LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume II, Issue 145, 19 November 1874, Page 3

LITERATURE.

LADY ESTHER,

By Mrs Forrester, Author of “From Olympus to Hades,” &c.

( Concluded .)

‘ Don’t !’ she cried, with a shiver of disgust, tearing herself out of his arms. He looked at her with sullen anger. ‘ It’s no use going on like this, my lady,” he said, in a bullying voice. ‘Anyone would think I was something loathsome from the way you behave to me.’ Esther was beside herself. She stood erect, very pale, and trembling a little. ‘ I think I have made a mistake all along, Mr Yalliant. I never cared for you, and I feci it is cpiite impossible I can marry you.” ‘ It’s no good saying that now,’ he answered savagely. ‘T on should have thought of all that "before. I’m not going to be made a fool of now for the finest lady that ever stepped.” “ Oh, Mr Yalliant, do not be hard upon me ! ” cried Esther, suppressing her disgust, and speaking in pleading tones. ‘ 1 have done you injustice in accepting you, since I never loved you ; surely, surely, you would not force me into a marriage that I am sure would neither be for your happiness nor mine.”

‘Look here, Lady Esther,’ cried Mr Yalliant, reddening with fear and anger : ‘ I’m not going to lie made a fine lady’s tool, and laughed at all over London. You’ve promised to marry me, and I’ve got your father’s consent, and if don’t marry me I’ll -’

Her sudden look of scorn prevented him finishing the sentence in the way he intended.

‘I do love you so much,’ lie said, in a cringing tone ; ‘it would break my heart not to have you now,’ ‘I beseech you to give me up,’ cried Esther, earnestly. ‘Y ou may tell the world what you choose. I promise never to contradict anything yon may say ou the subject. ’ _ . Mr Valliant turned quite white, and his knees shook. This brilliant alliance, on which he had built all Ids hopes, which was to bring him to a level with that society into which he so longed to thrust himself, was slipping from his grasp, fie had paid so dear ah eady for his coming honors, suffered so many humiliations, and was it all to go for nothing ? ~ . ‘ Oh, Lady Esther !’ he said, in quite a humble voice, “ I hope you won’t disappoint me now everything has gone so far. I’ll do anything you wish —you shall have it all your own way, and I won’t interfere with you—but don’t give me up.” ‘lt is impossible for me to marry you, ” cried Esther, distracted; “ indeed I should make you a very bad Avife, for I could not love you. ’ ‘ I don’t want you to love me,’ he ausAvered, excitedly.

‘You don’t?’ she uttered slowly, opening her eyes and gazing at him. ‘lt isn’t necessary, you know, in fashionable life,’ said Mr Valliant, with an uneasy smile.

1 Oh !’ said Esther, coolly, drawing a long breath. ‘ Then, since your affections are not concerned, you make my position less difficult. ’ At this moment Lord Gladesham and Mr St Sylvan were seen approaching. ‘ 1 shall appeal to the earl’s sense of honor,’ cried the enraged lover, and with great trepidation Esther saw him walk forward to meet her father. Chapter VII. That evening there was a terrible scene at Gladesham Park. The earl sent for Lady Esther, and threatened, if she did not marry Mr Valliant, to banish her from home, and never see her face again. He spoke with great anger of the disgrace she would bring upon her family, of the necessity of marrying a rich man, and against his violence Esther pleaded in vain. Her mother reproached her, Desmond stormed, and Lady Maddalene sneered at her ; between them all the poor girl was nearly distracted. Then she wrote to Captain Loraiue:— ‘ Dear Vincent—l cannot marry this man'; my people are furious, and insist on the marriage, and I am beside myself with fear and disgust. Won’t you come to me ? ’ The weary days dragged on, but no answer came to her despairing appeal. Then she said bitterly to herself, •He no longer cares for me ; he wants to punish my heartlessness.’ Scornful, indifferent, Esther turned quite white and sick with watching for the letter that never came, and at last in her despair she yielded to the instances of those around her, and consented to let the hated marriage take place. It was the afternoon before the wedding, and she wandered for the last time down to the little brook that ran under the big trees in the park. She stood watching the bubling water as it swirled round the grey stones, not noting it, nor the blithe singing of the birds, nor the red sun shadows, nor the great golden fields of ripe corn that lay before her in the distance. Half in a dream, scarcely conscious, except of a tightening, painful clasp round her heart-strings, she stood, seeing no fairness in a scene so fair, no brightness in the glad sunshine, hearing no sweetness in the clear melody of the feathered minstrels. A heart out of tune jars the softest harmony ; eyes full of tears blur the fairest landscape. Presently she threw herself on the grass, sobbing as if her heart would break. ‘ Oh, Vincent ! won’t you come to me ?’ Over and over again, with a weary iterance, she repeated, ‘ Won’t you come to me ?’ But the long minutes dragged on, and there came no footfall on the grass, no answering voice to her despair. At last she rose to her feet, and took one long, lingering look at the water. ‘For the last time,’ she said, in a choked voice, with big tears rolling down her cheeks, ‘ good-bye, little brook !” Pale and heavy-lidded, she stood as if some spell chained her to that lingering farewell, and sapped her weary senses to all but the musical plashing of the swift water. She did not hear the quick tread of footsteps behind her until a hand clasped hers, and she turned with a violent start. ‘ Vincent!’ and in a moment his arms were round her, the heavy, blue-veined eyelids were kissed a thousand times, and Esther felt the quick, passionate beating of his heart against hers. ‘ My darling ! he said, in low, tremulous tones ; ‘to think I might have been too late !’

‘ Why were you so long in coming ?’ she whispered, ‘ I thought you meant to punish me. ’

‘lt was my mother’s fault; your letter came ten days ago, and she put it in her pocket to give me ; then my father had a second fit, and in the fright and confusion of the moment she forgot it, and only remembered to give it me this morning. I have been travelling ever since in a perfect agony lest I should be too late. ’ ‘ It is to be to-morrow,’ uttered Esther, in a low voice, ‘ Hover, by G —!’ swore Vincent, passionately. ‘He shall never have yon now. ’ “ But what can we do ?’ They wandered away together through the long glades of lime and chestnut, oak and elm, whispering low and earnestly as they went; and an hour later, when they parted lingeringly, with smiles and kisses, all the heaviness had vanished from Lady Esther’s eyes and heart, and she tripped back over the soft fragrant turf with steps as light and buoyant as those of any fairy queen of ancient story. Charter YIII. There was no wedding in Gladesham church the next day. In vain the villagers thronged the church porch; in vain the schoolmistress marshalled the little regiment that was to strew the bride’s path with flowers, emblematic of her life to come ; in vain the grand chariots of aristocratic neighbors rolled up to give additional lustre to a splendid pageant, and the ladies’ maids wandered about with blandishments and white favours ; and in vain the bridegroom arrayed himself in the lightest of light trousers and and the bluest of frock coats. I have not the courage to write of that awful day at Gladesham—scarcely to think of it—the rage, fury, surprise, dismay; the sneers, the tittering, the veiled laughter, and deprecating condolence that the disappointed wedding gave rise to. But though the marriage ceremony was not performed at Gladesham by the Bishop of and the Vicar of Suds-cum-Lawington, assisted by the Earl’s chaplain, there must have been a wedding somewhere, for two or three days later appeared in the Times this notice ; “On the 22nd of August, by special license, Captain Vincent Lorainc to Lady Esther St Sylvan, younger daughter of the Earl of Gladesham.’, The young couple went to Switzerland, and a happier pair never rode through the lovely passes or lingered on the blue lakes of that' lover’s fairyland. They were not punished, as they deserved to be, by poverty and disgust, for Sir Hubert Loraine, in reward for his youngest son’s devotion during his illness, sent him a most munificent cheque for the expenses of the lime de miel, and later on a complaisant old bachelor uncle, with a consideration hardly ever heard of out of a story-book, died, and left Captain Vincent a very handsome fortune. So the family forgave fihem, and they lived very happy ever afterwards —that is to say, up to the 22nd of last August, when 1 had the pleasure of dining with them to celebrate the 'first anniversary of their marriage.