LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume VI, Issue 671, 14 August 1876, Page 4

LITERATURE.

WHY ARE YOU WANDERING HERE, I PRAY. Part I. ( Continued.) 1 But my father was a gentleman ? ’ said the girl indignantly. ‘lndeed, yes, my dearie 1’ Of that Mattie was quite sure, and she dwelt lovingly on the gallant bearing and good looks of the young warrior, whose coming had caused such grief of heart. 4 And surely, my dear, it was a wonderful thing for your uncle to take on so about the marriage, seeing that he must have known such a beautiful young lady as your dear mamma would marry some And in theory George had known it; but then the' possible husband had been a scholar, like himself, refined, fastidious, scorning delights, and living laborious days in the interest of abstract truth; not a man of blood (poor Phillip Yerschoyle !), whose highest ambition was to slaughter pheasants and ride down foxes, and who fell asleep over a book ? ‘ And handsome he was, my dearie, went on Mattie, 4 with black hair, and blue eyes that were always laughing, and a word for every one.’ Georgie had inherited much of her father s good looks, though it was not her beauty so much as a certain charm about her that attracted. In truth it was not easy to discover her beauty, disguised as she was by her dress. What figure can survive badlyfitting clothes ? Yet her figure was really good ; graceful, slight, and with the natural ease resulting from perfect physical development ; it was more artistically perfect than her changeful face, with its sweet mutations and perpetual contradictions. Her violet eyes looked out from a pair of long silky lashes; her color, bright yet delicate, came and went with every change of feeling, while her brown wavy hair was shot with rich golden gleams. Georgie loved her dead father’s memory {iassionately. What hours she would sit, onely in the forest, dreaming over that vanished past 1 4 0 patient life ! 0 tender strife!’ She saw it all. That morning of love ; then the two who, * Wedded from the portal stept,’ while all around ‘ The air was soft with fanning wings ;’ but behind, like a baleful shadow, was the brother’s anger. Then after those few short years of happiness —three at the most—came the end, when all was peace. Mattie could never gratify the girl more than by telling her she was like her father, and, though quite unconsciously to her, his memory came between her and the cold stern uncle who lived absorbed in his books, training her intellect, while he neglected that no less noble part of her which imperiously claimed attention. A certain haughty pride kept her from ever questioning him or asking for anything for herself; and this being so, it was not wonderful that she had no idea of the wealth of affection he felt for her. 4 He dosen’t care for me because I am my father’s child,’ she thought bitterly; and no doubt in early days he had often been repelled by seeing Philip Verschoyle’s eyes gaxing out of the baby face. But all such feeling had long since passed away, and she was now his one tie to life, the final cause of all his labour and saving. For he did Save. The habit .began when he first conceived that distrust of Mattie, and then it grew on him till use became second nature. All this time when Georgie was bog-trotting in the Forest in clod-hopping boots and without a decent gown, she was in fact an heiress, whose entry into the matrimonial market would have caused a perfect flutter of excitement among all the titled and untitled paupers in London. Perhaps George Arnold saved to please himself; but he thought he did so for Georgie Yerschoyle, and the delusion added dignity to his life. Till she was nineteen she lived thus absolutely isolated, knowing no one save the Forest cottagers and the members of the household; and then the change came. A house near them that had been untenanted for years was taken for the summer by a magnate of the neighbouring county, and an acquaintance, founded on a misadventure in the Forest, sprang up between his family and the lonely girl. A gay party of ladies and gentlemen, out on an exploring expedition, got fast stuck in the great bog, and there Georgie, out herself after the sundew, which frows abundantly in those parts, saw them oundering helplessly about up to their knees, wet, puzzled, laughing, their clothes and hands all torn and scratched. From the vantage point of the only bit of solid ground in the quaking bog around, Miss Yerschoyle watched the party, much as Miranda must have watched Alonso and his companions. 4 0 wonder 1 How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is ! 0 brave new world That has such people in’t !’ Her acquaintance with the male sex was confined to her uncle George, small, dry, and wiry-looking; to Nellie Shergold’s father, tall, gaunt, and yellow as a guinea from chronic jaundice; to the occasional butcher and baker, whose visits made the brightness of Nellie’s life; and to one or two other foresters or tradesmen, mostly rheumatic or asthmatic. But the men in attendance on these nymphs floundering about in the bog were tall and bearded, and all more or less goodly to look upon. One soldier-like figure especially arrested her attention. He towered above his companions, like Saul the son of Kish, and his own weight seemed to be sinking him deeper and deeper into the slough. Seeing her standing on dry ground, a consultation took place among the party. 4 Do call to her and ask her if she can tell us how to get out,’ said Miss Aylmer, a bright looking little brunette, to the giant who had fixed Georgie’s attention ; but he, under the drooping and shabby hat, had caught sight of a face and a pair of eyes that made him hesitate. 4 Can I ?’ he asked doubtfully. 4 She is a ady.’ 4 Never mind who she is, if she can tell us how to get out of this. It looks like a bog where she is, yet she seems to be standing on firm ground, ’ 4 How can I shout to a lady ? She will think it so rude. ’ 4 Could you gejjjmarer to her ?’ He tried, but sank every moment deeper and deeper into it; and Georgie, looking on,

did not know whether to be amused or sorry. ‘ Mr Chalmers, do appeal to that girl over there to help us !’ said Julia. ‘A fit of shyness, surely the first he has ever had, has come over Colonel Yerschoyle, and he refuses to speak. Are you afraid she is a spirit and will vanish into thin air, or disappear with a melodious twang, if you address her ?’ she added, turning to him. * She looks substantial enough to judge by her boots, answered Mr Chalmers, who prided himself on his small feet; but while he was talking, Julia solved the question by appealing herself to Georgie for help in a loud voice, (To be continued.)