LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume VIII, Issue 1004, 13 September 1877, Page 3

LITERATURE.

MARY CARROLL. [‘Dublin University Magazine.’] The scene of my story is a remote district in the county of Donegal the time between forty and fifty year-; ago A lovely summer’s day was just ending, the last rays of the sun gilding the distant mountains and casting a crimson glow on the lovely river, which wound with mauy a graceful turn through the fair valley, almost encircling the homestead of Maurice Carroll, then with a sudden curve stretching away to the other side in the direction of the town of L , about half a mile distant. A small lawn was in front of Mr Carroll’s house, which about half way down became a garden, rich in summer time with bright flowers and graceful shrubs, and terminated by a small ornamental gate, which opened upon the road to L . At this gate two persons were standing, one of them a tall, strongly-built young man with a dark face, which was decidedly handsome, notwithstanding the fierce, reckless look upon it. By dress and bearing he seemed to occupy a position superior to the ordinary farmers of those days, as did also his fair companion. They stood in earnest conversation for some time, evidently of no pleasurable bind, for the girl’s face was flus* ed and troubled, as she murmured some low words in response to his apparently earnest entreaties. ‘ And this is my answer, Mary ?’

The words were spoken very fiercely, and the tall figure of the speaker shook with suppressed passion, ‘ls this all lam to receive for my years of weary waiting ?’

The look of pain deepened on the girl’s handsome face as she replied, ‘ I can give you no other answer, Mr Bassett, and you cannot in justice reproach me with keeping you waiting, as I never in my life gave you the slightest reason to imagine that I entertained any feeling of regard towards you.’ ‘And what may your objection be, Miss Carroll?’ he replied, with a sneer which destroyed all the dark beauty of his face, and made his companion shudder. ‘ls not the son of Gerald Bassett good enough to enter the family of the Carrolls ? A few generations ago and the story would be far different; but now ’ ‘Hush ! William Bassett,’ said the girl, her face flushing deeply as she spoke" ‘ I have not deserved this taunt from you. As I said before, I have never misled you as to the state of my feelings, and I never pretended to be anything better than a simple country girl, the daughter of a plain hardworking man, whose honest industry it has pleased Heaven to bless with reasonable prosperity. I never dreamed of thinking of the son of Gerald Bassett, whose memory I respect and honor, and, and—and, I do not see why I should hesitate to tell you what must soon be known to everybody, that I cannot be your wife, because I have already promised to be the wife of another. And now, permit me to pass, Mr Bassett, for the evening is pretty far advanced, and I have a good many things to see after.’

* Promised to be the wife of another !’ exclaimed the man, the angry flush deepening on his face as he spoke. ‘You are, you must be mocking me then, as she again attempted to pass him, he went on—‘Yes, you shall pass, but not just yet You shall not go until you have told me the name of this rival;’ then, as some sudden recollection struck him, ‘Surely it is not that pitiful sneak, O’Hara ? I have remarked you with him sometimes; but no, your father would not permit his addresses for an instant.’

‘Mr O’Hara is no sneak,’ said the girl, her beautiful eyes Hashing as she spoke, ‘ and I shall not stay to hear you insult him. He is a true-hearted, honest man, a credit to your good father, and to the place where he bel nga, as well as to the girl he has chosen ; and whose only regret, concerning him is, that she is not more worthy of such good fortune. It you wish to know my father’s opinion of him you can easily hear it by asking him; also what he thinks of the man, who, from his very boyhood, has never let an opportunity pass of annoying and persecuting him.’ She rushed past him as she finished speaking, but he caught h< r rudely by the dress. ‘Wait for a minute till I tell you mine, Miss Carroll, Edward O’Hara has been my evil genius all my life. He has crossed my path at every turn, marring all my plans, and continually robbing me of the regard of those dearest to me—and think you for a moment that I will let this sneak, this beggar, this supplanter, this pitiful creature of my foolish father’s bounty crown all by depriving me of you? You shall never be his wife, Mary Carroll, while I have the power to prevent you. And now go, ’ Glad to be released, Mary Carroll turned from him into her father’s house, but busy as she was for the remainder of the evening, she could not divest herself of an uncomfortable feeling very nearly akin to terror, as she recalled his llerce countenance and threatening manner. She was the only child of Maurice Carroll, a. hard working honest man, who, beginning life comparatively poor, had amassed a considerable fortune by dealing in cattle, to purchase which ho was in the habit of attending di taut fairs, and- in consequence was often absent from home for a week or longer at a time. So Mary was left a good deal to herself, but she was a wise steady girl, minding nothing but ber own business, and looking after the two servants, who were her only companions during her father’s ab sence, for her mother was long dead, and the greater part of the management, oj the place devolved upon her. Edward O’Hara was the son of a neighbor, who died suddenly, leaving his wife and child very poorly provided for , and as his widow only survived bis death a few months, the boy would have been totally destitute, had not Gerald Bassett, a gentleman farmer residing in the neighborhood, taken the little orphan home. During his lifetime, Edward O’Hara never knew thq want of a father. Kind-hearted and generous Mr Bassett 1 treated him in every respect like his own son, William, who, from the very first, took ■ a sHoug dislike to the boy, whom he re girded as an intruder—-a dislike which was no doubt increased by a rather injudicious habit of My Bassett’s, who constantly held up the gentle and industrious Edward, as a model fur imitation to hia own revklesa son. (To he aontinved.)