LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IX, Issue 1291, 9 May 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

CUPID AT BEk. [Tinslcy.] Concluded. Now it will be readily understood that Mr Bevan, less astute than his wife -' but then he was only a man, you know'—was in some danger of forgetting the character, which, with his uniform, he had assumed. Indeed, now that he was really in the house whh h?s wife, the feeling that he had been badly treated—not by her, no; he would not accuso her, but by ('my mother in-law' stuck in his throat again)—overcame the consideration of the fact that he wa<s there uninvited—there to seek a reconciliation. And that was something like a confession that he was the party in the wrong. Very noble, of course, the spirit of forgiveness, which was really his feeling ; bat then few women look at the nobility of an act. With them it is simply a question whioh gives in; and the first to give in must, of course, by logical deduction (to the female mind), have been wrong In the first instance. The t.-aching of the mother was not altogether lost on Mrs Bevan. « Men are fools, my dear, if you only know how to make use of them,' she used to say. But to return to Mr Bovan, The feeling that he had been ill-treated was, as I have said, certainly gaining nscendenoy over his more pacifio purpose to let ' bygones be bygones ;' and Mr Bevan, or rather 'Lieutenant Fredericks,' was walking up and down the room, thinking of the spaech he should make to his wife when she asked his forgiveness—for of course sbe would do that—when the door opened, and a little lady in a Quakeress dress entered the room.

' Mr Newton,' said Mrs Bevan, for the reader of course knows it was no other—she, herself, by reason of her thick' drsb veil hardly able to see the gentleman she addressed, only that he was a sailor—'Mr Newton, thou hast been expected in the garden.' She was a capital mimic. 'A candid confession,' thought Mr Bevan; ' but as she mistakes me for Newton, and I've not been introduced, I'll keep up the delusion.'

'Mi=s Pelham,' he said, adopting Fred'a respectful half-shy manner to ladles, 'Miss Pelham, I am happy to meet yon here, for there Mm Be van would have been as well,' ' And wouldat thou not like to see htr ? ' asked this mimic persuasively. ' Like to !' burst out Mr Bevan, forgetting hig character—'like to! Yes. Tell me, is she quite well ?' And then he stopped, for, as Paddy would say, he remembered that he was forgetting. The eager exclamation had not, however, escaped Mrs Bevan, but she still remembered her pa't, and asked quietly, ' " Well " ? Why, didst thou not see her yesterday ?' ' Didst tHon uim.i <?>-aarnt it was ' 'Love!' " • • Love ! What is that ?' (This from her.) * What is it ?--nothing,'he said bitterly, and thinking of his wife. ' Dost thou mean after irarriage? What is it like before ?' persisted the Ettle queer Quakeress.

' Like !' he repeated—' like having something in your eye : you can't see clearly for it.'

' What didst thou dream of Mrs Bevan ?' was her next question ; her imitation of the Quakeress having one good result in serving to remind Mr Buvan of the part he had to play also. 'I had a message from her husband,' was his reply, very startling to the lady. ' Husband ! ' she echoed. ' What of him ?' and then she forgot her character. ' Only that he is coming here.' ' Coming here! Then I'll go and tell Mrs Bevan.' 'Let me come with yon, Miss Pelham,' he called out. But the pseudo-Quakeress had vanished, and the room-door shut quite sharply behind her. She had taken her resolution. True, her mother was out; but Mr Bevan, if he presented himself at the house, should at least, she thought, see her in her own dress, and dignified, as became the daughter of a lady who considered all men fools. On the stairs she met Grace coming in from the garde a, where Fred Newton had been addressing her as Mrs Bevan, and requested permission to introduce his friend, Lieutenant Fredericks. Mrs Bevan cut short Grace's statement by seizing her friend by the wrist, and, to her great astonishment, leading the way to her own room.

'Tell me all,' she said, throwing herself into a seat; • tell me all.' Grace wondered, bat obeyed. Fred —Mr NV wton, she meant - had beem most gentlemanly and highly amusing; had requested permission to present his friend, and declared that while he thought Miss Pelham charming, nothing could excel the grace and kindness of Mrs Bevan. 'At which,' concluded Grace, 'when he began to pay compliments I. ran away, and here I am.' Still waters run deep, we know*; and Mrs Bevan, though ehe was so quiet and 'nice,' and although she could sit a whole morning reading a fashionable novel, could also show considerable energy when aroused. She was so now, and further astonished Grace by quiekly removing her Quakeress dress, bonnet, and veil, and bidding Grace put them on. ' Grace,' she said, ' the man you were with in the garden was my husband 1' 'Mr Bevan ! Dcst thou really mean it ? ' 'Yes: Mr Newton was with me downstairs, and thought it was you he was talking to.' And then she confided her part of the story to Grace; and though her heart was brimful of love for her husband, she shut the door upon it, and said to herself, in her mother's own words, that she would ' stand her ground.' Gace had heard her out, and then said, with a beaming smile, • I'm glad he's come ' *Grace,' cried Mrs Bsvan, 'how can you be so cruel!'

' Thou shalt not scold me. I am glad, and so art thou, but thou'll not confess it.' ' My mother ! what will she say ?' 'Thy husband first, dearie; thy mother afterwards.' And the gentle little woman threw her arms round her friend's neck, and kissed her. (Oh, how I wish that I were young again, and had that Quakeress for a friend-or something nearer !) Mrs Bevan, however, would not quite yield to her friend's wishes, but determined to preserve the incognito which her veil afforded ; and when Grace had resumed her own d»-ess sgain the two prepared to descend. Meanwhile Fred and Mr Bevan had been comparing notes, with a result far from satisfactory to either of them ; and at, length Mr Bevan half suspected what the reader abeady knows to have been the fact— i.e., that iu the disguise of Mins Pelham's attiro he had really interviewed his own wife. Under such circumstances a man, on findj ing that he has been deluded, invariably 1 applies the epithet ' blockhead ' to him elf. The reader can decide how far. in Mr Bevan's ca»e, the epithet was deserved. Egotistical though a man may be, I doubt if he does not believe that a woman won't outwit him. Arm in-arm the ladies entered to the two friends, who, ' poor things,' entertained not the least suspicion of this farther change Consequently, Mr Bevan haviug been introducd to one lady as Mr" -Bevan, immediately i decided that she «' as not his wifoiviiss passed on hurray to be Pelham. 0 vore to Fred a moment jifSfSSm that the lady in the Quakeress dross was his wife; he was sure that his suspicion was correct. He knew, of course; he was not to be caught. It was a merry quartette which proceeded dowa the promenade to Southsea pier, to go ou board H M.S- ~ that afternoon, and

j not the least merry was the little lady who was called Mrs Bevan. And that little lady declared that she was bo fond of the sea that her one ambition was, if ever she married again, to have a sailor for her husband,— a remark which, though intended to cause her husband a jealous pang, yet failed in its effect, for the husband was sure that he should find his wife's face under the gray veil, and was attentive to the wearer accordingly. Grace herself scarcely said a word; and as for Fred Newton, he, half doubtful of the facts, viewed the conduct of Mr Bevan with anything but a friendly eye. Returning from the man-o'-war, it was proposed to continue the exonrsion in the small yacht which had taken them on board. Nothing, it w%s agreed by the ladies, could be more delightful. The afternoon was fine, the evening promised favorably; the night promised a lovers' moon, the company promised—everything, as companies invariably do. Would it prove a bubble company after all ? And so across the calm sea, with a breezo just sufficient to fill the sails, away went the yacht, taking the two ladies and the two gentlemen, the minds of one and all being in a state of merry uncertainty as to the identity of everybody else. The sun went down, and first the stars, and then the moon got up; a 'orescent moon,' a ' pallid arc of pearl,' or any of the numerous phrases given to the ' inconstant orb' by poetising minds. It ' raised its lamp above,' and looked down on that little yacht, and showed Mr Bevan supporting Miss Pel ham, as the tiny craft rolled and E itched in the sea. He had quite made up is mind that 'it' was Mrs Bevan. Was it possible that a man, known at his club as a 'sharp fellow,' cou?d be mistaken in his own wife?

Of course, under the influence of a moon on the sea a man gets sentimental, if not less pleasantly affected. Mr Bevan, being a good sailor, was not unpleasantly affected, and therefore became sentimental. He spoke of home joys, domestic happiness, love, truth, forbearance, faith, woman's goodness, and man's devotion ; in short, of those real or ideal excellencies which our better nature knows and yearns for, and for which we cry aloud and value most when we have lost them—when in their plae s remain only dust and ashes, bitterness and the darkness of the world. ' Florence,' said Mr Bevan to the little lady by his side, 'do you think you oan love me again, or have yon quite forgotten me?' He spoke this in his natural voice—a little shaky perhaps, at the moment—and he waited for the effect and the answer. Beth came in turn. Mr Bevan was not quite sure about a quiet little laugh, but perhaps it was only the wash of the waves under the bow of the boat. • I never saw thee until to-day, sir,' was the answer—the effect may be imagined—- ' but if thou art Mr Bevan, thy wife is on *±? other side of the deck with Mr Newton.' Bevan, as he looked £S* Grace little face, muttered, ' Sold !' Miss Pelham moved away before he had quite recovered fiom his astonishment, and Mrs Bevan stood in her place. • Edward,' she said, ' you ask me to forgive you, when I have nothing to forgive; but can you forgive me ?' The last half of the speech settled the matter, or I cannot say what might not have followed on the discovery made by Mr Bevan. Mrs Bevan, however, pleaded as a wo oi an can plead —mutely, womanly, lovingly ; and man and wife were united again. I could leave off here, but that the reader will demand to know something of Grace and Mr Newton; something, too, of 'my mother-in law.' Let us dispose of the latter first, i She reoeived, late that night, a letter, delivered by the boatman, informing her that Mrs Bevan had been fetched by her husband, that a yacht had taken her to Southampton, and that on the morrow she would be in London. A postscriptum, in a gentleman's handwriting, added, 'My mother-in-law will always be welcome, but I regret that our house has no spare room.' And Grace —dear demure Grace—what was more natural than that, when she crossed the dock of the little vessel, a band should be held out to assist her 1 Was it a sudden roll of the yacht, I wonder, which compelled that hand to keep hers within it, and an arm to pass round her waist to sustain her? What more natural at such a moment? What more in keeping with the place and the surroundings, with the lives of an honest man and woman, than for Newton to say, • Miss Pelham - Grace—dearest, let me tell you how I love you ? ' 8 And on her lover's arm she leant, - And round her waist she ielt it fold'; And far across the hills they went, In that new life which is old.' Ernest Cttthbert.