LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume II, Issue 129, 29 October 1874, Page 3

LITERATURE.

A FIGHT FOB, A WIFE.

Chapter 111, Continued. Miss Newton made no answer, but looked to us, her proper guardions. ‘lam quite sure, Miss Newton,’ said Mr Maurice, in a sort of scornful way, * you’ll soon get heartily sick of sitting in a fisherman’s punt, doing nothing but watch some one else trying to catch fish that aren’t there. I don’t believe theySe even got here that wooden fish that the landlords in some places moor deep down in the water so as to get people to come and fish for it, I suppose you’ve heard that fisherman after fisherman comes in and swears the fish made a rush after his fly—more likely in the case of a wooden fish than of a real one, I should say. You’ve heard what Dr Johnson— ’ ‘You needn’t,’ said the elder lover, with a sudden fierceness— ‘ you needn’t take Miss Newton back to the time of Dr Johnson for pendantry, stupidity, and rudeness. There is plenty of all three going about in our day.’ Miss Newton looked alarmed, and gently said : ‘ I shouldn’t at all mind looking at some one fishing. I don’t know how it is done in English rivers.’ ‘Oh, thank you,’ said Mr Humphreys, getting quite cheerful again, ‘ but don’t you imagine we are going to victimise you. Oh, no ; biit what you must see, first of all, is the beautiful scenery about here. We can drive from here to the Duke of Sutherland’s place at Cliefden, then on to Maidenhead Bridge and Taplow, then on to Burnham Beeches, and back again another way. And I have a waggonette coming at eleven for you,’ And at eleven o’clock, sure enough there was the waggonette standing at the door, and the whole of us submissively went out as if we had been taken possession of by this indefatigable Government official. But how were we to sit ?

‘ I say, Maurice,’ Humphreys remarked, in a careless way, ‘ I think you said you knew the country about here ? ’ ‘ Oh, very well indeed, ’ said the unsuspecting victim ; ‘I know every inch of it.’

‘ Then perhaps you wouldn’t mind sitting besides the driver and telling him where he ought to take us ? Wouldn’t that be the best way, Miss Newton ? ’ To appeal to her—it was cruel. She said something very timidly in reply, and the young man, with black rage in his heart, got up beside the driver. When the ladies were not looking, Humphreys winked to me : but I could not encourage familiarity on the part of so unscrupulous a person. Our young friend had certainly a favorable opportunity that morning for making the acquaintance of certain sorts of our English scenery in their most charming aspects. We drove through pleasant country lanes, the hedge-banks of which were brilliant with spring-flowers ; we passed through tiny villages, and the cottage gardens were smothered in blossoms; we came upon glimpses of the blue river, flowing smoothly through rich meadows which were white with daisies ; and then, again, through an opening in the trees we could see the higher land beyond, with the Cliefden woods rich with the foliage of the early summer. Miss Mary was indeed delighted ; and the driving through the fresh air had brought a color to her cheeks and a light to her eyes which rendered her more than usually pretty. Then she was most friendly with Mr Humphreys ; for somehow or other he had put the notion into her head that all this was his doing, and she was grateful to him for every beautiful thing she saw. You would have thought he planted those red chestnut trees (300 years before) in anticipation of her coming. ‘And really, Miss Newton, you must not go away from England without seeing more of it. Why should yon go with your parents to Paris? Your other two sisters are quite sufficient society for them. Paris! It is the most miserable city of the world to spend

a holiday in. The white glare and heat of the streets will blind you. You will lose all the health you have acquired here, and begin to get headaches, and feel drowsy and disgusted with the whole of creation. Now, how long did you say your parents meant to stay in Paris before going back to America?’ ‘ Three months. ’

‘ Then.’ said he; promptly, ‘ you stay with our good friends here for that time. They will be delighted to have you, I know ; and by and by they will be going down into Surrey, where you will see quite another sort of scenery, and see something of our English country life. You will, won’t you?’ The audacity of this person was remarkable. Of course, we had to press Miss Mary to stay ; and, although we did so honestly, one generally wishes to have one’s oiler of hospitality proceed from one’s self. However, Mr Humphreys seemed calmly to ignore all such little prcdjudices. He told Miss Newton what she could expect by giving up the trip to Paris and staying with us. He gave her a description of Box Hill and Mickleham Downs, which would have been worthy of the poet Thompson, or of G eorge Robins, the auctioneer. The girl, of course, could not promise ; but she was evidently well inclined toward the proposal, and said she would sec what her parents said when they came back from Edinburgh. All this, be it observed, was overheard by the young man sitting up in front. What he thought of it can only be imagined, for he maintained a morose and rigid silence. ‘You see, my dear Miss Newton,’ remarked our gay young friend, * you must do unto others as you would be done by. Now I mean to give America three full months’— ‘ Oh, are you coming over ?’ the girl said, her whole face inadvertently lighting up. ‘Oh, yes,’ he answered, in his off-hand way, ‘ I have long proposed it. Now I shall do it—in the autumn. When do you say your papa will probably be going back ? ’ ‘About the beginning of September,’ she said ; and then she added, quite ungarcledly, ‘ and what a pleasant thing it would be if we happened to find you in the same steamer! ’

‘Well,’ said he, sagely, ‘I have generally found that a man should never leave such things to chance. It is better to play the good genius for yourself, Accordingly, I think that if you go over to America in the beginning of September, and if you would kindly let me know the name of the steamer, you may confidently reckon on finding me—you may call it by chance, if you like—among the passengers,’ ‘ Oh ! and we would introduce you to so many nice people—mamma would be most delighted to do so. But do you really mean to go over ? ’ ‘I give you my word of honor,’ said he, ‘ that if you will tell me what steamer you go back to America by, I shall go by that steamer too, and take a three months’ holiday in the States. Is that explicit; or shall I put the terms of the contract in writing ?’ Now, an extraordinary incident occurred at this moment. Humphreys, with an amiable smile on his face, suddenly called out:

* I say, Maurice, it must be uncommonly slow for you up here. Come on here, and I’ll change places with you,’ Could a more courteous offer have been made ? The young man refused sulkily. Then he was pressed; and at last" he consented. Mr Humphreys got up beside the driver, and presently we heard him begin to chaff that serious person in a fashion which brought many a smile to Miss Mary’s lips. She was evidently listening more to him than to us. We drove up and through the beautiful woods of Cliefden, the birds singing all around us, the white clouds sailing through the blue overhead. We drove on to Burnham Beeches, and there, in the midst of the forest, saw the great gnarled and twisted gray trunks, to which even the most imaginative of Londoners make pious pilgrimages. We drove back to Maidenhead Bridge, and had luncheon at the inn there, and went down to the river and wandered about for an hour; then we got into the waggonette again and set out for Marlow. All this time the most patient and winning efforts of the elder lady of our party were ineffectual in smoothing down the savage feelings of the young man who sat besides us. ‘ There is nothing,’ he said to Miss Mary, * which vexes me so much as a show of coarse joviality and flowery wit when one is in the midst of beautiful scenery. A day like this reminds you of many things you had half forgotten; and when these associations are present to the mind, painful and sad as many of them may be, it is not pleasant to be shocked by an impertinent jocularity. Don’t you think so ? ’ ‘ But why should a pretty piece of country make you sad ?’ she said, quite naturally and cheerfully. ‘lt ought to raise one’s spirits. ’ He said no more after that; and indeed a silent person is apt to be overlooked if he have four companions all sufficiently talkative.

When we got back to Marlow the ladies went indoors. We three strolled round to the meadows by the side of the river. I did not at all like the look of the young man’s face 5 there was mischief brooding. ‘ I suppose, ’ said he to me, in rather a loud and ostentatious fashion, ‘ that Miss Newton is under your care V ‘ She is for the present.’ ‘ And how do you like, ’ he continued, in the same loud fashion, ‘ her making an assignation to be accompanied to America by a gentleman who has only been casually introduced to her parents, and of whom neither she nor they know anything ? ’ ‘lf you mean me, young gentleman, ’ said his rival, ceasing to whistle Love’s Young Dream, ‘ I’d advise you to be a little more respectful. ’ ‘Age commands respect, certainly,’ said the younger man, with an unmistakable sneer.

‘Yes, and schoolboys, when they don’t show it, get whipped,’ remarked the other, beginning to whistle again. ‘ I’ll tell you what it is, exclaimed Maurice, turning fiercely round, ‘l’ll tell you what my opinion is, that a man who tries to entrap a young girl into a clandestine appointment, and without the knowledge of her parents, and he old enough to be her father, is no better than a cad —I said cad, sir.’

• Oh, did you ? Did you really ?’ said Mr Humphreys. Now, there is an operation which, in the vulgar tongue, is known as ‘ ballooning, ’ and which consists in seizing a person from behind by the collar of his coat and by another portion of his attix-e, and driving him

on before you. A person who is thus ‘ ballooned ’ is very helpless ; he may squtal, or use bad language, or try to kick, but on he must go. Well, no sooner had Mr Maurice uttered these last words than Mr Humphreys immediately laid hold of him in the manner above described, arid began to run him down the slope of the meadows to the side of the river. The younger man did squeal—with absolute rage ; he did rise bad language, and with might and main struggled to get free. His enemy —with a shout of derisive laughter which rang through the place—held him firm and drove him right down to the stream. The whole affair had taken place so quickly that there was no chance of interference, and it was all over in a second. For, as it happened, there was a log of wood lying concealed among the grass by the river’s side ; Maurice, tripping over it, stumbled and fell headlong into the water; while Humphreys, stumbling also, but having proper warning, fell, but managed to save himself from going into the stream. The next minute Maurice had scrambled out again through the rushes, dripping from head to heel, and trying to get his wet hair out of his eyes. His hat was quietly floating down the Thames. His rival stood firm. I fully expected to be the unwilling witness of a combat like that which the lover of Kirkconnell describes when, by the riverside, he drew his sword and hacked his rival ‘ in pieces sma. ’ But the young man was a wise young man ; and who can fight with one’s eyes blihded and one’s garments heavy with water ? ‘You shall hear from me within an hour,’ said he, ominously, as he made for the garden of the inn, by which way he had hoped to get in unperceived to the house. Then ensued a strange and wild scene. The elderly gentleman tossed his wideawake into the air. He caught it coming down, and kicked it a dozen yards out into the long grass. Then, with his hands in the air, he performed a savage dance of joy, snapping his fingers and calling out : To be continued.