LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume II, Issue 108, 5 October 1874, Page 3

LITERATURE.

SWEET NELLY HUNTINGDON.

By Mbs Forrester. AUTHOB OP ‘FROM OLYMPUS TO HADES,’ ETC,

Chapter I.

‘ They’re a bad lot, my dear, that’s what ihey are, and they say the young lord’s as wild as any of ’em 1’

‘ Why does papa hate them so, nurse, and why won’t he ever let their names be mentioned 7’

‘lt’s a long story, Miss Nelly, and it's been the same for the last five generations—a family quarrel ; but I suppose it ’ull die out with your papa, now he’s got no son to leave the old hatred to.’

1 But, nurse, were they all really so bad 7’

‘ Well, my dear, I don’t know ; we’ve all been taught to think so ever since we were children, and, of course, my father and grandfather took their master’s side, and hadn’t a good word for the Langholmes; but their own people stuck to ’em through thick and thin, and say a more generous high-sperrited family never breathed. They’ve always been rather a wild lot ; but then, dear, as the sayiu’ is, the old gentleman himself isn’t as black as he’s painted.’ ‘ But why did we quarrel with them? what began it all 7’ ‘ Well, dear, the first beginning was a bad one, and it never healed up, and so it’s gone on up to this very day.. Aud I must say the Langholmes have been willing to make it up, and the old lord would have been quite friendly, only your papa was set against it, and turned his back upon him before the whole hunting-field.’ ‘ But, nurse, I want to get at the story, and you won’t come to it,’ and pretty Nelly Huntingdon tapped a little impatient foot on the polished floor of the housekeeper’s room.

‘ My dear, I think your papa would be displeased with me if I was to tell you.’ 4 But papa won’t know.’ ‘ Well, Miss Nelly, you know that’s worse, to do things behind people’s backs you wouldn’t do to their faces.’

Miss Nelly peiched herself on the high wooden table in front of the latticed window, and craned her pretty neck out to pull a great cluster of the old-fashioned red rosea with open yellow centres that nodded over the trellis-work.

‘ Now,' she said, fastening them in front of her white dress, and swinging her little feet to and fro, 4 go on, nurse.’ “ It’s time for me to see to the jam,” cried Wilson (who acted as nurse and housekeeper), jumping up and bustling off into the kitchen. A pout came over Nelly’s mignonne white face, and presently she slipped down from her perch and tripped off into the big kitchen to see what was going on, A strong smell of preserves came down the long cool passage, and when the young lady went in on tiptoe through the open door, there stood Wilson in front of an enormous copper pan, stirring with a great spoon amongst the seething fruit. * Let me taste,’ said Nelly, going up softly behind, and making nurse jump at the unexpected sound. 4 There now, Miss Nelly, you’ve made me burn my fingers, and the kitchen’s no place for young ladies.’ 4 Now I’ve got so far, once in my life, I mean to stop and see all there is to be seen,’ said Miss Huntingdon, resolutely ; and with that she seated herself on the kitchen table, in her favorite attitude, and proceeded to take a survey. A great, lofty, airy apart* ment was the same kitchen, with wide windows looking on a great herb-garden, bordered by a warren, where you saw thousands of rabbits kicking up their frolicsome heels, and displaying their white brushes aa they scuttled along. All one side of the wall were great burnished copper pans and gleaming dish covers, with a rack full of plates enough to have dined a small regiment. On the dresser lay a great yellow bowl of peas, with a bunch of aromatic mint; and there were cucumbers and fresh green lettuces, and dishes of raspberries, and much store of garden-stuff. Cook had jealously retreated into the scullery ; she did not like any interference in her domain; but Wilson had made the jam for the last five-and-twenty years, and was not likely to give it in to cook now.

‘My dear, do mind where you set I ’ she said, turning a little testily to her nursling. ‘l’m sure the kitchen’s not a place for young ladies, ’specially a table, as you don't know what may hare been spilt upon.’ 4 It’s quite clean, you old fidget! ’ cried Nelly, rubbing her dainty fingers along the polished surface. * Why, I can nearly see my face in it. Give me some jam to taste.’

‘ I suppose you don’t want to burn your tongue, my dear 7 and it won’t be ready for ten minutes by the clock yet.’ ‘ I’ll keep watch over the time. Oh dear 1 what a tiresome, lagging old clock it is—tictic, tic-tic ; I believe it only goes one hour to four of any other in the house.” 1 Well now, Miss Nelly, if you only okkypied yourself a little more you wouldn’t find the time hang so heavy on your hands.’ 4 What could one possibly find to do this broiling afternoon f ’ 4 A roasting lire won’t help to make you cooler, my dear.’

* Oh ! of course you want me to go, you old crosspatch, and I shan’t. I shall wait till you have finished the jam, and poured it into every one of those white jars, and then L shall go back into the room with you and have tea and a nice thick slice of bread and jam, and you’ll tell me the story of the family feud.’ ‘ Well,’ said nurse, looking up, with the red light of the reflected strawberries shining on her comely face, 1 1 suppose you’ll have your own way, and I may as well agree to it first as last. You always was as obstinate as obstinate. And what will your papa say when he sees you don’t eat your dinner?’ ‘ But he won’t see—he never notices anything ; and I shall take everything on my plate, and I promise to eat lots of peas and raspberry tart.’ “ Much good they’ll do you, to be sure, responded Wilson, satirically. ‘ Well, it isn’t five yet, and there’s plenty of time to get another appetite by eight.’ So it was done as the young autocrat commanded, and presently she and nurse were back in the cool shady room, with its great oak presses, chatting over their tea. ‘ Now, nurse, for the story.’ Wilson stirred her tea, pursed up her mouth, and with contracted brow proceeded to ruminate as to the most approved fashion of commencing a story. To he continued,