LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume VIII, Issue 1046, 3 November 1877, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THE FAIR FACE IN THE YELLOW CHARIOT. A Pakk Romance of the Last London Season. ( Continued .) He was inclined to be a little stiff and cold in his far'wells spoken at the door in Kensington square. But then the pretty protestations of gratitude and thanks so volubly poured out by Miss Keziah Legh quite overcame him. He actually promised to call the following day, although he felt it was much better he should not. The temp tation was, however, irresistible She was so sweet and pleasant, so sympathetic, so unaffected, so unlike the other girls about, that he certainly must see her again. As he walked homewards, full of these thoughts, he ran up against Tommy Cutler near the Albert Hall. 4 Halloa ! been to Kensington square ? ’ Featherstone visibly shuddered. Tommy Cutler knew all about it, then, already. * Saw you in the Park, my lord. Understand now why you were so keen the other night about flaxen hair and bright blue eyes, and only seventeen.’ ‘ Don’t l-e an ass!’ cried Featherstone angrily. 4 He-e, hansom !’ and his lordship drove on to Brooks’s, ‘ Here is Featherstone himself,’ said a man, in the bay-window; ‘we’ll ask him. I say, they’re betting five to four you’ve started a yellow chariot, and were seen in it in the Park.’ ‘ Did you pick it up in Japan ?’ ‘ls it the coach Noah drove home in when he landed from the ark ?’ Featherstone abrubtly left the room. The absurd story was evidently on the wing. More serious was the next onslaught. 4 You ought not to have done it, Featherstone,’ said old Mr Primrose, who had been his father’s friend, and presumed therefore to give the son advice, ‘ You have compromised the girl seriously ; and she is such an absolute child.’

‘ Excuse me; lam not called upon to give account to you of all my actions ’ ‘You ought not, I repeat, to have appeared with her thus publicly. It was bad enough to take her down to Richmond ; but to put your arm round her waist openly in the Park— ’

‘ Really, Mr Primrose 1’ Featherstone’s face flushed, hut he retained himself. He knew gossip grew like a rank weed, and he wished to root up this scandal at once and kill it outright. * I may as well tell you at once; that young lady is about to become my wife. Under these circumstances, I presume no one can find fault with what happened this afternoon, which, nevertheless, is grossly exaggerated—that you must allow me to say.’ ‘ Featherstone, I beg your pardon, and I give you joy. I know something of these Leghs ; not over wealthy, but charming people. lam heartily glad to think this girl has done so well and so soon, la it to be announced at once ?’

* Well, not exactly at once,’ said Featherstone, thinking perhaps it would be as well to consult the young lady herself. Of course she would say * Yea but as a matter of form he ought to ask her.

There was another ordeal in store for him that same night. Lady Oarstairs could not be sileneed so easily as Mr Primrose. ‘ Well,’ she said—it was at a reception at the Foreign Office— ‘ the guile of modern girls passes all conception. If Mother Eve had lived in these times, the serpent would have had no chance.’

* What new proof have we of the desperate wickedness of your sex ?’ ‘I did not think ;you would fall so easily into the trap. But old campaigners think themselves armour- plated by experience; and it’s a novel line of attack.’ He looked at her in amazement. ‘ Fastness is no new trait in young ladies.* ‘ Nor in old ones,’ put in Lord Featherstone.

‘ Thank you. But no woman of my time ever went to the length of compromising herself as the most effective method of hooking her man. This Miss Leigh *—’ * I beg you will not mention her name.*

‘ This Miss Leigh,’ went on Lady Carstairs, bitterly host'lc still, ‘ although but a girl, might give lessons to all the veteran flirts in the kingdom. I’ve heard all about it.’

‘ All, and probably more.’ * Captain Carter saw you leaving the Star and Garter together ; I myself saw you in the Park That any girl could allow herself to be thus afiicheed with a character like Lord Featherstone ’

‘ I’m obliged to you. Lady Carstairs, for your good opinion; but instead of defending myself, I’ll take up the gauntlet .for Mias Leigh.’ And he told the story exactly as it had occurred.

‘She did it on purpose,’ Lady Carstairs said promptly. ‘ Came out on purpose to meet mo in the Park ? Made me follow her on purpose to Hamstead ? Made her coachman drink too much beer on purpose, and pressed me to drive back with her to town ?’

‘Not quite all that, perhaps. But it would be her game to get yon to go through the Park with her. Was it not at her express request -come now, confess—that y>'U appeared with her in the most public place in the town ?* Do did remember that Miss Leigh had insisted upon going through the Park. Could it be that she wished to parade herself by his side, and be thus observed of all the word ? Surely not; yet

‘You wrong her,’ he said chivalrously. Whatever he might suspect, he would make no admission that might do her harm. * All the blame in this master is mine, and mine alone ; and I am resolved to make her all the reparation in my power.’ ‘ What may that amount to ?’ e To asking her in set form to become my wire.*

‘ Lord Featherstone, you would never be so foolish! A more ridiculous notion I never heard.’ ‘ Noblesse oblige.' 1 It's purely suieidai, uncalled for, unnecessary ; yon must net sacrifice yourself and your whole life. ’ ‘ Perhaps it is no sacrifice.’ ‘Ami to understand that you have fallen in love—-at last? That this mere child, this chit out of the schoolroom, has brought you to her feet ? I refuse to believe it.’ ‘ I am in earnest, I assure you. I shall marry her if eho will only “Yes.” ’

£ Say “Yes ! ” * cried Lady Carstairs, "with ft scornful laugh; 1 what girl iu bier

sober senses would refuse Lord Featherstone ?’ Probably in his own heart he had little doubt that bis offer would be well received. This 'rather increased a sentiment of selfplorification, which was taking possession of him as a reward for his disinterestedness. That he who might pick and choose where he p-eased should throw himself away from a mere spasm of chivalrous generosity was perhaps more than was expected of him. Nevertheless, it was pleasant to do the right thing; and his satisfaction was increased as he pictured to himself this little Keziah, with her bright eyes and laughing mouth, full of grateful thanks for the honor he meant to do her. It was quite with the air of the grand seigneur that he presented himself next day in Kensington square. To his surprise he was not very well received. There had been a scene between Keziah and her aunt directly the former re-entered the house on the previous evening. The girl, without attempting to withhold one iota of information, had given her sunt a mil account of what had occurred—the coachman’s misconduct, the danger only averted by the timely intervention of a strange gentleman, who had kindly escorted her home. (To ho eiontinuod.')