LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume III, Issue 200, 29 January 1875, Page 3

LITERATURE.

‘SO UNLADYLIKE.’

Of course the London season has its pleasures, and it is very nice to see the Continent ; but I am always extremely glad when October comes and we return home to Hetherington Hall—for the hall is home to me, and Sir Edward and Lady Hetherington are father and mother, despite all legal proofs which may be. adduced to show that I am only their niece. I don’t think that there can be a more delightful habitation under the sun than a well-appointed country house; and the hall is perfect. I always go all round the place the morning after my arrival, however bad the weather may be; and the dogs bark welcome, and only show a sense of their displeasure at the unkindness of deserting them for six months by putting dirty paws on one’s dress ; but they roll in the mud to such an extent during their manifestations of delight, that it’s quite impossible to pet them as much as they deserve for being so friendly and forgiving. Jack, the old pony I used to ride when a little girl, comes cantering up to the side of his paddock when he sees me; and though it may be apples, I think it’s affection. Of course one’s own horses have been doing duty in town, and are not quite strangers; but they turn round and ‘whinny,’ and seem very glad to see their mistress and to have some apples too, if Jack’s artful demonstrations of attachment have not made it impossible to leave him without giving him all that the little basket contained. The men about the place seem really glad to greet you, and the old women who reside in the neighbouring cottages shower blessings upon you to an extent that ought to render you comfortable for the remainder of your life, while the lodge-keeper’s wife, with maternal pride, produces her last new baby for your inspection—there invariably happens to have been a new one about three weeks before our return to Hetherington. Gentlemen seem to like coming down to the Hall; and, indeed, the place is well supplied with those magnets which attract them. There is excellent shooting two packs of hounds frequently meet in the neighbourhood, and uncle Edward is popular with every one. Perhaps it may be that the Meadshire air is so good, and that there is a chalybeate spring within eight miles of us, or perhaps it may be in some slight measure attributed to the presence of a pleasant set of men ; but there is always a considerable number of girls who are ‘ pleased to accept Lady Hetherington’s kinds invitation,’ and help me to entertain the party. Uncle Edward was a soldier; indeed the first definite recollection I have is of seeing him at the head of his regiment in glittering array—he was a Hussar—and looking as gallant a gentleman as any of the originals of the portraits which hang in the picturegallery; and that is the highest praise I can give, for the old Hetheringtons are the things 1 admire most on earth. 1 sit for hours and gaze at my special favourite, Sir Harry, who was killed at Naseby, and I feel assured that he went down to his death and looked on Cromwell’s troopers with the same frank insouciant smile with which he now looks down on me ; just as I know my own Guy would go and fight if need were; and if ever there was a likeness in this world between a person living now and a person who lived in ——, the year when the battle of Naseby —for I’m atraid I don’t quite remember when it was—that likeness is between Guy Wrey and Sir Harry Hetherington. I wonder whether Sir Harry’s heart was whole when he lightly rode off to fight for his king? I don’t thick that those bright eyes of his would have looked in vain for love if girls’ hearts then were like they are now, or that the smile on his handsome face was of the sort to meet refusal. Ah! as I look the tears come to my eyes to think that he, and so many great-hearted gentlemen like him, should have been sent out of this world, which was so pleasant to them, by traitorous, rebellious villiaus; and Guy says that some people want to put up a statue to Oliver Cromwell at Westminster, to perpetuate the memory of dreadful murder and horrid crime ! I know what I would say on the subject if I were Queen!

_ But I have lost uncle Edward. He has doffed his plumes and gold and glitter now; but hp<cannot get rid of his soldierly bearingt'&ad in hisgrayahootmg-

shave of whisker on his cheek. Of course he is a little different from the old Hetheringtons, who wore large wigs and were closely shaven, but it is the old face ; and though his eyes seem as if they could look through the wall, they are as kind and gentle and tender as a child’s, and are, indeed, the reflex of his heart.

If I had been intrusted with the duty of issuing invitations, I could not, on the whole, have made a better selection than aunt Hetherington’s ; but I wasn’t satisfied a bit, for there was one wanting—the scrap of leaven which would have leavened the whole party. You see I couldn’t very well say, * Please ask Guy Wrey to come down, because I sha’nt be happy unless he does,’ for it would have seemed so excessively bold; and besides Guy hadn’t said anything, or done anything—except be most provoking. Let me briefly introduce him, He was an artist—if ho was anything—by profession ; but he had written the most beautiful book, and I liked it so greatly that I wanted to see him very much, and when I met him, and he was introdneed to me, I extended my liking to the author.

Now if a man is always leaning over the rails in the Row at the hour mien a girl takes her morning canter; if, when gazing from the altitude of her box at the opera, she invariably sees his light-brown head in a stall below; if at picture-galleries, flowershows, morning concerts, &c., she is as certain to meet him as she is in the evening at different houses—be means something, and meaning something ought to say it. Of course, if Mr Wrey chose to—dear old Guy, I’m forgetting myself, and continuing the old strain of thought, which, as I may now admit, so frequently oppressed me. Well, the guests invited to Hetherington - had, with few exceptions, appeared. There were a few celebrities, and a general background of well dressed young men, with what I heard Captain Aymer describe as * a very fair show of young women but he was not there. Luckily, however, 1 had so much to do in acting as aunt Hetherington’s aide de-camp, and going round to neighboring friends, that I managed to avoid thinking very much about unpleasant things. Certainly croquet is not an exercise calculated to induce oblivion. Some people like it, I suppose, but personally I horn it in abhorrence; and therefore, when going to spend an afternoon at Oakleigh House, I was induced to take a mallet, I prepared myself for suffering; feeling sure that the game, played with a number of comparative etrangers, would not be sufficiently exciting to make me forget disagreeable subjects. v ‘ Will you join this set, dear Miss Hetherington?’ gushed Lucy Faulkner. 'lsn’t it delightful to have such charming weather? I feared my poor croquet things were all put by for months!’ I did not catch the name of the partner to whom she introduced me, and bowed, really without looking into his face; but directly I caught sight of his boots I knew it was Guy, for I should know the least bit of him anywhere. You may guess how quickly I looked up into his face then ! ‘ Ka-Miss Hetherington! ’ * Gu—Mr Wrey! ’ I said, only just check* ing myself in time, for he was Guy always when I thought of him, though of course I never called him so.

I did not tell him how surprised I waa to see him, because I could not, for he had said something about going abroad when last I had seen him.in town; and I did not like to confess, even to myself, how pleased I was, or by how many degrees my satisfaction waa increased when he presently said that he had seen Sir Edward, who had asked him to stay at the hall, and that he was coming next week. The whole aspect of the lawn changed at once, and I was obliged to confess that I had been very unjust to croquet, which waa an exceedingly interesting game. But I was not quite contented, or pleased either. Guy was everything that is polite and kind, but I did not think he waa acting quite fairly to me ; for although he had never said or hinted anything about liking me, I felt quite certain that he did. More than once m town I had caught his eyes fixed on me with such a sad expression that I had been perfectly happy for twenty-four hours afterwards ; and on this afternoon he had more than half said ‘ Kate’ when he saw me. No ! I was not satisfied about it a bit, for if I had not thought that he liked me first I should never have dreamed of liking him. However, I consoled myself as we drove home with the reflection that he would perhaps be more agreeable at the Hall. Tuesday came, and he came too, and soon settled down comfortably, finding several men he knew. He was, as usual, most kind; and on learning my admiration for Sir Harry’s picture, promised to make me a little copy of it, and passed nearly all his time in his gallery, hardly ever shooting, or riding with the riding-parties. I strolled out one day across the lawn, and on to the long grass terrace winch runs at the bottom of the grounds. At one end of it there is an old summer-house, the sides of which are made, according to tradition, of an old oaken bedstead in which Queen Elizabeth slept one night at Hetherington. This was a favorite resort of mine, and I went in to be alone and think of Guy, and his unkindness and indifference. It is not at all nice to speak about such things; but after the chances I had refused last season of brilliant establishments, all for Guy, it was hard that he didn’t seem to care, in spite of all the little things winch had made me think that he did care. I don’t like saying it a bit; but when a girl actually had a coronet laid at her feet—and a handsome good-tempered wearer there too—it’s a pity she should refuse them because she is stupid enough to think that some one else likes her.

I was just beginning to wonder whether any of the bygone Hetherington women had felt such a disagreeable twitching at the corners of their mouth without absolutely crying, when I heard voices near my summer house. I did not rise, thinking they would pass by; but instead of that the. speakers seated themselves on a low, dwarf, ivy-covered wall which bounded the terrace. One of them was Guy; and I was glad to notice that he spoke in a very melancholy tone and seemed unhappy.

‘ I wish I could persuade you to say, old fellow,’ said Captain Aymer, who was his companion. * Going now is like leaving the theatre at the end of the opening farce, or bolting away from the grand stand after the preliminary canter. There’s the ball at the Crawfords’ on Wednesday, shooting at the Earl’s on Friday, and next week Hetherington gives a dance; the hounds meet hare, and there’s the county ball, and all torts of thing#.’ Jb be S&Atimieii