LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume II, Issue 124, 23 October 1874, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THE BITER BIT. By J. A. St. John Blythe. ( Continued ) * The comedy has turned into a tragedy, with a vengeance,’ Fitgerald said. ‘I wish I’d taken your advice, and had nothing to do with it. ’ We turned in at the gate almost as he spoke. It was a very pretty place, though I did not .-notice that at the moment; a goodsized, comfortable house, with a garden, remarkably well laid out, and kept in splendid order. A nondescript sort of person, who might have been either a house-keeper or companion, met us in the hall, and led the way to a room on the ground-floor; saying : ‘ We’ve had a bed brought in here, sir ; and we’ll soon fit the room up properly. Miss Fairleigh thought Captain Berrington had better he kept on the ground-floor. ‘Then Miss Fairleigh is a lady who thinks to remarkably good purpose,’ I mentally ejaculated, as I entered the room. Poor Berrington was lying on the bed. He tried to smile as I entered, but it was a feeble attempt. He was evidently suffering horribly, and looked a sad contrast to what he had been when he rode out of the barrack square so few hours before. I proceeded to an immediate examination of the extent of the injuries. His thigh was fractured, hut, by some miracle, it had saved being compound. Below the knee his leg was terribly cut and bruised, but no bone was broken. Still, he had lost a great deal of blood, and received a tremendous shock. It could not fail to be, even under the most favorable circumstances, a long time before he could be moved safely, and I began to think the halting goddess was very near at hand.

He bore the setting of the leg, and all the dressings, like a Spartan, He was a plucky fellow, whatever he might be. But he was so utterly exhausted that I determined I would not leave him that night—which intention I expressed to the housekeeper, at the same time despatching Fitzgerald in search of various things which would, I thought, be required. The housekeeper in the meanwhile disappeared, but soon after Fitzgerald was gone she re-entered the room. ‘ Can you leave Captain Berrington for a few moments, sir ?’ she asked.

‘ Certainly. ’ ‘ Then Miss Fairleigh would be glad to speak to you.’ ‘He must not be left alone, though,’ I said.

‘Oh no, sir. I’ll just show you to the drawing-room, and then I’ll stay here myself until you return.’ I followed her across the hall, and, opening a door nearly opposite, she ushered _ me into the presence of ‘ the yellow-haired ladye. ’ Chapter IV. Miss Fairleigh was standing by a table, evidently expecting my entrance. I think, as a general rule, if there is anything remarkable about a woman it shows more strongly when she is on horseback than at any other time. In this instance it certainly was not so. Miss Fairleigh’s strong individuality was more distinctly visible in a drawing-room than when riding. Her hair was rather more elaborately dressed, and its wonderful colour and marvellous quantity more conspicuous in consequence ; it was slightly crimped, and the effect of the lights and shades upon it defies all description. Her face left upon me the same impression it had done the first time I saw it: it was irresistibly attractive, and yet with an attraction which was in some measure repellent. I noticed then, for the first time, that her eyes were yellow, as well as her hair. I don’t mean to say they were the same color, but they were the yellowest hazel eyes I ever saw. She was in slight mourning, and was faultlessly though plainly dressed.

‘This is a terrible accident,’ she said, the moment I entered. ‘ I wanted so much to see you, that I might know your opinion of Captain Berrington, I fear he is dreadfully injured ?’ ‘ He has got off almost better than I hoped when I first heard what had happened ; still, the injury is very serious, and I fear, Miss Fairleigh, it will be a long time before he can be moved.’

‘So I should imagine. But I hope you don’t feel any uneasiness on that account. It is a long distance for you, certainly ; but rest assured nothing shall be spared that can contribute to Captain Berrington s comfort and advantage. ’

‘ I was not thinking of that, but you. I fear this is rather an awkward position of affairs for you. ’ ‘Oh dear no,’ she said, with rather a strange smile ; ‘ I am fortunate in having such a duenna as Mrs Marshall—our housekeeper. She will, of course, look after Captain Berrington entirely. You must think only of him. And, indeed, I feel we owe him every reparation in our power. But for the carelessness of one of our men that heap of stones would not have been left in the lane. There was only one thing I was going to ask you ; can you send a really competent nurse to take charge of Captain Berrington ?’

‘.Certainly ; I will make a point of finding one to-morrow.’

* Thank you ; I shall be glad. Not but that we would willingly take any trouble ; but, you see, I cannot quite undertake to nurse him myself, and it would be rather too much for Marshall unaided.’

During all this colloquy I had been wondering where on earth Mr Fairleigh could be, and deciding that he must certainly be away from home. After a moment’s pause, however, Miss Fairleigh spoke again : ‘ You must wonder to find me so entirely alone here,’she said; ‘but I must tell you my father is quite an invalid —in some measure a mental one. Since my mother’s death, about three years since, he has sunk into a morbid state, which makes him so averse to seeing a strange face that he has shut himself up entirely. In fact, the great inducement to him to take this house was there being a small suite of rooms at the back, entirely shut off from the rest of the house, opening into a little private garden. He is passionately fond of gardening, and there he spends his whole time, never seeing a soul save Marshall and myself. You will never sea him. In fact, he will not know Captain Berrington is in the house.’ ‘ Then Heaven grant you may be well able to take care of yourself !’ I thought. Then I added aloud :

‘ I fear, in spite of your good-natured assurances to the contrary, all this must make the accident peculiarly inconvenient to you.’

‘ Not in the least. But now I must not keep you longer from your patient. Marshall tells me you intend remaining here to-night.’ ‘Yes ; I should not like to leave him at present. ’ ‘ I am very glad you do not mean to do so. But you will venture, I hope, to leave him for a short time while you dine. Dinner will be ready in half an hour. ’ ‘ Thank you ; you are very kind. ’ ‘ I will send to you when dinner is ready. And you will let the housekeeper know what you wish Captain Berrington to have. If there is anything required which is not in the house, you have only to speak, and the groom will go off instantly on horseback. ’ Truly the ‘ ‘ yellow-haired ladye ” did things in a regal manner. I returned to Berrington’s room, issued my orders, and in half an hour was dining tetc-a-tetc with my hostess.

‘How strangely things do come to pass, don’t they ?’ she said, as we took our places at table. ‘lf you and I had each been told this morning that we should dine together this evening, I wonder which would have been most astonished ?’

‘I think you would,’ I incautiously remarked.

‘ Would you not have been surprised ?’ I saw I had blundered. I could not exactly admit how much I knew of the cause of the accident. She looked straight at me, with a quiet, questioning look, and I knew I had colored.

* I —l Well, I meant that I knew Captain Berrington intended riding in this direction to-day, and I have always feared that black mare of his would bring him to grief some day.’ ‘ Oh!’

It was all she said in answer, but I saw that peculiar gleam I had noticed before pass over her face.

‘ You will excuse me, I know,’ I said, rising the moment dinner was over. She made a slight motion of assent. ‘You know where the drawing room is,’ she said ; ‘ you will find me there if you wish to see me. I shall depend upon your letting Marshall know of anything you would like to have. ’

So we parted, aud I saw her no more that night. The next morning I succeeded in securing an efficient nurse, and left everything in train for Berrington. And truly he could not have been in better quarters, as far as his bodily comfort was concerned. A great deal of my time for many a long day after that was spent at Witham Lodge. Poor Berrington was in considerable danger for some days, and even after I could truly say he was beginning to mend, he needed constant watching. I naturally saw a great deal of Miss Fairleigh, and soon discovered that she was very clever, and highly accomplished. But she was incomprehensible. I could not say I liked her. Yet I believe I thought more about her than I had ever done about a woman in my life.

She was always most particular in her inquiries after Berrington ; but, until a month after the accident, I fancied that had been the limit of her attentions. Then I was undeceived. I did not generally see him until after luncheon ; but one morning I happened to go over early, and was sitting talking to him, when the door quietly opened, and Miss Fairleigh herself entered, carrying a basket of magnificent hot-house dowers, She started at seeing me, and colored.

‘ Oh, Dr Haddon ! I beg your pardon,’ she said. ‘ I did not know you were here. I thought it was to Marshall Captain Berrington was speaking. ’ ‘ Pray don't go,’ I said. ‘My professional duties are all over. I was merely chatting to my patient.’ She still hesitated. Then she said, * One moment—l will just call Marshall to take away those flowers ; they look rather faded.’ She summoned the housekeeper, and kept her in the room while she arranged her ffowers, talking calmly to Berrington aud me as she did so. Then, as she left the room, I saw her give a quick glance round, as if to see that everything was right. I had been furtively watching Berrington. I saw his eye brighten and his color deepen as she entered, and I don’t think he ever took his eyes off her for a moment while she stayed. ‘ Isn’t she a splendid creature ?’ ho said, when we were alone. ‘ I never saw a woman the least like her.’ ‘Nor I.’

‘ She conies to see me every morning,’he said, ‘ just once. Then I don’t see her again till the next morning. ’ I saw it all, and in spite of all I knew I felt sorry for him. Had he been strong and well I should only have smiled to see the stone he had set rolling recoiling upon himself. But, heartless profligate though I knew him to be, he was lying there before me weak and helpless as an infant, and terribly worn and wasted with all the suffering he had endured. Under such circumstances it is hard to preserve even a righteous indignation. His hour was come. The passions which I had always suspected were lurking somewhere had come to life. He had been first attracted, then piqued, now he loved in right good earnest. It might not be such a love as would have grown up in the breast of a good man, but it was such an one as would bring an awful vengeance on his head for all his sins, if it was unrequited, and I 'misdoubted Ida Fairleigh most entirely. To be continued ,