LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume VI, Issue 654, 24 July 1876, Page 3

LITERATURE.

A SLIGHT FLIRTATION. ( Continued.) ‘This ridiculous paragraph,’ returned Mr Maldon, more calmly, and re-adjusting his glasses. ‘ I am surprised at an able editor inserting such nonsense.’ ‘ He would be a very miraculous editor who could keep nonsense out,’ suggested Armidale. ‘ What is it, Mr Maldon ?’ ‘ Listen to this stuff. “ Romantic Story. —This quiet and secluded village of Poppletown has recently proved the scene of a sad tragedy.” ’ ‘ Who ever heard of a gay tragedy ! ’ interrupted Armidale. ‘ But, never mind : go on, Mr Maldon.’ ‘ “ A young lady, the daughter of a retired officer living in the village, was engaged to a gentleman well known in the hunting world. ” ’ . . . ‘ Fortune-hunting world ?’ inquired Armidale. ‘No, no,’ said Mr Maldon. ‘Dont you know Poppletown is on the borders of Leicestershire ? ‘ ‘ Shortly after the engagement the gentleman was obliged to leave England, on account of ” ’ ‘His creditors, of j course,\put in]Armidale. , „ . . . ‘ Oh, Mr Armidale, do let papa finish the story,’ cried Rosie. _ < I am coming to the point, Armidale, said Mr Maldon. ‘Wait a moment—“ on account of his ill health. He passed the winter in the south of Italy. His letters to his betrothed became less and less frequent, and at last .they ceased altogether, and the poor young lady soon afterwards learned, by an announcement in the lints, that the faithless swain had married somebody else. ’’ ‘ Oh ! what a bad, bad swain 1’ said Armidale gravely. ‘And now, Armidale,’ continued Mr shaking his glasses from his nose, 1 and addressing him as if he was a witness,

‘ what do you think this newspaper fellow says she did ?’ * Brought an action for breach of promise,* returned Armidale promptly. * Not a bit of it. Had she been guided by counsel’s opinion, that, no doubt, is the course she would have pursued. No—the journalist has the audacity to conclude the story by saying, “The unhappy young lady died literally of a broken heart.” ’ ‘ Poor girl !* murmured Rosie. * But I don’t wonder at it. What is it that you do not believe, papa ?’ ‘Why, this literal broken heart. The thing is absurd. I admit that grief may so •powerfully affect the stomach and digestive organs, that food is not properly assimilated, and so the body wastes away, and death eventually ensues; but I resolutely maintain that sorrow cannot bring about a fissure in the heart. Oh! how I should like to have the fellow who wrote this paragraph in the witness box for just five minutes—l’d turn him inside out about his broken heart. That’s twaddle !’ And Mr Maldon impatiently rose from his chair and paced up and down the room. Arthur Armidale seemed to have lost what interest he might have had in the story; for as soon as he heard the denouement he strolled up to the open windows, planted his hands in his pockets, and became absorbed in contemplation of the landscape. liosie was about to return to the piano, and endeavour to allay the unquiet spirit of contradiction that had apparently risen in her parent’s breast, when a servant appeared, and announced—- ‘ Dr Bodmin.’ ‘ Ah ! ’ exclaimed Mr Maldon, shaking the Doctor warmly by the hand, ‘ here is a man who will support my view, if he knows anything of medical jurisprudence.’ 1 And if he doesn’t support your view you will naturally set him down as an ignorant blockhead,’ returned Dr Bodmin, laughing, * How d’ye do, Miss Rosie ? ’ How are you, Armidale?’

Dr Bodmin was a pleasant, cheery person —quite a boy in his profession ; he had only practised for about ten or fifteen years—and he looked like an ordinary mortal, dressed like a layman, and had a cigarry perfume about him which would have ruined him in London, and even supposing that his common sense and want of sympathy with feminine complaints would not have altogether blighted his prospects as a fashionable medicine-man. 1 What is the subject of discussion. Mr Maldon ? It’s rather early for argument, is’nt it ? Remember, I am here on special invitation to see your new conservatories.’ Ah, to be sure,’ replied Mr Maldon ; * I am longing to show them to you, and I am prepared with an answer to every criticism that you will make. But, first, let me ask you this—did you ever see a broken heart?’ ‘ Never,’ replied the Doctor, promptly.’ ‘ Exactly. Just what I say; the thing ia perfectly absurd.’ * Well, but wait a moment,’ said Dr Bodmin, who never suffered Mr Malden’s argumentative spirit to have everything its own way. ‘ I don’t go so far as you, I never saw the Battle of Waterloo, but I have reason to believe it took place.’ ‘Yes, yes,’ rejoined Mr Maldon; ‘but that’s a matter of record, and so would be taken cognisance of by the courts -without further evidence.’ ‘Dear Dr Bodmin,’ interrupted Rosie, ‘ what papa means is this —can disappointed love kill a woman !’

* All ?' exclaimed the Doctor, shrugging his shoulders, ‘ that is a question upon which I am not prepared to give an opinion off-hand. Love is one of those complaints which are usually described as baffling the most eminent medical skill. We cannot tabulate its systems, they are so infinite in their variety ; neither can we arrive at any accurate diagnosis.’ ‘ Aha !’ laughed Mr Maldon triumpantly. 1 It is enough for me that, in his examinationin- chief, the witness admits the possibility of the truth of my case. We will defer his cross-examination till after lunch. Come along. Doctor.’ And Messrs Maldon and Bodmin adjourned to the new conservatories. ‘Andwhat do you think about it, Mr Armidale ?’ asked Rosie abruptly. *Do you believe in broken hearts V * Well, I don’t like to believe in anything so disagreeable,’ replied Arthur evasively. ‘ I am afraid I understand your answer too well,’ returned Rosie, as she sat down on the sofa and trifled with some flowers in a vase close by. ‘ You are the sort of man that puts sorrow from him, and turns his back upon it as he would any ugly thing that offended his taste. But such miseries exist, and we cannot ignore them.’ ‘ Oh, Miss Rosie,’ exclaimed Arthur, earnestly, seating himself on the sofa by her side, ‘ I am not heartless as you choose to think I am. You must not judge me by the light words I often say. I have learned them, I confess, in the thin atmosphere of a frivolous society. But since I have had the delight of being a guest in this house I have been taught to feel how foolish such light words are, and that there is real earnestness in the purposes of this life of ours.’ ‘ Indeed, Mr Armidale ? And may I ask who has taught you this lesson ?’ ‘You.’ What had the poor roses done that they should be picked to pieces so fast ? What could Rosie Maldon have been thinking about that she should so wantonly spoil the bouquet she had arranged with so much care before breakfast ? ‘I, Mr Armidale ? I am sure I had nointention of being such a perceptor/ ‘ But you could not help it,’ pursued Armidale, hurriedly. ‘ I have had the privilege of knowing you now for some three months past; for the last fortnight your father’s hospitality has permitted me to be under the same roof with you; we have been in constant companionship. May I say that I have found you so very different from most girls that I have met ’ ‘Oh pr. stop, Mr Armidale. Don’t tell me that most girls are vain, frivolous, and thoughtless, and that I am different from the rest. Confess, rather, that you have judged these “most girls” harshly, and that you would repair the injustice you have done them by telling me that they are infinitely better than you thought they were. That would be quite enough.’ ‘lf I could say so, honestly, I would, replied Arthur ; ‘ but the young ladies it has been my good, or bad, fortune to meet seemed to care for nothing but admiration and flattery.’ I To be continued, ]