LITERATURE

Globe, Volume VIII, Issue 957, 19 July 1877, Page 3

LITERATURE

THE WHITE HOUSE. By the Author of “ I he Witch-Thorn.”) (Co n.ti nved.) ‘ Ccmo, dearest.’ ho said, with a slight impatience in his tone ; ‘it is time to end this. It is a very good jest, but you have tried me long enough, and should confess it now ’ While he spoke, he again approached her. and again she flitted backwards, eyeing him witlx a wild, bright look, which, despite its mirth, had something so peculiar in it, or that seemed to him so peculiar, that he felt singularly affected, and an involuntary shiver passed through his frame. She had retreated to the mantelpiece, and, taking from off it a beautifully-cut glass goblet, she poised it in her hands, still with the same strange, mischievous smile gleaming in the blue-grey eyes, which he had never before seen but calm and serious. Was she about to throw it at him ? He had only time to step aside, when the goblet came flying across the room, and fell on the very place he had filled a moment since. The crash was followed by a peal of low laughter, and turning, with a mocking gesture, she waved a farewell to him, and vanished through a door that communicated with another part of the house. The young man stood still, the echoes of that subdued laughter sounding in his ears, with a cadence strangely wild and unmirthful. He felt utterly mystified, and a weirdlike sense stole over him. The sudden and complete transformation in Caroline had dazed and bewildered him. Was he dreaming ?he asked himself. Did some spell hold him ? and had he only fancied what had passed ? It was some minutes before he collected himself sufficiently to follow her. He was d termiued that she should give him an explanation of her singular conduct, and account for The extraordinary act with which she had > ermina* ed the scene. There was no sign of her. He called her name, but with out receiving any reply. After a few minutes, however, a servant-maid appeared, and of her he inquired where Miss M'Carty was.

“Why, sir,” answered she, “ sure they’re out—Mrs Stevens and Miss M Carthy. They went out dhrivin’ this mornin’, and the misthresa said they wouldn’t be home till late, an’ I was to tell you so, if you called, sir. ”

“ Rut I have just seen Miss M'Carthy. She left me only a few moments ago. Either she didn’t accompany Mrs Stevens, or has since returned unknown to you.” “ No, sir, said the girl, positively. “ They didn’t come in, either on them, that I’m sartin sure of : an’ Miss Carthy went out in the carriage this mornin’, I seen her wid my two eyes.” “If you had twenty eyes to see her with, it makes no difference. I tell you that 1 have seen and spoken to Miss M‘Carty ; and she is in the house now, unless she left it within the last few minutes. ”

The girl made no reply, but she was silent, evidently only because she did not like to contradict again Suddenly, howev«~, her face change i from its expre ision of stolid unbelief, as though some thought had struck her. Her eyes grew round as if in terror, her rosy cheeks paled. She looked a picture of mortal affright. ‘ The Lord be betuue us an’ harm, ’ she muttered. ‘lt’s true, then Oh, blessed Vargin, save us ! Avock, avock ! but it’s awful to think on, so it is. ’

She dropped on her knees, and, pulling out her rosary, began with trembling lingers to tell her beads.

‘ What ails you, girl?’ cried a sharp, impatient voice, and the Swiss woman who had accompanied Mrs Stevens and her niece from abroad appeared. ‘ Get up ; what are you about ?’ As the girl did not stir, but continued to mutter her Avc Marias, as if for the bare life, Bowring explained that he wished to find Mbs M'Carty, but had been assured that she was out, although he knew to the

contrary. He had not the least idea what had caused the girl’s alarm. ‘ Nor does she know herself, perhaps, any better,’ said the woman. ‘But you heard rightly—Mrs Stevens and Miss M‘Carty are both out.’ Bowring repeated that he had but just seen the young lady. * You saw her, and she was speaking to you, was she, sir?’ ‘ Yes—no —not exactly. She was with me, and I was speaking to her. ’ The woman was silent.

‘Well, sir,’ she said at last, ‘of course, since that is the case, she has returned, though we didn’t know it. I’ll go and find her, and tell her that you wish to see her.’

‘ Tell her I desire it most particularly, if only for a few moments.’ She went away. Bowring awaited her return impatiently. In a short time she came, alone. ‘ Miss M ‘Carty is in her room, sir, ’ she said, ‘ and wishes me to say that she cannot see you at present. ’ * Nothing more ?’ ‘No, sir.’ The young man turned away, and, leaving the house, walked slowly down the avenue, his thoughts iu a state of utter confusion. He resolved to go to the house next evening, according to his usual habit, and then he would demand an explanation from Caroline, But, in the meantime, anxious and uneasy as he was, he could not prevent his mind from endeavouring to supply that explanation Did she, indeed, love the man whose picture he had seen her kiss so wildly? And was her singular conduct adopted to drive him to cancel an engagement that she now found herself disinclined to fulfil ? Chapter IV. THE PARTING. Full of conjectures as to how Caroline would meet him, or if she would meet him at all, Captain Bowring went next evening to the White House. At the door Caroline met him —Caroline in the character in which he had learnt to love her, he quickly saw. She welcomed him in her sweet, pensive smile, that had nothing in it of the wild brightness of yesterday. He responded coldly, bending on her a sternly questioning gaze. She took no jnotiee, however, but led him into the room where Mrs Stevens was.

He could not introduce the subject uppermost in his mind until they wore alone, and with provoking persistence, Mrs Stevens remained rooted to the spot. Ho avoided, as much as possible, addressing Caroline

directly. Once or twice he saw her cast a quick, somewhat surprised glance at him. He began to fear no opportunity would offer for his purpose, so determined to make one, and when, as dusk gathered, Mrs Stevens rose to light Hie lamp, he requested Caroline to come into the garden |for a s roll. She assented readily, and they went out. lie felt embarrassed how to speak, how to accuse her of falsehood and caprice, while he gazed into those earnest eyes, and her hand rested fondly on his arm. He could not bring himself directly to do so. It seemed like profanation to u ter the words to her—disloyalty on his part to think the thoughts that were in his mind. Yet, incomprehensible as her conduct had been, there was no denying the fact of it He began to speak, and by rec rHug to some incidents in his past life, contrived to mention the name of his former friend, the young officer whose portrait he had seen her kiss with such passionate emotion. The instant he uttered tire name, he felt Caroline’s hand tremble as it lay on his arm, but she did not speak, and he continued :

‘ We were very close friends once, myself and Weldon. 1 think something like real fr endship existed on both sides ; yet it has had no continuance. It is a Jong time Hnce I eitner saw or heard anything o him.’

His companion sighed gently. The sound roused Bowring’s anger and jealousy. His feelings gave him courage to speak more plainly. ‘ But I need not talk to you of Lieutenant Weldon,’he said. ‘You know him well. He is a very dear friend of yours, is he not. Mas been, or is, something more than a friend ?’

Till he finished speaking, he had not noticed that she had left his side, and now stood before him, with that mocking, half playful, half malign smile gleaming in her eyes. He was about to start forward and seize her hand, while he demanded speech from her, when there she was beside him again, her e3’es bent on the ground in serious thought, no vestige of a smile on her face, her hand resting on his arm as if it had never been withdrawn. Surely he must have been misled by fancy, or s me effect of the shadowy moonbeams. It was some minutes before he spoke again ‘Caroline,’ he said, speaking with an effort, ‘ 1 perceive now that what I feared is true. You do not love me, you never can have done so, and you engagement to me—why you entered on it, Cod knows—has become burdensome to you. But I should have preferred that you had said so plainly instead of acting in the strange and enigmatical manner that you have done. Then, at least. I could have retained my respect. Oh, Caroline !’ He stopped, and bowed his head on his breast, covering his face with his hands, then cont uued. brokenly, * But now, the Caroline 1 loved is gone g me. •She seems to have no existence anywhere. You are only her mocking image, changing mmneutly, as if to tantalise me, and yet, this instant, so l ike that I could al cost believe myself un d sooner than . It is possible that you have really no explanation to offer?—that you are utterly fickle and false ?’ He turned his clouded eyes towards her, his features quivering with emotion. She met his g ance haughtily. “I do not understand your ravings,’she sai , with indiguantiou whether real or pretended, he could not decide—in her tone. ‘ I do a t ad-, i that there has been anything in my conduct towards you that requires explanation. You must be one of those persons who make themselves and others miserable by ill-founded Jealousy. Yet nr, I think I begin to comprehend it now. You do not wish for any connection with a member of so ill-starred a family as mine. I might well retort in your own words ; you do not love me, and the engagement has hec me irksome to you; yeti should have been glad if you had said so openly, instead of seeking to throw the blame of cancelling it on mo. Then my respect for you might have ci ntinued. ’

‘And you can speak thus to me?’ be c ie-J, turning round on her, his lately dimmed eyes Hashing indignantly. ‘ 1 did not expect this, when you know what I saw, what proof 1 have of your falsehood.’ ‘ I do not understand you,’

‘ You are determined not io do so. It is your best course, perhaps, though it lowers you still further in my estimation ; but you don’t care for that.’

‘lt is time to part,’ she said, coldly. ‘ 1 did not seek your attentions, and I am puni-hed now for ever having allowed them. We do not lovr each other, and we both wish the engagement sundered, that is enough ; now all is over between us, go.’ ‘Yes, heartless and capricious coquette, all is indeed over,’ he answered. ‘ I have served your turn, end beguiled your solitude during the absence of another. But of what value <s such love as yours to any man? Where I he, I would scorn it, spurn it from me. ’

‘Go,’ she repeated, her head erect, her face showing white and sec. in the moonlight, as she waved him away, with an actio u like that of yesterday, when thus she had forbade his nearer approach ; but there was no smile on her countenance now. ‘Farewell, then,’ he said; ‘may God forgive your cold-hearted caprice. I cannot yet.'’ Chapter V. A REVELATION. Although the vicinity of the White House no longer awakened any pleasurable feelings iu Bowring's mind, he yet lingered on the spot. His steps frequently turned in the direction of the little hazel glen in which he had so often sit or walked with < aroline ; where he had first spoken to her his love, and she had listened. Through this glen lie could reacli the old castle, which he had also visited in her company, and on whose summit the first link of a str.mge sympathy between them had been formed

Many a time he strayed on till ho stood amidst its decaying arches, while night gathered dimly round, and a few faint moonbeams glimmered through tiio lonely place. Pacing among the tangled underwood, whose roots twisted round his feet as he walked, or standing stili, his head sunk on his breast in meditation, he might have represented that solitary figure, which, in her fanciful drawing of the place, Caroline had begun to sketch, and then capriciously oblite.-atcd. Had some dim foreshadowing f what had come now influenced her that day ? (To he continued.')