LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume III, Issue 253, 3 April 1875, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THE BOODLE ROMANCE. (From Tinsley's Magazine.) Chapter 111. ( Concluded) Boodle had deliberated as to whether he should tell Mari of his trust estate, and had at last decided that he would wait a little longer, until he saw whether Mari would love him as well in the grim reality of poverty as she had in the mere expectation of it. Boodle had, moreover, summed up the expense of his stay in Wales, and found it amounted to one hundred and fifty pounds, which was rather a large amount to be deducted from his one hundred per annum. Therefore Boodle determined to reduce his expenditure. . , . _ . _ ~ On their first arrival in London, Boodle and his wife had gone to a respectable but cheap inn, and after refreshing themselves, went to visit their future home. It was rather a large house, that belonged to Boodle himself, but by way of accounting for its magnitude, he told her that his employer had given it to them rent free. Mari thought it quite a delightful place, but suggested that a little furniture might be a slight improvement. „ . _ ‘Oh, decidedly, my love,’ replied Boodle; ‘ but it must be done cheaply at first, for we have been living far beyond our means of late, my dear. Now I will tell you what we will do. To-morrow I must go to the office without fail, and so I will intrust to you the furnishing of our home. I have just fifty pounds, which I have saved for a long time with this express purpose in view. I will give it you, and you shall select the furniture yourself, and when I come home in the evening I will pass my judgment upon it. Now, what do you say, my little housekeeper?*

Mari laughed joyously, and said she would never know what to do with so much money, but at length said she would do her best upon two conditions: that he must not ask the price of anything (because she knew she would be cheated most shamefully), and that he must not see the house until it was furnished. Boodle promised; and getting the landlady of the inn to accompany Mari, he started off ostensibly to the office, but in reality to Monty Phipps’s chambers, where, after “ loafing” away the day, he returned to the inn. He found Mari quite tired out with the day’s exertions, but quite ready, nevertheless, to return with interest his badinage as to the quality and utility of the furniture. This went on for a week, and then Mari, with her pretty face wearing an air of great importance, told him that his house was furnished and ready for his inspection. ‘You must be very wearied, my dear,’ said Boodle; ‘ shall I call a cab?’ * Oh, dear, no,’ returned Mari, laughing merrily; ‘ you know that with only a hundred a year we should soon ruin ourselves at that rate.’ So they walked on until they reached the house. The door was opened by a pretty maid-servant in a coquettish cap trimmed with gay ribbons. Boodle was about to make some remark when astonishment struck him dumb. Instead of the plain deal stairs of a week before, they ascended a flight of Italian marble, with a graceful bronze railing, and covered with a rich Persian carpet. The drawing-room door must have cost treble the amount he gave to Mari, to say nothing of the pictures and grand piano within. Then they went to the dining-room, where a delightful little dinner was laid for two, but with glass and plate enough for a dozen. Then Mari leading the way, they went up to Mari’s own little boudoir, hung with lace that must have cost a little fortune, and Mari, seating herself in an easy chair, broke into a merry laugh. ‘Why, Mari,’ exclaimed Boodle, ‘whose house is this ?’ ‘ It must be yours,’ replied Mary, still laughing, ‘if you have not deceived me. Did you not tell me this was to be our home ?’ * Yes, the house,’ said Boodle ; ‘ but the pictures and plate and furniture ?’ ‘ Did you not tell me to furnish it, and promise to ask no questions as to the price ? Now, Freddy, it is a very bad beginning in life for a banker’s clerk’—and here she laughed more than ever—‘not to respect his word. I trust you will turn over a new leaf, and to strengthen your resolution, I would suggest your coming down to dinner.* Boodle could find out nothing more respecting it, for whenever he reverted to the subject, Mari would burst into a fit of laughter; so he started for the office very early next morning, and told Monty about the whole affair. ‘ Depend upon it,’ said that worthy, * that she is an heiress, and has had the same idea as yourself, and gone away to get rid of fortune-hunters, and to find some one to love herself and not her money. But if I were you, old boy, I would still let her think you were poor, and still go to the office daily until she asks you to resign your situation. Then tell your secret, and let the curtain fall upon a scene of married bliss.’ Boodle, thinking what a clever fellow Monty was, followed his advice, and let the matter rest as it was; but the time passed on and Mari said nothing about a resignation. They had occupied their fairy mansion for about three weeks, when one morning Boodle, coming down to breakfast, found a pile of letters on the breakfast table. Boodle was surprised at this, for he had given orders for all his letters to be addressed to Monty Phipps’s chambers. He sat down, and began leisurely opening them. ‘ Why, what the devil does this mean ? he exclaimed : ‘ upholsterers’ accounts, £3500; silversmith’s account, £3OOO ; pic-ture-dealer’s account, £BOOO. What can it all mean ? Is there no word of explanation ? Is there no word of explanation ? What ! “ Ordered by Mrs Boodle !” Why, Mari, did you order these ?’ ‘ Yes.’ replied Mari demurely, ‘ Well, upon my soul,’ said Boodle, rising in anger, * I think you might have consulted me before you did so. ’ Here Mari began to cry. ‘ I did not think you were such a brute, Fred,’ she sobbed, in injured tones, ‘as not to give me any more thanks than that for saving you all the trouble of furnishing the house. Indeed, Fred, I did not !’ ‘ Oh’ said Boodle sneeringly, ‘ so that is the secret of your furnishing my house ? I am much obliged to you, madam, I am sure. How much shall I pay you for your trouble ?’ The anger flashed into Mari’s eyes till she looked like a maddened serpent ready to spring ; but she only sobbed more bitterly than before. ‘ And I presume, madam,’ continued Boodle, * that in some underhand way you obtained information of the true extent of my property, and married me with the laudable desire of assisting me to get rid of it ?’ The anger woke up altogether in Man, and she started to her feet. ‘Forwhat other reason should you suppose ?’ she said, with a bitter laugh, that was half a cry of pain, ‘ Have you the insufferable vanity to suppose that I married you for your own sake ?’ Then, seeing how crestfallen he had grown, she went up to him and put her arms tenderly around his neck. *My dear old Freddy,’ she said, ‘ you can hardly think so meanlj of me as that. It was not until the day before we were married that I found out who you were, and resolved to punish you for your deceit. Are you very angry with me after all, Fred ?’ Boodle was not such a bear as to say yes, so he kissed her, paid the bills like a stoic, and never mentioned the matter again. But somehow or other, although Phipps and he were fast friends, the novel-dismssing meetings ceased altogether, and they both cam© to regard the practical teaching of romances in an entirely different light.