LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume VIII, Issue 839, 2 March 1877, Page 3

LITERATURE.

HELEN. C Continved.\ From that dqy alii attempts at landscape painting were at an end ; for me henceforth this was a holy memory of the past. Everything wore a glory look, as of Eden in its time of fairest loveliness : each bosky island was as Prospered enchanted isle, each lake like the sea* of glass on the eternal shore ; the mountains seeming to stretch a,way to the unseen and illimitable, where no shadows ever cloud their purple slopes, and where no mist ever' rests on their lofty summits. But above all her face was ever before me, coming between my vision an,d the scene I endeavored to depict, so, that at noon, or even, I might he, I saw always the soft terrier violet eyes looking at me, and the golden glory of her waving hair shining before my eyes. Chapter 11. On inquiring of my landlady, 1 found that my rustic beauty was the daughter of a farmer who had died some tune before, and that she now lived in the village of Gle'neden with her widowed mother, - y and I was not long in getting an opportunity of calling • upon her. Her father, from what I heard of ■ him, had evidently been an intelligent, well-

educated man, and He’en being his only child, he had given her an education above the common wants ol the district, and had looked upon 1 -r as lire very apple of his eye I "ou nl her mind as well informed as her appo nee was prepossessing, and in those happy da.vs pave mysel' wholly up to the sweeis of Jove. Their ILttle cottage was the pret.'cst : n Ihe whole village, with ivy and honeysuckle climbing up the porch; the summer breeze wafting into the pleasant room the fragrance of the roses that grew up the wall and clustered about the window-sill. A nd so the dayspa -'sedon, each more delightful than theonepreced' ig, until I thought that if there was heaven ou earth it was surely ixere. At lr.se I asked her to be my wife. I can yet remember the conversation that passed between us as we sat on a mossy bank in the wood, with the brook at our feet purling over the pebbles in its bed, its tink.ing cadence, sob and low, bearing a soothing dreamy feeling over the spirit, and mingling with the song of the birds and the whisper of the lading leaves. ‘My daring ! ’ And I put my aim round her yielding waist, and looked up into the soft eyes that were cast dow n to the ground, but when I spoke looked iuto mine with the light of love beaming from them. * Will you be my wife, Helen ? Do you think you love me well enough to be that ? I know I can never love another as I love you, and until I saw you I did not know what it was to love. Without you to share it life will henceforth not be worth living for; but with you, it will be an Eden for ever. Will you accompany me on the voyage, dearest, when I will try to shield you from all trouble and care ? Helen, will you be mine for ever and ever, till death parts us ? ’ ‘ Yes, A’ thur. I have loved you from the first.’

. She spoke in low gentle tones, loud enough, however, for me to hear, and to me they were the sweetest words I had ever listened to. I clasped her to my beating heart, and covered her cheek with kisses.

‘ Ah, but, Arthur, perhaps you’ll get tired of me, and be ashamed of your village maiden when you take her among your own kindred. ’

‘Never, my darling! Though all the world should forsake you, I will be near for you to lean upon, and to comfort you for ever, so help me God ! ’ Were these idle words I spoke to her, without even the shadow of truth in them ? God knows I loved her then, and love her sti 1 !, as I never shall love any one on earth ag.dn, and that what I spoke I spoke out of a true heart.

The sun was setting behind the far off hills as we took our way homeward, happy as ever lovers were happy on this side the grave. We spoke little—when the heart is full the tongue is often most silent—but we knew the thoughts that were in each other’s hearts, and her looks, at least, were more eloquent than words. And as we parted at the stile that led to ihe village, we plighted our troth again, and with a burning kiss and a close embrace parted, her golden hair glistening in the tender sunshine as she slowly walked by the beech trees towards her home.

I returned to the woods, and walked there till the moon shone out on the sleeping earth, and shed her silver radiance through the stillness of the glade. I sat again on the mossy bank where we had told our love, listening to tbe eternal murmur of the stream, that seemed to tell of peace and happiness that would never pass away. When I reached my lodgings in the evening I found a letter awaiting me, with the superscription, ‘ Sir Arthur Compton, Bart.’ Good God! what was this? I was distantly connected with the Comptons of Grange Court; but as there were two persons not much older than myself who barred any prospect of my succeeding to the title and estates, I had always looked upon it as an idle dream, and had banished from my mind all idea of the probability of its ever happening. And now, when I least expected it, it had come true. A baronet! But to what fortuitous chance was I indebted for being thus addressed. "With trembling fingers I broke the seal, and read

4 Lincoln’s-inn Fields, London, July 17, 18-. 4 Sir Arthur Compton, Baronet. ‘Dear Sir Arthur, —We have the honor of informing yon that, owing to a sudden death, by a railway accident (of which you may have read in the daily papers), of Sir Charles Compton, Baronet, and his cousin, you have succeeded to the title and estates. ‘Wo shall b.e glad to be continued as agents of the estates, a position which our firm has held for the last forty years. ‘ We arc, dear Sir Arthur, your obedient servants,

4 Brackenridoe & Morris

‘ P. S. —As there are various matters connected with the estates, which it is desirable should he attended to as soon as possible, we would suggest your coming to Loudon at as early a date as you conveniently can. 1 I can scarcely now tell with what varied feelings I perused and re-perused this epistle. I slept little that night, cogitating over my good Inch, and wondering how my betrothed would bear the tidings which I had now to tell; for I looked upon the news as equally with myself concerning as she had agreed to become my vof®. I rose early, and after a long walk through the wo.oda to calm my mind took the wellknown path to the village, fully expecting to see my beloved one at the window, looking out and watching for me, as was her wont. But no one waa there; and when I entered 1 found, to my disappointment, that a friend had called late on the previous, evening, and asked her to go to nurse a relative who was not expected to live many days, and that she might not be back for a Week. I cannot teli what a disappointment this was to me ; but it was too far for me to go to her in the pressing circumstances, and not a very fitting time to acquaint her with the good fortune which had befallen me. So, telling my betrothed’s mother that I had to leave for London, and that I should write after 1 got there, I bade her good bye, packed up my things, and went off by the night train, reaching London next morning. 1 was thrown into new society on my arrival in London. Yrung, rich, and titled, my presence was sought at the houses of the noble and wealthy in the great city, and for some weeks after my arrival my life was one, round of pleasure. Alas, I had , never written to Helen since I left the sweet • village bf Gieueden. What with business whioh had to be attended to and engage- ; meats from which I could not well extricate myself, my time had, been so fully occupied that I had put off writing to her from day

to day ; and now that I had delayed so long I was almost ashamed to write to her. About this time I met at a ball Lady Laura Vane, the youngest daughter of an old but rather impoverished family, and my vanity was agreeably touched by the evident pleasure which Lady Laura seemed to have in my society. She was tall, lithe as a panther, with tresses black as the raven’s wmg, and large lustrous dark eyes, now soft and melting, as an April shower, now fierce and flashing, as they were kindled by indignation or insulted pride. Her complexion wasfair for a brunette, and dazzling from its transparent beauty, except when a shade of passing emotion would deepen the delicate rose-blush on the face. In Lady Laura’s presence my village maid was forgotten altogether, and I abandoned myself without reluctance to the influence of the siren. Out of her presence the old feelin" of tenderness for my first love would come back to my heart, only to be dispelled at my next interview with the enchantress, until the image of my instic beauty grew fainter and fainter, and I gave myself madly up to the seductive power that now encircled me. Not a day passed without my seeing Lady Laura. I would call for her to vide in the Park (she was a splendid horseAvoman, and looked Avell in the saddle), or would drive her out in the neAv phaeton I had purchased; or in the evening I would attend her at the Opera, the envied of many a one, who would have given much for a look from her beautiful eyes. {To he continued.}