LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IV, Issue 420, 16 October 1875, Page 3

LITERATURE.

ALL THE DIFFERENCE.

Had Frank Cavendish desired it, he could have found an easy access to the best half of the best houses in town ; but he had failed to discover what satisfaction was to be derived from struggling up a crowded staircase, forcing and edging his way into a hot room already filled beyond its capacity, and, having caught a glimpse of a lion or two, and nodded to a number of people whom he has been meeting all day, performing similar ceremonies with reversed action. It is so like going to the pit of a theatre on Boxingnight; except that in society the hustled throng oidy looks the bad language which the pantomime-hunter speaks. The longest lane, however has a turning, and similarly Lady Carillior’s staircase, hard as was the ascent, had a top, at which Cavendish found himself one night in mid-July. One more effort, prolonged but ultimately successful, to make a way through the glittering rooms, and he reached a recess by a window, near which he had espied a particular friend. ‘ Cavendish !’ exclaimed Hunter, in some surprise, ‘ this is rather an unusual amusement for you, isn’t it ?’ ‘ Yes ; I am not much given to what you term an “amusement;” but I want to see some people who will be here presently, I expect,’ Cavendish replied. ‘ I hope you’ll find them, that’s all, for the place is terribly crowded to night; and, by Jove, I can’t think how some of the people get here. Did you see that little round woman, with such a small amount of body to her dress, or dress to her body, against whom I have unfortunately been wedged for some time ? Where on earth can sucli a person as that come from ? She has been telling me anecdotes of the “dear Countess. Such a charming creature, isn’t she ?” And when the “ dear Countess” sails by and greets her friends, she evidently does not know the little woman from—Eve, beyond perhaps, a reasonable speculation that when Eve did eventually take to clothes, she didn’t dress herself so barbarously. You know Scala, the pianist ?’ ‘ Slightly,’ Cavendish replied. ‘ You know that he has a title which he does not assume, and has been in the Austrian army, and is a friend of the Austrian royal family ? He has a higher title to esteem now, though. Little round woman says she met him at a lady’s house the other day, and he is “ quite a gentleman 1” AVretched little squaw ! I wonder what he would say if he condescended to speak on such a subject ?’ 4 Trobably not that she was “ quite a gentlewoman.” —AVhat do you think of matrimony, Hunter ? ’ Cavendish asked after a pause. 1 Think of it ? I don’t think of it. What’s the use? It is not intended for “the likes of me. ” ’ ‘ No ; but what’s your opinion ?’

‘That’s rather a comprehensive question. It depends so much upon circumstances indeed, I should say that one’s circumstances were quite the chief consideration. Peers should marry ; City people may : curates will. It’s perfectly marvellous how ecclesiastical subalters hanker after matrimony ; and the smaller their stipend is, the more anxious they invariably appear to divide it, first by two, and then by about fifteen.’ ‘ But if one is neither a peer, nor a city man, nor a curate ?’ Cavendish continued. < I imagine that it comes to about this : if you have a place to put a wife, get one and put her there. If you have a stable, it’s absurd not to keep a horse ; but a horse or a wife without conveniences for stowage would, I should fancy, be rather in the way,’ replied Hunter. ‘ What if a man has prospects ?’ ‘Most men have. I have—and uncommonly bad ones they are, too, for the matter of that No ; you want more than prospects to marry on.’ ‘ Don’t you think there is any state of things under which a man without fortune may marry ?’ Cavendish asked. ‘ His wife having a fortune instead is the only one I can think of. But why these questions? You don’t mean to say you are hit, and have come here to -Halloo ! is that it ?’ asked Hunter, following the direction of his friend’s look to the other side of the brilliant room, over the well-dressed crowd, dii-cs jrictai vestis, et anri \ ‘Florence Carrington ! Yon can’t get across the room until these people have finished fiddling, so it’s no use ’

I wish you could sec Florence Carrington as she stands by her aunt’s side at Lady Carillier’s reception, for it is impossible to do her justice by description. She was scarcely twenty, and much taller than you would at first suppose. Her hair is of that wonderful brown which shows tints of reddish gold in certain lights ; large grey eyes with sweeping lashes, a perfectly-shaped nose ; upper lip perhaps a little short, or it may have been its curve which made it seem so—at any rate, the effect was fortunate. I don’t think there was a prettier girl—hardly, in _ certain expressions of face, a more beautiful one in London that season. She had not seen Cavendish yet, so he could gaze at her undisturbedly ; and he did so in a kind of reverie until his friend spoke; < will you come with me to Baden next week? You’d better if that is the state of the case. My dear Frank, it’s absurd. Miss Carrington has not threepence of her own, and Lady Hazelwood, besides the pension of a general-officer’s widow, has scarcely threepence more. Fancy that girl living in the suburbs, and waiting inside a shop, on a rainy day, until the omnibus came by, and being hauled in, to complete the twelfth, by a dripping conductor ! You may like each other well enough ; but I know sufficient of Lady Hazelwood to be sure that she would not have it for a moment. Who is that speaking to them now —the old boy thei e . Oh Sir Francis Harborough. She would tell a different tale if he asked permission to address the girl—and he’s not a very good fellow, I believe. It’s strange how often a man of means is a mean man. Some swell like that will snap up Florence Carrington, you may depend upon it. He seems lather cvrls. There was a good deal of reason in Hunter’s speech; but its reason did not

make it any the more palatable to the hearer ; and Cavendish looked rather bitterly at the prospects, visionary and material, for thoughts similar in effect to his friend’s words had been suggesting themselves to him for some days past. ‘ I’m afraid you’re not far wrong. Well, if it must be, it must!’ Cavendish said, and muttered, half to him elf, the appropriate quotation — ‘ ’Tis better to have loved and lost. Than never to have loved at all.’ Hunter caught the phrase. {To bo continued.)