LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IV, Issue 303, 2 June 1875, Page 3

LITERATURE.

SNOW-STAYED. In Two Chapters. chapter I. In his library sat Robert Hilton, engrossed in his books. The door opened very gently, and there entered a pleasant-looking old lady, enveloped in a crimson shawl. ' Why, you here, mother !' he exclaimed, rising hastily. ' I never expected to see you at this hour of the morning : it is hardly ten o'clock yet, and the day so bitterly cold, I thought you still in bed. ; 'I had letters, Robert,' she replied, as she took the easy-chair he placed for her near the bright fire. ' I am afraid I disturb you,' she began nervously, seeing the table spread with books of an abstruse kind. 'Don't think of it.' Though answering thus, he was rather discomposed, for his passion was books and research of all kinds ; and he pushed the|hair from his somewhat care-worn forehead, as he prepared to listen to the purport of his mother's visit, which, he argued, must be something unusual, to make an invalid as she was visit him so early. Referring to her basket, Mrs Hilton drew thence a letter, and said: ' From my old friend, Margaret, Mrs Cameron;' "and putting on her spectacles, she read aloud. ' Never mind the contents,' he interrupted, after she had read the first line, judging this by its many predecessors. * But, Robert, I want you to hear ; that is why I came,' she returned timidly. ' She says Helen, her daughter, you know, is coming, in a few days, to stay at Mount Farm, quite near us; and I thought it would look so odd if we don't ask her to visit us also, and—l came to consult you,' she hesitated. ' I think Margaret will expect it. I know you dislike visitors in the house, and have grown a confirmed bachelor;' she sighed; ' and lam only a poor invalid, not fit for much, so we are well matched, and can dispense with visitors. Still—if you would not mind for this once,' she pleaded. Robert Hilton saw trouble looming in the distance, as he listened to his mother's hesitating request. It was quite true all she had said ; he was a confirmed old bachelor, forty |years old ; Hand hated \the sight of women, rarely looking on the face of one but his poor old mother. No wonder she felt apologetic and doubtful about the success of her request, as she watched the nervous, somewhat disjointed looking figure of her tall lean son, whose sunken eyes had a troubled expression in them while she spoke. ' You would never see her but at mealtimes,' she continued, 'and that only for a few days, my dear, if you wouldn't mind. I would not suggest her coming : only, she is staying so very near, and is such a nice girl; so Margaret writes; though it is some years now since I saw her. She was fifteen then, and must be twenty now. Dear, dear, how time flies ! So long since I saw her; but then, Robert, that is your fault.' ' In what way ?'

• The only son of his mother, and she was a widow.' That is my history for years; I have only lived for you, my dear ; and if you didn't like visitors, I was content not to have them, though I should like to have seen my old friend Margaret and her child occasionally.' ' I know you have been very kind to my infirmities,' he replied ; and his heart smote him, as he remembered her life of sacrifice, and heard her timidly pleading for the small gratification in question. Still, the power of habit is strong, and. it was not without a great effort he determined to yield. ' Very well; ask her over, if you like,' he said with affected carelessness ; ' but only for three or four days, mind ;' and he turned with longing eyes to the open book which was waiting his perusal. ' Thank you; it is very good of you,' she said quite gratefully as she rose. ' I will leave you now, and write to Margaret to allow Helen to come to us.'

'Only for a few days, "he reminded, already regretting his permission ; otherwise, we may have her here for weeks, if you don't specify the time.' ' I think not,' returned Mrs Hilton with quiet dignity. ' Margaret is a well-bred woman, and her child, no doubt, takes after her.'

The old lady then rose and Robert Hilton returned to his studies ; and in the society of some fossil remains, which served as the subject of some learned paper he was preparing for one of the Quarterlies, he forgot the impending calamity, as his perverted mind regarded a visitor, and that a woman, furthermore a young woman, in his house. # * # * * *

Several days passed, and one bright frosty day, in the early part of January, a party of girls were amusing'jthemselves in the'drawing room of the Mount Farm. Helen Cameron, with her two old friends and school-fellows, Annie and Clara Narcot, formed the trio. Helen's best friend could not have called her pretty, while her worst would have found it impossible to call her plain. She was what is termed a nice girl, when one is pushed into a corner for a definition. She was agreeable, good-tempered, could talk pleasantly on most things, had a very fair figure, with a bright intelligent face, that refused to be catalogued as regular-featured|; with a complexion frequently tinged with deep rose, interspersed with freckles. Ah, poor Helen! I am afraid that last hit may tell against you ; but the portrait-painter must be faithful. She had, however, one grand point; her hair was beautiful, and fell in long wavy masses, like bright spun silk fresh from the cocoon, caught on either side by a comb which confined it to the back of her head ; beyond this there was no arranging. Nature did the rest,|with an admirable eye to effect. A servant entered while they were laughing and talking together, and handed Helen a note. ' From mamma's old friend, Mrs Hilton,' she said, as she broke the seal and read the contents. The Hiltons of the Firs; the people one hears of, but never sees,' remarked Clara Narcot. ' Mrs Hilton is an invalid, and her son a monk, from all accounts,' chimed Annie, while Helen was perusing her note, who soon exclaimed : ' What am I to do, or say ? How shall I ever get out of it ? Mrs Hilton has written to say, that mamma has accepted an invitation for me to spend a few days with her, as I am in the neighbourhood, and she hopes I'll fix an early day !' she cried with genuine dismay. Her announcement was received with a chorus of groans from the two girls. ' It is too bad of mamma to accept an invitation for me from such people. What was she thinking of ? She might just as well have asked me to spend a few days in a churchyard, as in such a house as that !' ' Yes,' said Clara, with a grimace ; ' there is not much amusement to be got out of that valley of dry bones ! Mr Hilton is a fossil, my dear : he has studied pre-Adamite man —and what do you call those ugly things with hideous long names ?—until he has converted himself into an antideluvian specimen of an implement for digging up his own discoveries ! Heaven preserve me from such awful men ! I like flesh and blood, not the world's |progress machines, as I call them. Why people must be for ever rummaging under ground for old bones, and such-like, I can't imagine !' * You must go, Helen,' said Annie ; * if it is only to keep us alive with your description when you come back.' ' Well, only for a couple of days,' stipulated Helen ruefully, as she sat down to answer the invitation. ' Of course, only for a couple of days ; we couldn't spare you for longer,' said Clara : ' there is the ball next week, you know. Just say we will drive you over to-morrow— Tuesday —and will fetch you again on Friday; that will give you just two clear days, which I expect you will find two too many.' ' The house is worth seeing, I am told,' broke in Annie. ' It is so old-fashioned, and full of all sorts of queer things —remains, and so forth.' * Have you ever seen Mr Hilton?' inquired Helen. ' We sometimes, but rarely, see him riding about ; but he hates women, and flees at the sight of one.—Doesn't he, Clara ?' ' Agreeable for me,' murmured Helen, as she sealed her note, and rang for the servant to send it to the Firs. ' I do so wish I were not going ; but there is no help for it, I suppose. I hope there are no ghosts or other miseries in the house beside the fossil remains ?' she inquired, shivering. _ ' Tell me, what is he like, this fossil-in-chief, that I may know what I have to expect ? ' 'Oh, tall, lean, and grizzled about the head; with scared-looking eyes, as if they could only see clearly underground/ said Clara, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. ' Why, he is a ghost in himself ! I shall be frightened to meet him,' exclaimed Helen. ' And he never speaks ; even reads at his meals, I believe,' said Annie, with a laugh. ' Worse and worse ! 0 girls, what am I to do ? What an ogre for a woman to be shut up with. Does he like music, I wonder ? But of course not!' ' They say music hath charms to soothe the savage breast; why not see if it will cause a resurrection in the pre-Adamite one?' hazarded one of the girls. * What! sing to a stone ? Impossible ! I should be too frightened. I must take lots of work, that's all; try and finish this rug for the bazaar. Dear, how cold it is !' and she shivered again. 'Yes; is it not?' said Annie, , drawing nearer to the lire, and giving it a (vigorous

poke. 'There is snow in the air; and snow here is no joke, let me tell you.. It regularly barricades us; we are such a height.' 'lf it fell to-night, the chances are you could not go to the Firs to-morrow. There is no driving a carriage in these parts until the snow is over.' ' I wish it may come down, then,' said Helen. ' Don't wish that, as it would put an end to our ball; so it cuts both ways. You have no idea how the snow falls here, several feet deep; and then we are shut up sometimes for weeks.' 'And a storm is brewing,' said Clara. ' I hope it will have the good heart to keep off until the ball is over. I don't know when I felt it so cold !' * * * # » * No snow fell the following day. It was in the air, people remarked, who understood the temperature. Amid much laughter on the girls', and misgiving on Helen's part, she was driven over to the Firs, and deposited among the fossils, with many injunctions to be careful she, herself, was not turned into a ' subject' for investigation. 'So very glad to welcome you, my love,' said old Mrs Hilton, embracing her. 'lt is so very kind of you to come and see us;' and she drew her to a seat near the fire, in the grand old drawing-room, where she kept solitary state each afternoon and evening. The warm embrace and the fire thawed Helen, and she began to feel comfortable. 'lf the son is only half as pleasant as his mother, she thought, ' I shall not object to the partial interment.' Some conversation followed; blending with which, Helen's thoughts flowed in the following under-current: ' I wonder if he has the look of his mother? What a joke if I happen to like him, and turn the tables on the girls ! I suppose I shan't see him until dinner-time, and then he will be reading a book. Tall, lean, grizzled ! — That sounds horrible!'

' You must excuse my son Robert,' said Mrs Hilton, wishing to prepare her for his peculiarities. 'He is eccentric, my dear, very ; not in the least a lady's man. He took to study early in life, and now lives among his books ; I must not complain, for, as an author, he has distinguished himself. Still it disappoints me that he shuts himself up so entirely, and has lost all taste for society, for I am only a poor invalid, and can't last for ever ; and I grow unhappy when I think of him left alone.

Helen then went to her room to prepare for dinner, Mrs Hilton's maid having interrupted their chat to show her the way. Having completed her toilet, she came down stairs with no slight amount of trepidation, hoping yet fearing, to find the much-dreaded fossil in the drawing-room. Robert Hilton had entered the drawingroom shortly after Miss Cameron had quitted it having actually dressed for dinner; a proceeding quite disregarded by him on ordinary occasions, for the very good reason that he always dined alone, as his mother was an invalid and could not bear him company. Mrs Hilton looked pleased to see her son so wonderfully brightened up by the little attention to his appearance, at the trouble and waste time of which he had been inwardly fuming. ' Helen has arrived,' she said, as he stood chafing his hands, and trying to warm them by the fire. 1 So I heard,' he answered shortly, looking anj thing but delighted. ' How long is she to stay ? This sort of thing is so terribly out of my line;' and he glanced at his evening dress as he spoke. ' She leaves on Friday; the girls at the Mount Farm won't spareher any longer. She is a very dear girl, Robert; I think you will like her,' she ventured timidly. The remark was entirely lost upon him, as he never entertained the idea of liking any woman, unless it might happen to be the remains of one which had been deposited in some spot by the avalanche of ages, awaiting his discovery. Such a woman he would love tenderly. Trembling outside the drawing-room door stood Helen, unable to turn the handle and enter, so afraid was she of encountering him; but growing desperate at last, she made a plunge, and went in with that awkward air which takes hold of one at difficult moments of intense self-consciousness. Still stooping over the fire, he did not notice her until she reached the sofa where his mother sat, who had encouraged her timid entrance with a smile, and said: ' Robert, my dear, this is Helen—Helen, my son, Robert.' To be continued.