LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IX, Issue 1290, 8 May 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

CDPIB AT BE A. [Tinshy.l (Continued .) It must, howevir, be admitted that when the servant announced ‘Mr Newton’ as waiting in the breakfast-room, Mrs Bevan felt some little trepidation. She was certain, though, that she w uld not be recognised if she < arried out her plan, because it had been too dark on the previ us evening for him to have seen her So argu ng, with much laughter, yet with somethin" of a flutter at her heart, Mrs Brvan descended to the small drawing-room of the Southsea villa, and Grace went with har. The introduction was no sooner complete than Mrs Bevan, who had determined not to a'low Fred Newton time to examine at bis leisure the expressive countenance of the little Quakeress, proposed a walk. They were, she said, just going out; would Mr Newton escort them/ Would he? Why, it was the very thing he desired! Nothing in the world could give him greater pleasure. With a pretty half-uttered apology from Mrs Bevan, finished by a more expressive, but mute, appeal to his patience, the ladies left him while they went to prepare. Preparation indeed ? If Fred had only known it ! But he didn’t; he was a sailor, and innocent. He would have looked under a lady’s veil, but not under her words. To the ladies, the few minutes of absence from the room was a time of trial. The ex change of dresses had to be made, bonnets and thick veils to be donned, and the finishing touches put to the double masquerade. Meanwhile Fred, left alone in the rooms below, alternately blessed his good fortune which had led him into such a fair-weather port, as he expressed it, and cursed his impetuosity which had led him to make a fool of himse’f.

Whilst ‘ walking up ’ and * pacing down,’ blowing thus hot and cold, Fred saw the room door open, and, when he had expected the rentree of the two ladies, observed a gentleman step into the room. ‘I beg your pardon,’ said the intruder mildly, ‘ I thought my wife was here ? ’ Astounding question ! Fred felt that he must etaud on his dignity. He therefore took a chair, and seating himself with his back to the light, asked, ‘Your wife ! What do you mean, sir ? ’ ‘ I must apologise for the mistake I have made, but I was told that Mrs Bevan lived here,’ responded he in the doorway. ‘ Mrs Bevan ! ’ repeated Fred, a horrible thought coming over him. ‘Yes; she does. But who are you, sir ? ’ with an emphasis on the ‘you,’ aud a step nearer the intruder. ‘ I am Mr Bevau ! Who are you, sir ? and what is your business here? ’ demanded the other, and as he spoke he came out of the shadow in which he lal been standing.

Then Fred recognised him’ aud suddenly holding out his baud, exclaimed, ‘ What, Bevan, old boy ! So it is I What, don’t you know me ? I’m Newton, your old schoolfellow. ’

Mr Bevau, f r it was none other than he of the Albany, looking in the young officer’s face, saw at once who it was. Yet somehow he hesitated between kicking and embracing, and as he took the offered baud of his friend he repeated his enquiry, ‘ And what do you do here ? ’ Now Fred, iu the sudden surprise which his friend’s appearauce had occasioned him, had forgotten the awkwardness of his position in that house. Of course it was his friend’s house, which was not of much consequence; but, of course, it was his friend’s wife, and that was of great consequence. ‘ Confound it,’ he muttered, ‘1 had hoped she was a widow.’

There was nothing for it, however, but to take his friend into his confidence, and so secure co-operation. Mr Bevau laughed heartily at the narration, and readily promised his assistance, but without much thought of how it would be give a. He confessed as much to Fred, as he related the position in whi )h he stood iu that house, He.had come on a sudden impulse to look on his wife, but without the most remote expectation that chance would lead to a reconciliation He loved his wife dearly, he admitted ; more than ever, perhaps, after the six mouths of separation. He was sure she loved him ; he knew they could have been happy, but And then * my mother-in law ’ stuck in his throat again. He could scarcely tell his friend Newton that portion of his history. What man likes to, or readily does, admit that his wife’s mother is the gray mare of the household ? Buch a confession is a confession of weakness.

Fred tendered the proper amount of sympathy, and then suggested that hia friend should act boldly, and run off with his wife.

Mr Bevau would not hear of it. If h>s wife did not owe to be with hint, she could

remain away. He did not wish to be seen by her, but he wanted to see her. He would like to have talked with her, but— And then Kred made another suggestion. Would his friend be guided by him ? If so, he should not only see Mrs Bevan, but walk with and talk with her, and yet escape recognition.

Was it possible - this * consummation devoutly to be wished.?’ Quite. Fred whispered his secret, and the c mpact was made. Now the plan proposed by this naval lieutenant was simp’e and feasible enough. He would lend his friend a suit of officer’s make him shave off his moustache, teach him a sea phrase or two, and recognition was at least doubtful.

Mr Bevan made his escape from the house just as Mrs Bevan and Grace, having completed their transformation, commenced their descent to mystify the ignorant and and blissful Fred Newton. Full of the plot he had laid to aid his friend, he walked in happy unconsciousness into the trap prapared for himself.

Grace played herfpart well, and Mrs Bevan * thee d ’ and ‘ thou’d’ most winningly, Ihe afternoon walk was moat pleasant, the officer and gentleman most agreeable, Grace moat quiet and reserved, as became the married Mrs Bevan, and Mrs Bevan ‘charmingly nice ’ (to use a lady’s term) as the shy and gentle Quakeress. Equal to the occasion, and so as not to lose the advantage he had ob f ained, Mr Newton planned an excursion for the following day. The ship of which ne was lieutenant -was at anchor in the roadstead. The ladies must visit the man o-war, and he would be most happy if allowed to conduct them. The ladies would allow him, and he was made happy. There was no denying the fact. He was in love full five fathoms deep. As he left the ladies at the termination of the walk, he would have lingered over the parting, and he tried an extra shake of the hand—the little hand he thought was Grace’s; but it was quickly withdrawn from his, ‘ Too cruel,’ he murmured into the ears so provokingly hidden behind the drab veil ; and he mentally vowed himself an enemy to the Quakeress bonnets. Mrs Bevan received the murmured objection with a wicked little shake of the head, and then walked off with tirace, leaving Fred gazing after them from the gardengate.

It was impossible to say how long he might not have stood there, but that Love, though said to be blind, is not, I believe, alleged to be deaf tie. At any rate Fred was aroused by hf-aring the footfall of some person quickly approaching ; and as to be found staring into a private garden in an aimless mysterious sort of way would probably have attracted attention, he walked off.

I need not particularise the many acts of impulsion—all, to outside persons, more or less unaccountable—of which Fred was guilty that night. Suffice it that the strange new gladness which love is said to produce iu the human bosom made him do many odd things. Having hired a boat to take him to his ship, he suddenly countermanded the order, and made the man row him back to the shore. Then he went to the Southsea villa, and stared at the windows, watching with wonderful satisfaction the shadows on the blinds. As all reflected figures, however, carry little or nothing of a likenness to the view, it is not improbable that when Fred kiss ;d his hand to the shadow he believed was Grace’s flitting across the window blind, he ready sent bis message of love at the head of Mrs Bevan’s mother. BH eccentric return had, however, one good result—he met again his friend Bevan, whose very existence he had forgotten. Re an had obeyed Fred’s instructions, and had procured a naval-officer’s nndress uniform. Fred hnt him a cap ; and the next m >rning, when they met and stood side by side, tho two men might have passed for brothers.

Mrs Beaven, it must be confessed, had that same morning soma ‘ compunctious visitings of conscience ’ about the deceit she had practised ; and these were not allayed by Grace’s quiet ‘ I do not thiuk it was right in thee, dearie Dost thou ? ’

Truth to tell, the metry mischievous piece of masquerading had rather a dark side to it when the m >tive for action had passed away. But Mrs Bevan, woman-like, had looked on-y at the merry bright side of the picture—the dark or serious side she shut her eyes to. Figuratively speaking, she turned that to the wall.

Still with something like consistency though more from a spirit of dislike to confcssina she had been, or could be, wrong— Mrs Bevan insisted on ‘ the plan ’ being carried "out to the end. Fred Newton should again hold her hand, and with the same gentle pressure declare the pleasure he felt in again meeting Miss Pelham. Sr i'irs B vm laid her trap, and Mr Bevan, with the aid of Fred, laid his. Love, it is said, is very selfish; but in this case Fred, with the free open heartedness of a sailor, was willing to cast aside his own immediate pleasure in the hope of contributing to his friend’s ultimate happiness.

Mrs Bevan heard the announcement of ‘ Two gentlemen in the drawing, room ’ with surprise that afternoon. Who were they ? or rather, Who was he—the second one? ‘ Lieutenant Fredericks,’ who had accompanied Mr Newton Mrs Bevan * smelt a rat,’ as the saying is. Mr Newton had brought a friend to separate them. He wanted the lady to himself. I his was not at all to Mrs Bevan’s mind. It would * spoil sport,’ she thought. It would —yes, it would embarrass her if he— The word * proposed ’ was on her tongue. She bit her tongue and cut the ■word in half. Mrs Bevan determined to be dignified. She sent word to Mr Newton that she was in the garden —a sort of cold reception which Fred did not knowhow to take, conscious that he bad rather overstepped privilege in Introducing a friend to the house. He would go into the garden and see Mrs Bevan ; ‘ and, Fredericks, dear boy, be said coolly, ' wait here till I return ’ ‘ Wait here ! ’ repeated the gentleman addressed— ‘ wait here whilst you meet my wife in the garden ! What the devil do you mean, sir ? ’ * Phaw, don’t be a fool ? ’ laughed Fred. ‘ I can’t take you with me. You’re a stranger. Don’t forget your part. Besides, Miss Quakeress will be with her.’ ‘ True, I forgot,’ said Mr Bevan. *We are strangers, though husband and wife. ‘ Leave it to me. It will soon be all right,’ said Fred; and he hurried out to tha garden. (To he continued.)