LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1427, 11 September 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

MR. ASLATT'S WARD.

[" Chambers' Journal."]

In Four Chapters.—Chapter I.

SOMB years ago I was brought by reverse of fortune to form one of that vast number of women in search of employment, the thought of whom makes one's heart ache as cie looks at their numerous applications for situations in the columns of our daily papers. I had long been an orphan, but not a penniless one, tilt a great bank failure, such as have from time to time brought so mnch misery and embarrassment upon the middle classes of society, swept away my little all, and left me entirely dependent upon my own exertions for futtre maintenance.

As the shock conveyed by the news of my loss passed away, I was not in utter despair. I had been well educated, was a tolerable musician, and had travelled much ; so it seemed to me that I should have no difficulty in finding a situation as companion or governess ; and I strove hard to conquer my natural shrinkinsr from the irksonuness of such a life, and to became reconciled to my altered position Friends promiaed to help me, and for a time I depended their promises. But finding that no situation was forthcoming through their efforts, I determined to try the effect of an advertisement in tho "Times " I composed it with care, endeavouring to set my qualifications in their best light, and felt sanguine as to the result. I expected to have at least a dozen responses, and was disappointed at receiving only two. The first letter I opened was in a woman's handwriting, and consisted of a string of impertinent queries, linked to a statement of the writer's requirements in the governess she engaged for her daughters—requirements which 1 felt sure I could never fulfil; winding up with a request that if I felt equal to the demands of the situation, I would call at a crtaiu address in the neighborhood of Regent's Park. Such a lHtrr checked my expectations, and with some impatience I destroyei it. The ne*t Y,as very different. It was a courteously worded note from a gentleman, informing me that he was seeking a governess, or rather ompanion, for his ward, a girl of eighteen; and would he glad to have an interview with me, if I would, kindly make Fuch arrangements for one as would suit my convenience. The tone <f hU letter pleased me, and as ho gave the address of an hotel not far from the part of London where I was then residing. I immediately wrot«a a reply, naming an hour at w 1 ich oa the following day I would call upon hip

It was with not a little, trepidation that I set out the r»ext mornV g to fulfil my engagement, i, had thu vaguest ideas • i what I ought to do or say in the new position in which I found myself, and for which my previous experience had ill prepared me My heart sank within me as I inquired for Mr Aslatt, and was condncted by a waiter to his private room. Would the stranger bo a very formidable personage? I wondered.

The first glance at him was reassuring. A more benevolent countenance I have never seen ; and his till stately figure and genial though dignified manner, exhanced the pleasing impses-ion it created. He was not a you"tr man ; but so bright was the lustre of hi* steel blue oyes, so full of life and energy their glance, and his words and actions so quick and lively, that no one would have thought of calling him old, although his black hair was streaked with gray, and hi 3 brow somewhat lined by the caves and sorrows which come to all as the years pass <.n. My fears vanished at his kind reception, and I at once felt at my ease.

' I do not know whether the services I rerjuire will be to your mind, Miss Bygrave,' be said ; ' but your duties will be very light. I wish to obtain a sympathetic companion rather than governess for my ward, Rose Sinclair, a young lady of most lovable disposition, though high-spirited and, I fear I must add, rather wilful. The fact is she has lived with me ever siace she was a little child, and perhaps has been made too much of—spoiled a little, you know. But she is so engaging, so artless, so affectiodate, no one could bear to deny her anything. She has had masters and governesses in abundance, but they have seldom known how to manage her. She requires very careful treatment ; she may be led and guided, but she will not be ruled. She has very good abilities, but is averse to application. [ ! have released her from regular study ; but I should be glad if you could persuade her to read with you, and practise her music and painting, for both of which she has rare talent. Her position is a lonely one; she has no one to depend on but me ; and I am most anxious to find for her a companion who might prove a friend also. If you will excuse such a remark from a stranger, I will add that your appearance encourages me to hope that you would prove such a one, if you were willing to try.' Although Mr Aslatt offered mo a far larger salary than I could have expected, and assured me of his desire that everything should be done to make me comfortable and at home in his house I hesitated for some time before I accepted trie situation, for I ra'hT doubted my ability to contrd a highspirited spoiled girl of eighteen. Her guardian's partiality for her evidently led him to think bghly of the difficulties of the post he offered me.

' I think you cannot fail to be pleased with my ward,' he continued; 'she is of such a noble disposition, so generous and gracious; but as I have said before, she needs to be gently checked, and prevented from following all the impulses of her young and ardent nature. Ido not think you would find much difficulty in managing her, if you once succeeded in gaining her affection ' ' But if I were not so fortunate ?' I said inquiringly. Mr Aslatt smiled, and slightly shrugged his shoulders. 'I do Dot think we need fear that alternative,' he replied pleasantly. • But should my hopes be disappointed, and th°i position prove distasteful to you, you will be perfectly at liberty to resign it whenever you please.' I thanked him, and after a little more discussion agreed to undertake the office of companion to his ward. >arly in the following week I quitted London, and proceeded to Westwood Hall, aa Mr AsJatt's residence was named, a large country house, situated in a neighborhood not many miles from the metropolis. I found a carriage waiting for me at the quiet little station where I alighted from the train After a pleasant drive through pretty country lanes, where the trees often met overheard, Ave passed through some large iron gates, beside which stood a picturesque lodge, and drove through an avenue of elms to an old-fashioned mansion in red brick. The building formed three sides of a square, and in the space thus inclosed were flower beds of various shapes, brilliant with manylmed flowers, and in the centre stood an antique sun-dial upon a curved stone base, round which, as I afterwards noted, ran iu distinct letters the motto, ' Time is short: Death is nought; Love is all' I had ecarc ly time to notice the ge.eral surroundings of fie place, before the carriage stopped at the large oaken door. Mr Aslatt had apparently been on the look out for it, for he met mo with a cordial greeting before I crossed the threshold, and led mi into a largo oak-panelled hall which formed the centre of the house. It was a curious apartment. The floor, ceiling, tables, chairs, settee, were all of oak, and most elaborat ly carved. The walls were decorated with banners, shield*, swords, helmets, and various old family relics. Everything was old ; and I felt for a moment as if I had been suddenly transported from the nineteenth century, and carried back into the middle ages. But though the oaken iurniture was dark with age, the hall did not strike me as gloomy, perhaps because immediately on entering, my eyes rested on the one bright object it contained. A girl was seated upon the settee, whose bright golden hair and dress of pale blue made a deliyhtfu! spot of color amidst the prevailing sombreness. A large black dog, of rather forbidding aspect, crouched at her feet, but sprang up as I entered, and began to bark furiously. ' Quiet, Nero ; quiet, sir !' said the young Jady without rising, while regarding me with an intontness that made me flush. • Boße, this is Miss Bygrave,' said her guardian ; and at his word she rose and moved slowly across the polished floor to meet me, still surveying me calm'y and coolly with her large blue eyes, as if anxious to arrive at a correct estimate of my character and qualitications. She was tall and womanly in figure, but wore her long golden hair in a cloud over h«r neck and shoulders, merely confined by a ribbon, as a child's might have been. Though a beautiful girl, she appeared unconscious of the fact. Her regular clear-cut features were expressive of self-reliance and determination, without being in the least harsh and unfeminine. Her manner was perfectly self possessed, and her bearing slightly haughty; but it was not long before I discovered that undornoath that appearance of womanly dignity there was the simplicity and waywardness of a very child. ' How do you do, Miss Bygrave ?' *he said somewhat ooldly, giving me her hand, and scanning my face with a deliberation which I should have r»sented from anyone else, but to which I now submitted humbly, as if it had been the right of the proud young beauty who stood before me Then, as if the result of her scrutiny were satisfac tory, she added more graci' usly, ' I daresay you aie tired with your long drive; come, and I will show you to your room.

I followed her up tho wide staucase and along a corridor to a room overlooking the extensive garden which lay at tho back of tHe house. I was much pleased with the appearance of my bedroom. From what 1 had seen downstairs, I was prepared for an oaken chamber hung with tapestry, with gloomy recesses, hearse-like bed, and ancient furniture. JNothmgof this kind, however, met my view. Here every thing was modern, and even luxurious, and in such style as would havo suited the most fastidious taste. • I hope you will be comfortable here,' said Miss Sinclair.

'lt will be my own fault if I am not,' I replied, as I advanced to the window opening on to a small verandah, from which steps led down into the garden * How jretty the garden looks !' I remarked, l I sh-i.ll often feel inclined to walk there, I fancy.' * you must not think of going there after sunset,' said Miss Sinclair decidedly. ' Why apt :•' 1 ashed 'n surprise < Because Well, perhaps I ought not to mention it, for my guardian does not like it talked about; and yet you would be sure to hear of it some time or other, so I may as well tell you at ouco. The truth is, the house is hauned ; not this part, but the left corridor, where the rooms are very, very old. And the ghost has been seen coming out of the window of the Blue Chamber—which commuuicates with the garden, as ihia does—and going down the steps.' I was astonished at the gravity with which she made this statement.

(2b bs con inued.)