LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1417, 30 August 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

EDNA’S TROUBLES. [Anjoi ,y] It was a tine old ro./in, ami fitted up with ad the luxury that wealth could command Its two occupants, a lovely girl, and an elderly man, noble in form, but dark and stern in face stood under the full blaze of the great antique lam » swinging above their heads. They were discussing a long-dispu’c i question "0 d Mr Lydell, flaming with passion at the girl’s last words, burst out vehemently; * You are not my slave, forsooth ! Never Unless, my haughty young lady, you are under a heavy debt to me. Tell me what you are —who you are ? Tell me that, if you can.’ 1 he girl did not answer, f-he put *her hand up to her brow as if a pain was there. He resumed : ‘You are called Fdna Ivesly Hay; but what do you know of yours If beyond that? Answer me. Have not I been the making of you ? Did not I take you from—fr un—yes almost f om the gutters, and transform you into what you arc? You are accomplished. Whose money rendered you so? Whose but mine, ungrateful girl! You are graceful as a fairy. Whose money paid the mister that drilled you? Mine again! Y u are beautiful in your silks, jewels, and dainty lac s Whose money purchases for you those desirabie things? Mine, and mine only ! And wherefore have I done all this ? Did I not take you as my own child, hoping and expecting you would repay me with affection and gratitude ? '•' hat sort of a recompense is this that you are giving me ? ’ Edna Hay put up her handsdeprecatingly. It was all true. Grateful, deeply grateful to him she was : but she could not repay him in the manner she wished, ‘ My son.’ resumed Mr Lydell, ‘my only non, whom I idolise, has set his heart upon your baby loveliness, and crowned you with the honor of choosing you for his wife Think you, then, that I can allow you to bring misery upon this house from your childish whims ? If so, think it no longer. If you have not already learned what the sin of ingratitude is, It ar \ it now. My son’s will is my law—the love I bear him my only religion! Do you understand? Do you understand that I mean you shah become his wife ’ ‘I do not like him,’she gaspingly interposed. * With or without your consent, you shall become his wife, simply because it is his will. Theodore loves you—therefore, Theodore’s you shall be I To morrow he comes home. Be wise, and receive him as your future husband ! There was a dark threat in the old man’s eyes, as he concluded, that sent an involuntary shiver through the girl’s slender frame. But a determination equal to his own marked both words and tons, as she answered respectfully— ‘ Ir, is true that I am indebted to you for all that I possess of worldly good, and I am, am, Heaven knows, tru y and deeply grateful. Von bule ma look upon you as a father, and I have striven, as in Heaven’s sight, to give you all a daughter’s duty But, as 1 said before, I am not your slave. heodore Lydell I will not. I cannot marry. Oh, don’t you see that ha is not a good man? —handsome, gifted though lie is, 1 could not love him, ‘ ! >o you wish to he cast out ?’ ‘ Cast me out,’ she answered in agitation. ‘ I would ra’her die than link my fuc with his! Let me go out into the wov d and bat le against the poverty from which you rescued ixga—-/ ‘ Enough 1‘ thundered the old man, ‘ I will listen to no rnoie folly. My son shall have the bride of his choice! And there eliall be no delay. Next week-next week,

hark you—you shall be his wife. Your wedding dress is already ordered. Now go.’ Striding to the door he flung it wide, addmg in deep tones, as Edna passed, shivered, into the hall: ‘Ho! and remember that for the insubordinate there are means to compel submission,’ A swift change passed oyer the girl’s face as the door closed behind her, and it was with fleet foot and pant'ng breath that she sped an the stairs and to her chamber * hat can he mean ? What will be do ?' she gasped she dderingly, as she dropped into a chair before the blaming fire. ‘ Will tbev force me to marry him ? He is so wilful and so powerful ; and Theodore is deep, and unscrupulous as sin. Heaven help me !’ ft was a trying position. The girl, left an orphan when little more than an infant, had been taken to by this very distant and rich relative, John Lydell, and brought np as a daughter of his own. Of course she owed him all gratitude for it; she wished to be humble and obedient, and to repay him if she could by loving care : but she could not marry his son. bad always disliked the selfish, overbearing Theodore, who was ten years her senior; and she had heard the whisners of servants about his evil wavs. She had said to his father that Theodore was not a good man : she might have gone further into truth and said he was an essentialpr hid one. No; never, never could she marry him. And there was Malcolm Payne in the way besides—and Edna’s blushes name fast ns she thought of him. Mr Lvdell was in the habit of calling him that “ b a crparly secretary,” and would not. encourage him at his hou«e. Poor he mig v t he, as comnnrei to the riches of the old mas ; but Edna felt 'u-ohe loved her, and only a few davs ago. when they bad met it a dance, be wbi=pe ed to her, when holding her to him in the whirling waltz, that his salary was already quite enough for comfort, if she could os’y think it so, and that it would rise higher year by year She did not know verv much about this Mr Payne ; and they bad met a great many times—but it does not take many meetings for love to grow. Mr I .yd ell’s threat had terrili°d her. If he did indeed mean to force her into a marriage with bis son. how conld she contend against him ? Sitting bv the fire in her terrible trouble and perplexity, her hands pr p ß’ed upon her aching brow, the thought came into her mind t-h*t th<Te was only one way of saving herself—flight. Edna was young and inexperienced possessing an inordinate idea of M* Lydell’s power and of her own unprotected weakness : and it did in truth seem to the girl that she could h« saved by flight alone. More than ever did she regret that the home had no mi o tr n ss to whom she could appeal ; Mrs Lydell had been for some years dead. ‘ I will do it,’ she whispered at last to herself in her bitter desperation. ‘I will run away —and this very night. To morrow Theodore comes, and it nflodit be too late ’ In a commotion of heart that few people have experienced. Edna made h p r few prepira'ions, hoping to escape when household should be asleep. It was an early household generally : Mr Lydell was old enough to feel the need of rest. At ten o’clock Edna heard him come upstair’; and by the very tread of his foot, and the hang he gave his door, s’shc knew how angry ho sti 1 was with her. Every night at one o’clock a stage coach as she knew, passed a distant place called Hart’s Corner, on its way to catch the mail train at Braemont. If she could join that coach it would take her to the train, and she might escape all over the world then. Waiting and tr •mbling. sick and irresolute for this running away seemed to be a most form dable expedition in Edna’s eye®, little short of wicked, it seemed that minutes never warn'd pass. The more she watched the little 'lock on the mantel piece, the slower the bands appeared to move Should she stay and sacrifice herself?—or should she venture on this daring move? It was perhaps the thought of Malcolm Payne that nerved her to attempt it. When the clock struck twelve, she put out the lamp ; and, taking tbo small paper parcel in her hand, opened the chamber door softly. Listening, as well as she conld for the heating of her heart, she made her way softly across the carpeted laud’uir down the stairs, and finally out through the g’ass doors of the breakfast-room. So far, so good. Walking quickly through the garden, she sto’d within the outer gate trembling, under the friendly shadow' of the vreat trees, through which the sharp December w'ind was sweeping its weird song Eor a minute, eye and ear were keenly vigilant : there was no movement, no math struck to warn her that aught had been h’ard within doors. With renewed hope sho passed out to the high road It was a very lonely neighbourhood ; and Edna tremble 1 as much from (hat as from other fears as she w'ent rapidly along in the dark night, The moon ought to have been out, but it was not, The way was longer than sho had thought for—or seemed no. Hurt’s Corner was gained at la s t. and non° t o soon. She had bandy reached it when the stage turned the curve of the hiU before her. The coacnmau drew np. Two male passengers were inside, apparently asleep, Edna shrank into a c rner and was soon forgotten A long hour of fever! h desire to push forward more rapidly at last ended : she took her ticket for a distant place, haphazard, and was soon whir ing rapidly along Amidst the rush a’d thunder of a swifter flight, she matured her still somewhat indefinite plans. As a first step towards the accomplishment of these plans she had loft the t-ain earlier than she had intended; getting out at an insignificant station. It might he safer, she thought, than going on to anv la ge town. All that day E Ina w'alked ; not knowing where to go, what to do. < onscience makes cowards of us, and she feared to be 't is, however, needless to follow her through the tortuous j >urnoy by which she designe I to bailie pursuit. The sun had gone down, indeed, night long set in, when, heart-sick and weary, a gleaming light from a bandsome villa tempted her to seek shelter there. In truth, she was physically incapable of proceeding farther Entering the gate, she crossed the lawn to the honse. But the exhaustive effects of unusual fatigue and excitement t Id severely upon a somewhat fragi'e nervous system, and it was with unsteady hand and beating heart that she drew the be I. At its first vibration a deep mouthed hound came leaping around the avail a'd barked at her—but did not bite. Nevertheless, Edna was thoroughly Lightened ; and when the door opened, *•©- vealing a tall, raav-boned fema’e of severe aspect, her modicum of strength ga\’e out, and instead of the effective little speech so ca efully prepared, she gasped some unintelligible words, and fell fainting into the arms involuntarily extanled to receive her. The arms avere muscular ones and she was hastily borne into a charming little room, in avhich sat the?mistreas of the bouse. (To h c continued)