LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1447, 5 October 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

SACEU'IOED TO AMBITION. By Stella. [“ Tinsley.”] (Continued.) C H A v T e r IV. The day after the ball was cold, dark, and miserable Mrs Beverley and Florence did not rise until towards evening, as it was then that they expected the Hon. Adolphus Wotherspoon to call upon the family lor the first time as the acknowledged suitor of the younger daughter. Notwithstanding Florence’s great fatigue she had insisted, upon her return in thn early morning, on entering her sister’s room and informing her of her great conquest; and though Madeline had bcjn disturbed from her first sound sleep, she aroused herself in order to congratulate the other upon her future happiness, and to ask sundry girlish questions respecting the personal appearance of the fiance.

‘Tall, dark, and handsome, you say, Florence, Ah he must he nice ! ’ said Madeline, as she recalled the recollection of her life’s romance, and one who had made such a lasting impression on her young heart, and who also might answer to that description. ‘Vice? Yes, of course ; but what a peculiar person yon are, Madeline, to ask such a question! He’s handsome, rich, and “the Honourable,” and I shall be the Hon. Mrs Adolphus Wotherspoon —there, think of that 1 Won’t you all bo proud cr me ? And that Fannie Claverton, won’t Igive her “the out ’’now! Oh, it’s glorious—delightful! ’ burst out Florence,

‘And when did yott say he is to come dear ? ’ asked the elder sister, for her senses had not been sufficiently awakened to comprehend all. ‘To-morrow —that is, tonight, at eight o’clock—lor it is now past five o clock. Oh, dear, do keep awake, Madeline ! I’m sure it’s no use my going to bed ; I can’t sleep. You should have seen Fannie Claertcn’s aunt! 01), it was better than all to see In r when I paraded the room on Mr Wotherspoou’s arm. Adolphus I must call him now. 1 never thought I should have been so lucky as to have gob him, Madeline ; but it was that new cream-coloured satin that did it ’

t o the girl chatted on, until, to her great disgust, she found Madeline was comfortably sleeping again ; so, giving her a push of contempt that was half intended to awaken her again, Florence took the lamp and retired to her own room. But it was daylight ere she gave up thinking of her triumph, and so she remained in bed until it was time to dress to receive her lover.

Instead of eight it was nine o’clock when Mr Wotherspoou was shown into the drawing-room at Myrtle Down, where Mrs Beverley was languidly reading the last new novel, I loreuce was artistically bending over a piece of woolwork, and Madeline was busy as usual making a pretty Shetland wrap for her sister. Mr Beverley of course was in his own room, and was not to be introduced yet awhile to the aristocratic Adolphus, in case he might take the latter gentleman more into bis confidence than would be pleasant to the ladies, the poor old man having now become as simple as a child, * Awh ! late, by Jove! Couldn’t help it. Mrs Beverley ; telegram from London—bad to write reply. How do, Miss Flounce? Bright and beautiful as ever. I declare ! not like most girls—pale and ugly after a ba’l By Jupiter! who’s this?—my—my—old friend ! The flowers—don’t you remember ? Extraordinary, very,’ drawled the Hon. Adolphus Wotherspoou, languidly stroking his long moustache and turning his lazy dark eyes full on Madeline’s face, that had suddenly become flushed, with quivering lips and tears starting to her eyes. ‘Old friend? You’re mistaken, Mr Wotherspoou—Adolphus,’ said Florence, with one of her sweetest smiles as she pronounced his Christian name; ‘that’s my sister Madeline. An invalid,’ she addrd, taking her sister’s hand in hers, and caressing it with unusual fondness. ‘Your sister, is it, though? Shouldn’t have thought it. How do, Mies Madeline ? Pretty name, by Jove! ’ and Mr Wothcrspoon, gracefully bowing, offered his hand to the poor girl, who was smarting keenly from those four thoughtless words that he had just uttered. ‘ Shouldn’t have thought it,’ Madeline repeated to herself. ‘No, of course ho shouldn’t have thought his beautiful Florence could have such an ugly deformed sister as I. I wonder if he will tell ? Oh, I hope not. How foolish of me to turn so red, and the tears to come into my eyes. How can I make an excuse to get away to my own room ? How noble he looks,* Poor Madeline’s head was full of such thoughts as she returned the how, but she could not accept the proffered hand, for her heart would have burst at its touch.

The Hon. Adolphus Wotherspoou had had sufficient experience of human nature, espe cially that of young ladies, to take his cue from the foregoing, and in Ms usually easy manner—for he appeared to be quite re covered fuma last night’s excitement—he turned it off by observing that there was a likeness to a friend whom he had once known, but upon closer investigation the likeness was not so great. Strange to say, his friend was an invalid also, and was passionately fond of flowers ; that accounted for his allusion to flowers.

Even this piece of grofs deceit was not enough to disgust ihe pure minded young Madeline, who wondering much at such a cool falsehood issuing from the lips of the idol whom she had cherished for long months past in her heart, involuntarily looked up and met the soft glance that seemed to her incapable of anything wrong. So she made excuses for him, and endeavoured to collect herself, and answer in a becoming manner whenever the Hon, Adolphus cho=e to address her, which happened pretty often, as this was a pastime entirely novel to him, who was blase to the core with the ways and fascinations of the daughters of society. The evening passed over, aud on the w T hole, according to Mrs Beverley aud Florence, had been a success, for the latter would never for a moment have thought of being jealous of her ‘far inferior sister,’ and Mr Wotherspnon had actually admitted that he did not admire Fannie CLverton’s insipid style of beauty at all, and had laughed an indolent kind of laugh when told that it had been rumoured that he had had intentions of marrying that young lady, blot that any such report had ever reached‘he ladies’ ears, but was coined for the occasion by the ingenious Florence.

The days flew by rapidly now, and preparations were commenced for the bridal trousseau, which, as the ambitious mother affirmed, was to be all that it should be, becoming the station and dignity of the Hon. Mrs Adolphus Wotherspoon. Madeline had tried her hardest to bury her old love, but whenever his hand closed on hers a thrill passed through her, and the old fond feeling was resuscitated. More than ever of lata had she taken to spend her time with her aged father, who lingered on ‘ out of spite,’ as FLrence would have it. The wedding was fixed for the autumn, and the younger daughter was agitating for a season in London before she settled down to manied life. Mrs Beverley had had many storms about the London visit, for, as she said, ‘ Florence seemed not to care about the others so long as she was provided for, and did not take into consideration the great expense they would necessarily be at in g<tting her married.’ Fo ; Florence did not think, nor did she care : all she thought of was e eating a sensation in the London circles, and if a better chance offered, why, dropping Adolphus and taking up. the more eligible. But Mr did not second the proposed visit to town ; in fact he went so far as to say that he should not be dragged about from one house to another, to stand for half an hour on a cold staircase, and then to he squeezed up in a corner with the thermometer at eighty degrees—he didn’t sec any fun in it, and then to have the only satisfaction of feeling ‘ confoundedly bored.’ Invitations poured in upon Mrs Beverley and Florence, and everybody received them with the blandest of smiles and sweetest of manners. Admiration was bestowed upon Florence by all the ladies, young and old, who anticipated another house to visit, when that young lady should have become the wife of the Hon, Adolphus Wotherspoon. Though in their inmost hearts they writhed with envy, yet Florence was the ‘dearest girl’ and ‘ most charming creature ’ that ever lived, and all vied with one another in paying her the greatest attention. But Florence Beverley was a girl of the world, and saw beyond their masks. ‘ Deceitful things! ’ she would say, as she crunched up some loving epistle, asking after the health of mother and daughter after any trifling amount of excitement. ‘ How Id a hate them all, and despise them ! Bah ! it makes mo disgusted with the world,’ while a scornful sneer curled her rich red lips.

‘ The world is not all like that, Florence/ said Madeline feebly; for of late, she had grown much weaker. ‘ Well, my world ;a, that’s all I know, Madeline, and so would yours ho, if you didn’t live h, a world of poetry and imagination,’ replied Florence, out of patience. { Sentiment is all very well i n its place, hut give mepractical matter-of-fact reality, which means in one word deceit,’ shoadded. ‘ Ah, Florence, don’t talk like that; one would think you were a disappointed old maul like—l,iko me,’ Madeline said, as a vision of a few wild flowers arose before her. ‘’.Disappointed like you! You disappointed Y I la, ha, ha ! Madeline in love ; how droll ! it does make me laugh. Ha, ha, ha ! ’ and Florence Beverley was again restored to good-humour at the comical idea of he: sisfev b.sicg ‘in love,’

* Who said I was in love, Florence P ’ asked Madeline, with a burning spot on her hollow wasted cheek, and a strange wild look in her eye. * Don’t get into a temper, Madeline. I never said you were in love. I was only amused at the very idea; ’ and again Florence burst rut into a hearty laugh, which she had barely recovered from when she exclaimed. * Well, if there isn’t Adolphus walking up the gravel path at last. Wouldn’t I give it to him for not coming when he promised so faithfully last Tuesday 1 wouldn’t I make him smait for it if —if—l dare! ’ she muttered under her breath, as she ran off to her room to ‘ get herself up ’ for her admirer. (To hr cnntiuved.)