LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume VII, Issue 777, 16 December 1876, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THE MISCHIEF MAKER. ( Continued.) As it was, he had time to recover himself before she looked up, and said, ‘There goes the carriage. Tom will be here in half an hour.’ 4 Won’t you excuse me now?’ asked Theodore, rising. 4 What for ? ’ cried JSTella. ‘ The Belvoirs will have had dinner an hour ago, so you may as well stay with me, and go up after we dine. Tom said he would bring Doctor Belvoir home with him. ’ 4 He is not coming till to-morrow,’ said Theodore. * Then you have not got his consent yet ? Poor fellow! He will give it, however, never fear. Oh, Theodore,’ she exclaimed, jumping up, 4 come and play some duets with me. I got three last week to try with auntie, and she has left without even going through them.’ They sat down to the instrument and were soon absorbed in the mysteries of a grand march. They played with great care, and were just concluding with a loud display of minor chords, when a ringing laugh from the otherend of the room made them rise simultaneously, and look around. There, at the door, stood Dr Belvoir and Mr Lester, both of them evidently enjoying the abrupt termination. 4 There’s a pretty go 1’ said Mr Lester. 4 1 leave my wife alone, and return to find her playing duets with the parson. Oh, Nella! Nella! and he laughed heartily again. 4 Is dinner ready, madam ?’ 4 I’ll ask,’ replied his wife, ringing the bell. Doctor Belvoir and Tom left the repm; Nella followed them out, but soon returned.

She found Theodore standing on the rug, and absently gazing at the floor. ‘ What fun 1’ she said, crossing up to him. * Have you declared your affections to the father yet, Theo ?’ * Yes 5 I wrote last night.’ * Then all is right,’ she said, ‘ and you can settle everything with him as you ride home this evening.’ Dinner over, the doctor and Theodore repaired together to Belvoir Park, On the way, the physician broached the subject on which Theodore had written to him. He expressed his entire satisfaction with the course things had so unexpectedly taken, and told him he knew no one to whom he could so willingly commit the care of his well beloved child. Theodore thanked him warmly for his kindness, and met his betrothed so joyously that not the keenest observer could have imagined that another thought was in his mind; and yet he had been troubled—yes, sorely troubled that evening. Chapter 11. Miss Issott and her skillful Abigil reached Edinburgh at about ten o’clock on the following morning; but, instead of repairing to the principal hotel, she ordered the cabman to drive to a private lodging-house in the suburbs: and, in reply to Violette’s questioning look, she said, ‘Yes, Violette; a hotel won’t suit my purpose just now.’ Violette evidently comprehended, and assumed .her ordinary immobility of countenance. The house to which they were driven was a semi-detached building of stone, which, however, was almost hidden by the thick foliage encompassing it on every side. A portly dame, attired in a robe which vied in colour with her flower-beds, came out to meet them ; and immediately recognizing Miss Issott, she bowed low, and bustled off before them into the house again. Miss Issott and Violette followed her, and were ushered into a low, but spacious and comfortable-looking apartment on the ground floor, where breakfast was served. The morning meal despatched and then Miss Issott repaired to her bedroom. Although it was only September, a bright little wood fire was burning in the grate and shed a soft light on the white drapery. Violette, who had by this time finished her unpacking, helped her mistress to undress, and then brought her dressing gown. ‘ I don’t feel a bit sleepy, Violette,’ said she, when her toilette was completed. * Madame is too tired to rest.’

‘Yes, I am much fatigued. Give me a popular novel; perhaps that will help me to get a little sleep.’ Violette brought the work as requested. * And now a little eau de vie and some warm water,’ said her mistress. ‘ Now, Violette, you can go. Put the little table near my chair; give me a cushion for my feet, and the novel. That is right. Now, where do you sleep.’ ‘ In the next room, madame ?’ ‘ Very good. Go down and have some breakfast and be ready to answer my bell when I ring. Stay; tell Mrs Staunton I will have dinner at six o’clock. ’ When Violette had gone, Miss Issott pulling the table closer, leaned her elbow on it, and opening her book, began to read slowly the while. Her interest flagging, she closed the novel, and falling back on the cushion, leisurely sipped her brandy-and-water. Presently she fell asleep and only awoke as a church clock in the vicinity was striking five. Then she roused herself, and giving the bell rope a pull, summoned Violette, and the lengthy process of dressing followed. An excellent dinner awaited her down stairs, and of this she leisurely partook. After dinner she told Violette to bring the cards, and they played at whist till bedtime.

The next morning she rose late, and after breakfast she ordered a brougham and prepared to make some calls. Her first visit was to Miss Bannatyne, an old friend and schoolfellow of hers, who resided with her niece in a large, old-fashioned mansion in the suburb where Miss Issott had taken up her temporary abode. She found the lady at home, and was heartily welcomed by her. They talked of old times, of Paris, of the scandals of the day, and finally of Miss Issott’s recent visit to Swiftwort. This led to a conversation about Tom and Nella, and then Miss Issott introduced the main point of her visit, and said, ‘ They have a new clergyman at Swiftwort, named Gordon.’

As she said this, she looked keenly at Miss Maggie Bannatyne, who sat in the bay window painting a flower. She was quite 5 oung, and very 'attractive looking. Her hair, which was of a dark shade, hung in graceful abandon on her shoulders. It was not curled or dressed in any way, but its natural growth and arrangement suited perfectly the .Spanish looking face which it surrounded. At this mention of Theodore Gordon, her cheeks flushed, and one pale, thin hand went up to hide it as her head drooped lower over the painting. ‘ Indeed!’ said Miss Baimantync, in reply to Miss Issott. * Did ho not live here once?’ ‘ A Theodore Gordon did live here,’ said Miss Bannatyne, stiffly ; ‘ but I do not know if he is the same. Miss Issott continued— ( l understood that he was engaged to Miss Maggie.’ Here she looked more closely at the figure in the bay window, but it neither moved nor spoke, only the hand covered the face more completely than before. ‘ Who dared to say so ’ demanded Miss Bannatyne, indignantly. 4 Oh, I can’t say who it is; in fact, I forget,’said Miss Issott. 4 Was it not so, then ?’ 4 No !’ said Miss -Bannatyne, clasping and unclasping her hands in the efforts to subdue her feelings. Miss Issott mercilessly went on, 4 Oh, I’m glad to hear it, for he is just going to be married to a Swiftwort young lady, of great wealth —a silly girl, quite unfit for him; but the money, you know, Miss Baunatyue. ’ Miss Bannatyne looked as if she could have annihilated her visitor on the spot, and had no small difficulty to restrain herself from saying something bitter against Theodore, (To lo continued,)