LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1428, 12 September 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

MR. ASLA TT ’ S WARD,

[“ Chambers' Journal.”]

( Continued.)

‘You do not surely believe in ghosts,’ Miss Sinclair ?’ I asked. ‘ You cannot really credit such stones ?’

‘ She turned from mo impatiently, saying ‘ It is easy for you to doubt their existence ; pmhapa if you had seen what I have, you would think differently.’ * What have you seen ?’ I inquired.

But offended by my seep icism ou the subject, the young lady did not choose to reply. She drew herself up proudly, and after inquiring if there was anything 1 needed, left me t' make my toilet. Vexe 1 with myself for having so soon given offence to my charge, I strove for the rest of the day to ingratiate myself with her; nor were my efforts unsuccessful. ‘I think 1 shall like you,’ she said frankly; ‘that it, if you do not 'intern re with me too much. I was dreadfully put out when cousin told me you were coming, for I like to be sole mistress here. By the way, how do you like my guardian ? I always call him cousin, although I do not at all under-

stand how wo are related to each other, I know nothing of my parents, except that they died when I was a very little child, Cousin has promise 1 to tell mo about them some d*y ; but ho looks so grave whenever I refer to them, that I fancy there must be something painful for me t > learn concerning my parentage, and therefore I do not intend to ask any more questions. But you have not told me how you like Mr Aslatt.' I was amused at her eager curiosity, and told her that a’thomh I had had so little oppo tumty of judging, I had received a most favorable impiession of her guardian’s character and disposition. She seemed pleased with my reply. * You can have no idea how good he is,’ she said ‘ But he is a man if strong prejudices, and it is hard to move him when he has once made up his mind with regard to any person or thing. Not that I moan to find fault with him, for as far as I am concerned I have not the least cause of complaint. I cannot tell you how kind he is to me, or how much I owe him. Ho is the best old darling in the world 1’ ‘ He is surely not so very old,’ I remarked, smiling at her enthusiasm. ‘Don’t you think so?’ returned she ‘He seems quite old to me ; but of course you are much older than I am, and therefore judge differently of age. Would you mind telling me how old you are? I know It is very rude of me to ask, but I always seem to do what I ought not

I laughed, and informed her that I was in my twenty-eighth year. ‘Nearly ten years older than I am,’ she remarked,’ ‘and fourteen years younger than Mr Aslatt; so you see he really is o'd.’ ‘Not old for a man,’ I ventured to say. ‘Yes; he is,’ contradicted my companion impatiently, shaking back her golden hair. At this moment Mr Aslatt entered the room in which we were sitting. ‘ I have just been thinking, Rose,’ he said, ‘ that if it is fine to-morrow, we might ride over to Ashdene. I daresav Miss Bygrave would like to see the old Pa ry there. —Are you fond of riding ?’ he added, addressing me. It was long since I had been in the saddle; but in earlier years I had evceedingly en joy d the exercise, and I told him so. ‘Then I hope you will enjoy a ride tomorrow,’ ho said. ‘ I think I have a hor-e that you will like, and Rose will lend you a riding-habit 1 I thanked him heartily; but Rose said decidedly : ‘I cannot go to Ashdene tomorrow ; you forget that it is my day for visiting the school.’ Mr Aslatt’s face changed, and a look passed across it, which I should have called a look of pain had not the cause beeu so trivial. ‘Surely you need not go to the school tomorrow, Rose,’ho said gently; ‘your visit is not of so much importance, but that Mr Hammond can manage without you for once ’

Rose’s face crimsoned aud her lip pouted, but she made no reply ; aud Mr Aslatt hastily introduced another subject of conversation. But her brightness was gone for the rest of the evening ; she replied shortly and coldly to her guardian’s remarks and flatly refused to sing when he asked her to do so. It was evident that her conduct grieved him, for the look of pain was more clearly visible ; but he showed no sign of resentment, and 'he tons in which he hale her good night was as affectionate as if her behaviour had been all that he could have desired.

‘ This is the way to the haunted rooms,’ said Rose as we went up to bed together, opening as she sp >ke a door at the top of the draughty staircase. She raised her lamp, so that its light rendered visible the gloom of the dreary conidor The air which met us had a c'ose musty smell; and the grotesque figures carved on the oak panels, with the sculptures in the disrance casting dim shadows on the opposite wall, had rather a weird appearance in the un certain light. Suddenly a door creaked on its hinges, and Rose sprang back, uttering a faint cry, and hastily cl tsed the door which communicated with this passage. ‘ I id you hear that ?’ she asked in an awestruck whisper. ‘Why, jou silly girl,’ I said laughingly, * what you heard was only the effect of the wind!’

She ebook her head unbelievingly, and replied, ‘ Well, remember, I warn you to shun that part of the house, especially when night is coming on.’ The next morning, at an early hour, the horses were brought to the door, and Mr Aslatt, Kose, and I started for Ashdene. Roso had made no further opposition to the expedition, and there was no t ace of vexation on her lovtly face as we rode off. She looked remarkably wdl in her riding cos tunic. The close-fitting habit of dark b'ue cloth showed to advantage the exquisite symmetry of h<r figure ; and the li*tie velvit hat, whose sole ornament was a heron’s plume, was very becoming to the fair face She w r as an accomplished rider, and controlled admirably, without the least appearance, of effort, the spirited movements of the beautiful animal she rode. It was a bright May morning, and the ride was most enjoyable. About noon wo reached the little t nvn of Ashdene, where we dismounted; and after partaking of some luncheon at the hotel, proceeded to view the ruins of the old priory wo found *o much to interest us that the aft moon was far advanced bef re we were ready to return. As we were walking cur horses up a hill not very far from h une, I saw a young man coming towards us dresmd in a grey tweed suit. As he came into view, Mr Asi*tt urged his ho'so into a canter ; hut hose checked hers as T. quickened its pace, and said reproachfully, ‘ The horses are tired, c .usiu ; we must not hurry them up this hill,’ As the young man drew near, he raised his hat. ‘Good afternoon, Hammond,’said Mr Aolatt, rather stiffly I thought. How it happened I don’t know, but just then 1 ose dropped her riling whip, and it fell within a few feet of Mr Hammond. Ho picked it up in a moment, »nd hau led it to the young lady, who thanked him most graciously, and even bent down from her saddle to shake hands with him. ‘ I was so sorry to be absent from my post to-day, Mr Hammond,’ she said; ‘but w r e were tempted to take advantage of this fine day for a ride to Ashdene.’ ‘lt w r as a great disappointment to the scholars nut to see you,’ ho replied; ‘hut they have no cause to complai”, for it is so seldom you are absent. I think you are, if possible, too devoted to their welfare.’ • That is my opinion too, Mr Hammond,’ interrupted my employer; ‘ and you must not be surprised if, for the future, you do not see Miss .Sinclair so frequently at the school.’ ‘I trust that will rot ho the case,’ exclaimed Bose indignantly. ‘ I see no necessity for changing my taints ’ She looked quite angry as she spoke, and I felt sorry tor Mr Aslatt, he seemed so agitated. Mr Hammond smi’ed complacently at Rose’s remark, and there was something almost supercilious in his manner as he bade Mr Aslatt 1 Good afternoon ;’ but the bow and. parting i lance he bestowed upon his ward were most deferential in their admiring homage. As we pursued our way in silence, the expression of Hose’s faoe plainly showed that she considered herself injured. Mr Hammond was a good looking young man, apparent y about thirty, though he might have hem older. Good looking though he was, his countenance did not impress me favourably. His dark eyes had a hard lo ik, in spite of their fine shape and lustrous hue, and there wore faint indications of self indulgence in the curves of his mobile mouth. U is manner was ea-y and suggestive of conceit; in short, his apf cavanco inspired mo with distrust. Perhaps the want of cordiality which Mr Asl.tt’s manner be* rayed, cjutrict'ng so vividly with Rose’s gracious greeting, may have given rise to this feeling on my part. Rose kept up an appearance of offended dignity during dinner-time and as long as she remained in Mr Aslatt’a presence. But as we were strobing in the garden after d nnor, she suddenly asked mo what I thought of Mr Hammond Guessing that she had a great liking for that individual, I was guarded in my reply to her query, merely reminding her how impossible it was

to form a just estimate of anybody in such a brief interview.

‘ Did you notice how rudely Mr Aslatfc spoke to him ?’ she next inquired. ‘ 1 observed that ho seemed impatient of the interruption,’ I replied; ‘but Ido not think his words were rude ’ ‘ I believe he hates Mr Hammond,’ she said quickly. * You carnot think how unjust he is to him. You know Mr Hammond is the village schoolmaster. There was no school in the village many years ago, when Mr Aslatt came to reside here, so he built a very nice school-house at his own expense (I must take you to sec it to morrow), and promised always to make up the master’s s ilary to a certain sum, For years I have been accustomed to go in and out of the school whenever I like; and when I asked to be allowed to give the children a weekly singing lesson, Mr Aslatt made no objection, indeed he seemed pleased for me to do so. But since old Mr Green died, and Mr Hammond succeeded him, he has changed his mind on the subject, and can’t bear me to go to the school-house. At first he seemed to like Mr Hammond so much; but lately ho has taken a decided dislike to him; though what poor Mr Hammond had done to call forth such a feeling, I cannot imagine. Cousin hss tried to persuade mo to give up my visits to the school; but that I am resolved not to do, and I have told him so. He also tried to got my consent to our removing to London for the season; but I would not asree to that. So then he could not rest till he had got a companion for me. 1 made no opposition to that plan, although I did not like the idea, for I saw he had set his mind upon it, and I could not bear to vex him. He is so good to me, and I ana not altogether ungrateful, though I do behave so naughtily. I know you thought my conduct very bad at dinner-time, for you looked so dreadfully grave.’ the glanced up to me as she spoke with such a pretty air of deprecation, so like a petted child, that I could not find heart to scold her. Indeed her captivating ways so fascinated me, that although I saw much to disapprove, I was disposed to be very lenient towards her faults.

[To bo Continued,]