to descriptions of the Lake country, which he knew well,, and of which he spoke with such happy lluency, that it was difficult to believe him to be the same man who had sat grumbling at the head of his table a few minutes before.

Having achieved this point he suddenly subsided, and playing listlessly with a wineglass, begged to know whether Mr Bree had discovered any wonderful genius among the clodhoppers he was teaching, or what made the occupation so particularly engrossing. The young man coloured at the sneering tone, but answered with perfect good temper, that his puils were none of them very apt; but that he conceived it to be his duty to help them if they wished to learn.

‘ Well, every one to his taste,’ said Mr Darlington coldly. ‘ I suppose you are something like myself at time, driven to seek uncongenial companions rather than none at all, in such a dismal corner of the earth as this is—dismal, that is, when the fishing season is over,’ he added hurriedly, and Hushing slightly. Uncertain how to take such a speech, the curate was for answering hotly ; but at that instant he caught Emily Darlington’s glance frightened and entreating. The appeal from her was a delight to him, and for her sake he answered courteously : 1 Indeed, you would be surprised if you knew how much one gets interested in such unpromising pupils. I know the people here so well now, that Maybeck seems to me one of the most important spots of the earth, though I don’t happen to care for trout-nsh-ing. No, thank you, no more wine,’ 1 Happy you, if you can make yourself contented,’ responded his host; I to me it appears as though such drudgery as your evening’s work must be awfully uncongenial to a man like yourself, accustomed to something better—though in the same line T—this with another sneer.

(‘ 0 Emily,’ thought the curate, ‘if that man were any one but your father, I should not wait at his table to hear another such speech 1’) 1 Teaching is I my line,’ as you say,’ he answered ; ‘ and I like it it heartily. Perhaps you will excuse me for saying that I consider it as much my duty to teach the lads about here what little they are anxious to learn, as I should consider it my duty to fulfil any other trust committed to me honestly and fairly.’

‘l3ah! trust ?’. muttered Mr Darlington, and again the curate caught the daughter’s eye, glancing nervously towards him, as though imploring a change of conversation. So striking farther afield for a subject, he went on :

‘ I had a pupil once, live or six years ago, for whose sake I used often to wish myself a rich man, so that I could have pushed him on in the world. For so young a boy, he promised wonderfully well, and many a plan wc made to work him up and get him through Oxford or Cambridge. But it all came to nothing ; downright poverty forced his mother to take him from school ; somehow a berth was found for him in a ship that traded between here and China—he hated the sea, poor little chap ! And the other day I took up a stray newspaper for a minute, and the first thing I saw was that the Queen had gone down in the Chinese seas with poor Charlie Merlin and every other soul on board.’

‘Charlie’—it was Miss Darlington began speaking. Her father interrupted 'her harshly :

‘Eing the bell ! I—this glass is snapped,’ and he pushed the broken glass away. ‘ You need not remain, Emily, we shall be in the drawing-room presently ;’ but his voice as he spoke was unsteady, and his baud shook terribly as he poured out more wine. (To he continued.)