LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume I, Issue 59, 7 August 1874, Page 4

LITERATURE.

DENNY'S INTENTIONS. In Four Chapters. Continued. CHAPTER IV. The exuberant spirits in which Mr Blake had retired to rest didn't accompany him through the watches of the night. He rose with a great load of care upon his mind, for the future looked amazingly blank and dreary. He had lost his place at Hutton's, and he didn't know what to turn to. It was all very well to have some fun out of Denny. But he couldn't keep it up. He would see him to-day, and tell him that he had found out his fine intentions were all nonsense, and that for the future he should shape his course without any reference to Denny's paramount interest in his well-being. When he talked the matter over with his sister at breakfast, she advised him to try and make it up with Hutton, and go on for a while on the old terms. But this Charlie wouldn't hear of. ' It would be the same thiDg in the end,' he said, ' and, as I shall have to make a fresh start, I'd better make it at once,' He went off, therefore, to Silverbridge, with the intention of going to Hutton's office, drawing his pay, and taking away his old office-coat. As he reached the corner of the High street where the office stood, he saw Denny's pony-chair standing by the kerb, a small boy holding the pony's head. It was the same pony that he had seen fifteen years ago and more, just at the same place ; very gray now about the muzzle, and more obstinate and cantankerous than ever. Carlo the spaniel had been dead some years, and Denny had never replaced him. The sight of the pony and chair standing there at the corner brought vividly to his mind the incident in his schoolboy life that had first put into his head this stupid delusion about Denny's intentions. He couldn't help feeling that unwittingly he had permitted it to exert a baneful influence on his life. Well, he had got rid of it at last, and must make a fresh start. The chimes struck up their prelude to the hour, telling out their little parable with sweet reiteration. Was it something in the air that was soft and drowsy, and infected everything with a kind of indistinctness, that the chimes of Silverbridge should tinkle so slowly and lazily. They hung fire sometimes in the middle of the strain, as if the bells had dozed off, and the hammer were too sleepy to strike. Charlie yawned and rubbed his eyes involuntarily. Had he been asleep for fifteen years, and his life, was it all a dream ? There stood the pony-chair, and there was the familiar door, and, as he pulled the bell, it sprang open in the same soft mysterious way that had awed him as a boy. Perhaps he would find Denny inside ; that would save him a little trouble. 1 The governor wishes to speak to you at once,' said Marrables, with a kind of icy joy, pointing with the butt of his pen to the inner office. ' How are you, Charlie ? said Hutton, warmly, rising and shaking him by the hand, ' None the worse for your shaking, eh 1 You mustn't think anything of what I said last night. I was put out at something, and let off steam on you. Let things go on as before.' ' No, Mr Hutton,' said Charlie, shaking his head ; ' you only told me the truth last night, and opened my eyes. I'm not going to be a pensioner on you any longer ; and as for Denny' 'Why, Denny's been here this morning, and made a will in your favor, spoke of you in the highest terms, and desired me to inform you of it at once, and let you have a copy of the will, if you wished it. I told him I thought he'd made a very wise choice, for he's no relations of his own, and he hated his wife, who's been dead twenty years, like poison, and all her relations.' ' Ah, I know all about that, Mr Hutton, and I'll tell you how it happened.' But at that moment Mr Marrables put his head into the office, and cried out: 'Osir, have you heard about Mr Denny V When Denny left Mr Hutton's office, he walked up the High street withhis hands behind his back, musing and muttering to himself; ' Make the boy my heir, eh, a pretty thing indeed ; leave my money, that it's taken me all my life to get together, to a gay young spark like that. Ah, he'd just go on the same as any other of your country gents, dining late, and giving parties, and drinking wine. No thought then of old Denny, and how he got his money. Now, I want the place to be kept so as everybody will say : Ah, this is just how Denny would have gone on. I'd like the chap to be a bit harder than me too, so as people might say : Ah. we'd as lieve have old Denny back again, than go on with this here chap. Now, Joe Swickstcck, my poor wife's brother, never gave away a penny in his life, nor spent one unless he could see his way to get tuppence back ; he's the chap to keep the property together. Yes, Joe shall have it ; but I must keep Charlie and Hutton in the dark. It will be a good thing too for Blake. He'll marry Fanny Hutton on the strength of his expectations, and then Hutton will have to keep 'em,' and Charlie will be no expense to me to keep out of mischief. Oh, Denny's the chap to dodge 'em,' he finished with a chuckle. ' Now I'll go to Button and Sprid to see about the codicil.' The office of Button and Sprid was a good way up the High street, aud the entrance was reached by a short flight of wooden steps, leading to what had been originally the first-floor window of the house, which had been converted into the office entrance. Denny mounted it pretty briskly. Neither Button nor Sprid, however, was in attendance. Denny wasn't going to trust his business to any understrappers ; and finding that it might be some time before either of the partners returned, he determined to go and transact a little business at the mills aud then come back again. Hardly had he closed the office door when the clerk inside heard a great clatter on the stairs and the noise of a heavy fall. They ran out, and found that Denny was lying on his back, half on the stairs and half on the stone slab at the bottom. They went down aud picked him up ; but he only moved once aud whispered something that the man who supported his head thought was ' codicil.' Charlie Blake had walked into Hutton's office a pauper, he left it a wealthy man, with a life interest in the Manor farm, and thirty thousand pounds invested in the Silverbridge bank, besides stocks and shares, and odd investments scattered here and there. He didn't know for a long time

how much he really was worth ; for vouchers and securities kept cropping up in all kinds of unsuspected places. Charlie gave old Denny a handsome funeral, and put up a fine marble monument to him in the parish church. He never knew how very near a thing it was, his gain of this inheritance. Hutton, knowing Eenny as he did, when he heard of his visit to Button and Company, divined what his real purpose was ; and not till he found that Denny had transacted no business at their office that morning, did he feel quite sure of Charlie's good-fortune. After some negotiation with the Ecclesiastical Commissioners, Charlie succeeded in buying the reversion of the Manor farm, and built a new house on a pleasant slope overlooking the river and a stretch of wooded valley. Long before the house was finished, however, the bells of Silverbridge celebrated in joyous peals the double wedding of the Blakes and the Huttons. Charlie gave his sister a handsome portion on her marriage with Tom Blake, and Hutton settled a nice little sum on his daughter Fanny. Bob the pony was turned out to grass in the home paddock, for the rest of his life ; and the pony-chair was kept in the coachhouse as a memorial of Denny, and is often used to this day by the young Blakes, when the play at coach and horses in the stableyard. Now that Charles is rich, everybody speaks well of him ; he wins prizes at agricultural shows, takes the chair at public dinners, is an active magistrate, and energetic sportsman : and perhaps would be inclined to give himself airs, but for his sister Mary, who takes him down when he gets too important, and persists in reminding him that he is, after all, only a successful humbug—whereat Fanny Blake is vastly indignant.

GIVEN UNSOUGHT. [From "London Society."] Chapter I. On the 16th May, 1865, at half-past three in the afternoon, a young gentleman filled a short black pipe with tobacco, and vigorously smoked. Before the smoker stood an easel, and against the easel reclined an halffinished oil-painting ; for the smoker was a painter, and his name was Edward Graysbrook. The studio was picturesque ; numberless oil sketches covered the walls. A suit of imitation armour on one side frowned defiance to a statue of the Medici Venus on the other, who seemed in her turn to smile a challenge to the world to produce beauty equal to hers; three or four lay figures, attired in various costumes, stood in attitudes more or less imposing; a dais covered with red cloth lay in one corner, a bookstand in another. For the rest, the room presented the usual artistic negligence and disregard of order. Reclining on a couple of chairs, a cigar between his lips, there meditated a shrewd, intelligent-looking man, with a decided legal cut of whisker and forensic double eye-glass —a man of eight and twenty, or thereabouts, who when he spoke enunciated his opinions with that tone of authority and don't-try-to-bully-me-sir kind of air for which the junior bar of England is remaikable, and occasionally ridiculous. Puff—puff—puff. 'No good—l cannot get the face I want. What on earth am I to do for a Titania ?' quoth he of the brush. ' Leave her alone for a few days. You overwork yourself, dear boy. Drop your brush, wash your palette, turn your picture to the wall, and away with me.' ' Away with you, indeed ; yes—avaunt, quit my sight!—get thee behind me, •tempter,' answered the painter, laying down his brush and maulstick nevertheless, and throwing himself into an easy-chair. ' Now, as I shall not interrupt your genius, I will explain my visit,' exclaimed Thomas Lewis, 8.A., of the Outer Temple, Esq., Bar-rister-at-law. ' Know by these presents ' — and he drew out two blocks of boxwood from his brief-bag—'that you behold the most influential contributor to the new paper, " The Weekly Scalper." Here are the whereons to make your fortune as a caricaturist.' ' You are very good, Tom ; always looking after my interest,' ' Quite so; I am as good as a father to you. But to-night I intend to play the mother also, and to take you to a dance.' ' A dance !' ' Exactly—at the house of Cyrus Hodges, the great picture-dealer. An acquaintance with him would do you no harm—probably much good. I know them well enough to introduce you. You'll come 1 They live at Twickenham. We can sleep at Richmond, and take a pull on the river in the morning, which is precisely what you want.' The artist objected. He had forgotten his dancing, had not worn evening clothes for nearly a year ; besides, he must go on with his work. At all events, he hated balls—and at ten o'clock the same evening he entered the dancing room at The Cedars with his friend Lewis. 'By Jove, there she is!' he exclaimed suddenly, after being introduced to his host and hostess. ' Who ? Why, what on earth dc you mean ?' answered Lewis, alarmed. ' A face for my Titania. Who is the lady in light green ? If you know her, please introduce me.' ' Certainly, directly they have finished the lancers.' Five minutes afterwards, Ned was blushing and stammering before a tall, stately girl of some nineteen or twenty years—a girl of slim and graceful figure, black waving hair, and eyes of liquid fire. How he now regretted his want of savoirfaire ! Had he copied the movements of the gilded youth around, Edward Graysbrook would have lolled upon a sofa, stared the lady out of countenance, or talked of the boat-race or the Academy, which he had never visited, with the self-complacent jauntiness affected in Mabille, However, for his peace of mind, Ned was rarely thrown into the society of young or lovely women, with the exception of some half-dozen models ; consequently, when he most needed it, he lost his tongue, knew that he looked awkward, and wished himself at —St. John's Wood. The lady flirted her fan for a few seconds, then, with a glance at Ned, exclaimed, ' I know your name very well from Mr Lewis, and your paintings from my own eyes, Mr Graysbrook ; and since you exhibited that sketch at the Dudley, we have much wished to make the acquaintance of the artist.' And Miss Graham flashed another rocket from her eyes, and Ned's heart fluttered like a butterfly. To be Continued.