LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume VIII, Issue 1058, 17 November 1877, Page 3

LITERATURE.

A REGIMENTAL MARTYR; Or how Gerard St. Hilary was driven into Matrimony. [london Society.]

{ Concluded .) He hung about looking for her, and at last saw her bright chestnut hair in very close proximity to Captain Gurney’s scarlet clad shoulde". Gerard’s blue eyes flashed at the sight, for Gurney was not a favourite of Elinor’s; yet here she was sitting in an out-of-the-way corner, flirting desperately with the man who had done his best to prevent his coming to the ball. He waited impatiently for the dance to end, that he might claim Miss Warwick for the waltz, and meanwhile amused himself by studying her face and dress, which was of fine silk, unrelieved by any colour. Her hair was plaited in a long braid, and hung far below her waist: and nestling in it were two white roses, placed just at the top of the braid behind the left ear. She wore no ornaments whatever; and the only speck of colour she had about her was a large bouquet of crimson and white flowers which Gerard had sent her. His foolish heart throbbed at the sight of it; but it sank to zero when she raised her face, and he saw that it was as white as her dress, and that she had, what he had never seen there before, a hard glittering look in her gleaming hazel eyes. At last the dance was ended, and the instant the signal sounded for the next one Gerard crossed the room, and, bending his arm to Elinor, said, * My dance, 1 believe,’

‘ I have given your dances away,’ said Miss Warwick coolly. ‘I sat out the two best walzes of the evening waiting for you, and you really must forgive me if I did not care to waste any more ’ And taking Captain Gurney’s arm, she swept away.

Gerard was thunderstruck. He stood for a moment speechless with rage and astonish ment. This was a catastrope he had never bargained for. No, poor fellow; he had expected to receive at Minor's hands sweetest pity and commiseration. He determined not to leave the room without an attempt at explanation; so he followed them, and began gently, ‘ Will you not let me explain V

But Elinor was too thorougly angry to listen to reason, and she faced him haughtily. ‘ Thank you, Mr St Hilary, that is quite unnecessary. I assure you it is not of the slightest consequence.’ With a frigid little bow she passed away, leaving Gerard with anything but a pleasant expression on his usually pleasant face. He stood and watched them eo down the room ; he saw Captain Gurney bend towards her, as though he were saying something especially tender; and the sight of that, and the sound of the light laugh with which Elinor answered it, were more than he could bear. He rushed out of the room, and entering the first cab, ordered the man to drive as quickly as possible back to the barracks.

‘Tell you what, George,’said one of his tormentors to another, ‘ I wish I was well out of this joke ; that fellow will go mad,’ * Umph ! Gurney is such a beggar for running an idea to death,’ Gerard reached his room in a state of misery too intense for words. He felt sick and dizzy, and was thankful that for once his bed had been left in decent order. Sleep, however, he could not. He tossed about to and fro ; his bed was hot and uncomfortable ; and first one and then another of his comrades disturbed him by coming along the corridor with clanking of spurred boots. At last he sank into a troubled fretful doze, which lasted until Jones came to wake him at six o’clock, for he was orderly-officer that day. When the gas was lighted, what Gerard in his agony called ‘ the fiendishnesa of the plot ’ was revealed : from head to foot he was as white as any miller. His man begged him not to have his usual bath, but be rubbed down with coarse towels as quickly as possible. ‘ If you get into water, sir,’ he entreated, ‘it will all turn to paste. I’ll rub it off in a few minutes.’

‘ You’ll have to be uncommonly quick,’ said St Hilary grimly ; ‘ for I must be off in ten minutes.

Jones rubbed and scrubbed with a will, until Gerard was quite clean and presentable, except on one point. That point showed itself with painful obtrusiveness ;it w r as his hair. That, and his particularly long yellow moustache, were as white as the driven snow. Jones got a couple of big brushes, and worked hard ; but though a tremendous cloud of the treacherous white powder came off, no perceptible difference was made in Lieutenant St Hilary's appearance. ‘ I don’t know what to do, sir,’ said he at length, with a great sigh.

At this moment a knock was heard at the door.

‘ Come in, ’ roared Gerard. ‘ Stables sir, announced an orderly ; * the adjutant’s out, sir, already.’

This was the last ounce on the camel’s back.

* Good heavens !’ gasped Gerard, ‘ Ask him to come up here.’ Presently the adjutant came up, amazed at the unusual request. ‘ Just look here, Harrington,’ said Gerard, displaying his whitened bair; ‘see what those brutes have done. I can’t come into sight like this,’ ‘ Certainly not,’ answered he promptly. ‘ I’ll tell Hilton to do your duty,’ ‘ And I say, Harrington, don’t poach, there’s a good chap.’ Mr Harrington, a ‘a gentleman adjutant,’ was a married man, and did not appro re of tie pranks wtucjj were carried to euob

cess among the officers of the 52nd Dragoons. So he departed without vouchsafing any reply to Gerard’s continued entreaties. He breakfasted alone and soon after ten o’clock the Colonel sent for him to the orderly room. ‘ What’s the meaning of this, St Hilary ?’ began the chief sternly. ‘ I couldn’t go on duty like this, sir,’ said poor Gerard deprecatingly. ‘ What in the world— ’ began the Colonel, suddenly breaking off into roars of laughter, as his eyes fell upon Gerard in all the freshness of a hoary old age. Then recovering himself, said stiffly, * This should have been reported to me at once.’ ‘ Please, sir,’ said Gerard, * I’ve been trying to get it out, ’ Again the Colonel was afflicted with a sudden convulsive choking, something between a cough and a sneeze. * Well, you had better report it now.’ ‘I don’t know who did it, sir,’was the reply. * My good fellow,’ said his chief, * I admire your principles immensely, but you don’t expect me to believe that you could be covered wi’h flour from head to foot without knowing who did it ?’ * Yes, sir,’ answered Gerard, laughing, ‘for they filled my bed.’ ‘ With flour V said the Colonel incredulously ‘ I don’t think it is flour, Colonel; it’s scented, and I think it’s complexion stuff, and that, you know, is made to stick on.’ ‘ Cmp ! Well, you are excused duty today ;go away. And Gerard went. After another brushing by Jones he went to luncheon with as unconcerned a face as he could put on, and for a few moments no one took any notice of him. Presently, however, Captain Gurney left his seat, and, coming behind him, took a leisurely survey of his still whitened locks.

‘ What have you been doing with yourself, my boy ? Have you been acting in private theatricals, or are you going to the lal masque or the rink to night ?’ Gerard answered never a word ; and with another attempt at chaff, Captain Gurney retired to his seat.

* I should advise you to let that fellow alone, Gurney,’ said the surgeon-major, next to whom he was sitting ; ‘ the chief’s awfully keen about it, and St Hilary had some difficulty to prevent peaching.’ *O, Jerry ’d never peach,’ said he carelessly, ‘ i don't know; but apart from that you are knocking the poor lad’s health up. * The poor lad’s four-and-twenty,’ laughed Gurney, with a sneer. ‘ He cannot stand having his rest broken, and you must stop it,’ said the surgeon decisively. ‘lf anything more of this kind occurs I shall report immediately. I won’t stand by and see any fellow’s health tampered with, and this persecution has gone on beyond all bounds.’ Gerard St Hilary sat throughout the meal in dignified silence, and presently his dogcart with his high-stepping roan mare was brought round, and he drove away in the direction of Elinor Warwick’s house.

The young lady’s anger had cooled down during the night, and she was repenting very bitterly her unkindness of the previous evening. She told herself that she ought to have listened to his excuses. If, as Captain Gurney had hinted, he had purposely avoided dancing the two first dances with her, why had he come for the supper waltz of all others ? He would never ask her to make friends again, and she had thrown away her life’s happiness at the instigation of a man she thoroughly disliked and despised. Poor Elinor I She did not realise, till she thought she had lost him, how very dear the six-foot, yellow-haired, blue-eyed Dragoon had grown to her. She sat alone in her pretty drawing room —alas, that she had no mother to share it with her! - and wondered, with a dull aching at her heart, whether all those happy days were past and gone, never to return. She heard a carriage drive up to the door, but so little did she expect Gerard that, when he was ushered into the room, she uttered a low 7 cry of surprise and joy, and went with outstretched hands to greet him. ‘ So you have forgiven me ?’ said Gerard, forgetting all his sorrows at the sight of her tender hazel eyes. Elinor hung her head, the painful blushes coming thick and fast. ‘ I was very rude last night and unkind, but 1 thought-’ she stammered. ‘ You thought what?’ said Gerard eagerly. f I—l thought you did not care to dance so many times with me, for Captain Gurney said you were lounging about your rooms doing nothing.’ ‘ Curse him !’ muttered Gerard under his breath. *So you thought I had forgotten you, did you, darling ? And if I had would you have minded much ?’ Elinor did not speak ; and, strange to say, Gerard did not notice the omission, for he established her in a low chair in front of the blazing fire, and, bending over her, said, in a dangerously gentle voice, ‘ My child, you w'ere very cruel to me last night; nothing else than the cause which kept me away could have held me from your side.’

Then he told her all his troubles, and showed her his still whitened hair, which, in her agitation, she had not noticed. Poor Elinor was in an agony of confusion aud regret. ‘ Can you ever forgive me ?’ she murmured.

* Yes, my love, on one condition—that, as a penance for your sins, you give me your darling self,’ ‘That w'll bo a curious penance,’ said Elinor, looking upwards lovingly. ‘ISo penance at all.' ‘ j./on’t be too sure. I shall be horribly jealous, aud exacting to a degree. I shall not allow any flirting, and shall probably make your life a burden to you,’ ‘I shall not want to flirt,’ whispered Eh'nor.

‘ Won’t you, my darling ? Will your great, stupid, lumbering husband content you ?’ Minor though the would-she thinks so Still.

.Amongst the regimental plate of the 52nd is a large golden pepper-pot, encrusted with jewels, and the engraved thereon is that ■if Gerard St Hilary’s wedding. It was given by Elinor’s wish in remembrance of the regimental martyrdom which had gained for her the truest heart that ever beat, though her„huiiband frequently assures her that he bad made up bis mind ages before, so that it only hastened matters by a few vwek?.