LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IX, Issue 1280, 26 April 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

—.— SUNSHINE AND SHADE. By F. Garrett. [Tins'ey.] (Continued.) Part 111. So Tom sailed away, ami Mary fried to re sumo her usual little c nploynii ms, nod ho find coo fori, for bis absci. e in her sowing, and small household duties, and cottage-visiting. .But somehow the sewing had never seemed so wearisome, or the old men and women so cross and uninteresting before. Was it because her heart was no longer in these matters ?

Jane, steady and quiet as usual, went happily on with her accustomed routine, wishful for nothing beyond it, and was, as Mrs Cantuare expressed it, ‘a great comfort to her mother;’ but she shook her head solemnly when her other daughter was mentioned, and said she was sure she did not know what was to come of it.

‘ I wish we bad never met that young man at York,’ mused the aggrieved lady. ‘ What need was there for us to go sight seeing ? We are far too old to cure for that, kind ot thing; and as for the girls, they are much better to live quietly here, where they have everything they can possibly want, and are out of the way of the temptations of tho world.’

And so even tho occasional amusements which would have obliged Mr and Mrs Can tor,re to leave their own fireside were dropped; and as the schoolboy brothers were at their lessons again, and there were no neighbours intimate enough to offer to escort the girls, they led a most quiet monotonous life. Not by any means a healthy one, however ; for excitement of some kind is essential to carry off the superfluous energy of vouth ; and when tho tide of slroi g up-springing life is allowed no outlet, hut dammed up unnaturally in one small basin, the chances are it wilt break out at last, in a raging flood, which respects few barriers. , p

June lived on in this quiet way tolerably contented ; but Miry grew restless a< d angry and fretful as she heard of the amusements she might not share. Mr Cantuare, however, highly approved of his wife’s method of training her daughters. But then he was a man in whom the fires of youth were tempered by the growing weight of years, and so lung ns he could do just as ho liked he really cared little how it fared with any one else. He was, indeed, a republican abroad, but a d spot —and a despot of an especially aggravating kind—at. home. One or > w>i letters came from Tom ' nut n at to'erably long int rvals ; for his ship was by this time on he high seas, and thirty years ago postal arrangements had not attained their present perfection But these i' ttera cheer-d Mary wonderfully for a time, untd anx ety about her lover and home troubles dept eased her again. So all through that weary winter the household at Donnerbrook went on iu its accustomed routine. After a while, however, no further letters came from the young sailor; and Mary’s face gnw sad and old before its titna as she watched day by day for the post in an agony of expedition.

‘ Papa,’ she said one day, when she hnd sought her father alone in his study, * wil 1 you let me go away from home for a while? 1 et me be a governess, or a companion or I don't care what, so that I have s cnething to do, and can escape this eternal thinkiug and m notony,’

But M>* Cantuare, who lud never been troubled with a heart ache, and knew nothing of true unfulfilled love, was deaf even to that pathetic appeal. ' I am surprised any child of mine should so rebel against the decrees of Prov deuce >uch au idea is not to be ente»tained for a moment. Go back t > your wrk and your Jong neglected duties Mary, and try to’find your happiness iu making others happy. Such a discontented spirit as yon cherish can omy produce misery.’ Mr ■ anluaye told his wife of this short conversation.

‘Let her alone’ counselled her mother. ‘ We must have patience ; and if she hears neither of nor from him. she will forget Mr uiit'm by and by. Besides, I beard to-day that Mr Dodson was home again. I sk him over here. He will soon distract her thoughts.’

But before Mr Cantuare could act upon his wife’s advice Mr Dodson preset ted himself, without irritation, at Donnerbrook House. News travels fast in the country, and almost ao aoon «s he reached h >me he heard of Miss Mary’s engagement. Now many people re quire the stimulus of 10-s to incite them to active exertion. Ti e 1 moment Mr Dodson felt he had a rival he determined that the former possibility had become a necessity, and hq resolved to try and snatch the prize he had failed to win

The tall powerful man of about five andforty, over whose solemn, yet determined, face a smile >'arely passed, set his lips in iron resolve as he was shown into Mr Cantuare’s study, and, wasting no time in pielimiuary remarks, at once to the object of his visit.

‘ J have ridden over immediately to see you,’ he said, ‘ because 1 heard last night of Miss Mary’s engagement. I suppose 1 ought to congratulate you.’ ‘Ahem! well, I don’t know. I cannot say it is a great satisfaction to me.’

A grim g'ost of a smile passed over the visitor’s features.

‘ You don’t like the young man, then',? ‘ Ah, ah, 1 really know nothing against him ; bat he is a naval officer, and as such leads a very wandering dfe, and—and—in fact, I had other views for my daughter. ’ * And so I may say had f. 1 had hoped she would have been my wife. You see I apeak idaiuly, Mr Cantuare ’ ‘ Much the best way, much the boss way ; but unfortunately girls are so headstrong nowadays Mow when I married my wife— ’ pursued Mr Cantuare, shaking hia head solemnly. Mr Dodoon ruthlessly interrupted any p. sdble reminiscences. ‘ I suppose you gave your, consent to the match ?’

‘ I e. ul I not exactly withhold i«. The announcement came upon, me so suddenly, but Mary knows quite well I do not willingly c uutenauoe it.’

‘He gpvay now, is ho, t not V .asked Mr Dodcpn.

* Ves; 1 don’t know for how long, but personally 1 should not object if he never returned here,’ said Mr Cantu are, letting his irritation got the bettor of his pm* deuce.

* Perhaps if he ia away'a long time your daughter may forget him ?’ ‘ To be quite candid with’you, such is my hope.’

{ Then I shall wait awhile. I have an inward assurance she will some day be my wife. Time works woe dors, as you know. Meanwhile, should anything occur you will let me hoar ?’

‘ Assuredly, I should be delighted to receive you as a member of my family.’ And thus the compact was made, andJMr Dodsou rode away, this time without asking for the ladies.

From that, day, however, ha came frequently to Donnerhrook House, and was so kind and attentive to the girls, devising small pleasures for them, and bringing them pretty presents, that Jane at last began almost to iike him, and to feel she owed to him what scraps of brightness came into her everyday life. Bub Mary’s heart was far * over the sea,’ and the open praises lavished upon the visitor by her father and mother, and the gracious manner in wl\ic : h they always welcomed him, contrasted str ngiy in her mind with their behaviour to her ‘ sailor lad' ie. ;

Still wore on, and no letter came with the welcome foreign postmark, until ov<n the servants begun to wonder ‘ what had coma to Miss Mary, who used to be so b.Vthe and bonny, and now went about a ghost.’ ‘What’s the mattef- with you, my lamb?’ inquired the old, woman who had nursed her as a baby, whoa one day Mary called, as was her wont, at her tiny cottage. ‘ My heart aches, that’s all/ was the mourn* JvjJ answer* 014 Petty was the one pereoa

Mary felt sympathised with her in her sorrow, and she oiten went to her for comfort and consolation. ‘ Ay, my pet, and that’s an ache that’s bad to bear, we know. But all times get over, and Mr Hunton will be coming back in a bit the finest go tleman of them all. You must wait patiently, Miss Alary ; I know he’ll corno.’ But though the prophecy was comforting it brought no letter from across the sea ; instead, there were rumours of distant wars With exasper.it. d natives, and of wounded men, and at. last, full particulars, with lists of the missing and ad and in the former stood tom Hunton’s name Mr Cantuare best rred himself to make all possible inouiries when the-e tidings came, but to no eff ct. Certainly the young officer’s body was not found, but no one could account for him, and be had never returned to bis shi from the skirmish ; and even in Mary’s heart all hope at length died out. The news came the very beginning of winter, and she drooped and pined visibly through the short dark days ; but when the springtime awoke all Nature to fresh life and beauty, Mrs Cantu vre conaidere i her daughter had mourned sufficiently, and set about rousing her from her grief • ‘Mary, my dear, you must make an effort, she said one day; ‘this kind of thing has gone on quite long enough lam surprised you do not remember Who it is who sends trouble, and he-r it meekly instead of fighting against it in th s wicked way. You have a most happy home, but you are utterly ungrateful for all your blessings. Some day they will be taken away, and then you wiii r<-gr-t your conduct.’ i wo or three tonics of a similar nature were administered by Mrs < 'autuare at tolerably long intervals ; and then Mr f odson, when the days had begun to wane again, c n-idered the time had come for him to speak ‘ Miss Mary,’ he said, walking suddenly into the room where she was sitting alone, * I have something to s«y to you. v\ ill you Come into the garden with me?’ She looked straight into his face with dull passionless eyes. Instinct void her what would be the subject of his discourse, and she thought of her dear dea l lover, and hardened her heart ag -inst this man who would so soon tilt his place. ( to be continued )