LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1449, 8 October 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

SACRIFICED TO AMBITION. By Stella, [“Tinsley.”] ( Continued.) The last interview that Florence had had with the Hon. Adolphus Wotherspoon had been a week previous to the foregoing conversation between mother and daughter. That gentleman having called upon the ladies, Mrs Beverley had suggested his taking Florence for a short walk, as the dear girl was fretting and moping more over her late loss than was good for her health. t The Hon' Adolphus indolently assented, not with a lover’s delight at the prospect of a quiet tete-a-tete with one he adored, but with a careless nonchalance that touched the young girl to the quick, for in truth she was really sensitive, though she strove hard to stifle such feelings, as they were inconvenient.

They had been walking side by side for some time, Mr Wotherspoon looking * confoundedly bored,’ as he would have termed it, and his companion smarting from his neglect and coolness, when a person who had been following in their footsteps for the last ten minutes quickened his pace and in another moment touched the arm of the hon gentleman with a fat dirty finger, and with a knowing twinkle in his eye and a leer at the charming young lady, inquired if he had the honor of addressing the Hon. Adolphus Wotherspoon.

Florence was not too slow to notice a change come over the whole face of her affianced husband, and thought she heard a suppressed curse spoken under his breath, as he turned with a gentlemanly politeness to the intruder—who was a greasy-looking personage with a very shiny coat, and a tout ensemble that expressed a combination of fat bacon flavored with stale tobacco and washed down with a plentiful supply of gin—and whispered a few words in his ear.

‘ So, so—that’s it, is it ? And a very party little piece of furniture she be, too, bless her !’ wss the reply with another leer at Miss Beverley. Apologising in the most fascinating style to his lady love, Mr Wotherspoon informed her that —

‘ Business confound it I demands my presence in London ; and by Jove’ (pulling out his watch), close upon two o’clock ! Train leaves at 2.35 —awful bore I Most ungentlemanly —know it—can’t be helped—of greatest importance—future depends upon it’ —the Hon. Adolphus had never in his

life spoken truer words than the last—- * make my apologies to Mrs Keverley—there, confounded nuisance—really—just now too! Pray excuse me Florence —but —’ * I think I understand you rightly, Mr Wotherspoon, you wish to excuse yourself from seeing me home. I am perfectly willing to accept your apologies, and will at once return,’ said Florence, bursting with indignation and wounded pride She would have said, * And would wish to see you no more but reason came to her iu time, and she substituted * will at once return, ’ adding, ‘I suppose—that is, of course—l shall hear from you, Adolphus ?’ favoring him with one of her moat bewitching smiles, though in her inmost self she hated and despised the man whom she intended to marry.

‘ Oh, awh, certainly, to-morrow, as soon as possible, that is—and—and—Florence, my darling, don’t—don’t flirt with aay other fellows; remember Adolphus. Farewell, my beautiful 1’ And his manly figure bent with such grace as he spoke the last words in her ear.

In another minute the Hon. Adolphus Wotherspoon had turned the corner of the lane, the spot where he had made such an impression on the heart of the invalid girl Madeline, who, from some unaccountable reason or other, had been forced to love him with an all-absorbing and enduring love. Strange that such an unworthy object should possess the pure affection of such a guileless being. How Florence Beverley reached home she knew not, but immediately upon her return she shut herself in her room, and throwing herself upon her bed. burst into a torrent of tears ; for this last had been too much for her strength. To have behaved so rudely too, and in the presence of a stranger, a low looking debauchee, as his appearance betokened !

* Oh, this is indeed retribution 1’ she exclaimed, from the bottom of her heart; for she had of late began to feel the possession of that article. ‘ If—if—l had only been born a cripple like—like—poor Madeline, how much better and happier I should have been! My beauty, pshaw ! I’m beginning to hate my face, and have long hated myself 1 I seem to have been made for nothing but to be toyed with, and admired as one admires a pretty plaything. 0 itnmma, I blame yon—yes, you—for all! When I was an innocent child child you flattered me, and told mo I was superior to all others, and that I should have the world at my feet. I have had admiration, and many, many slaves to my will, and what is the result ? Those who really loved me, and would have made me happy, I scorned, for they were not—rich I Rich ! how I loathe the word ! I’ve sold my youth, beauty, and innocence, all, all —for money and a position in society, as it is called ; and now, when lam envied by all, behind the scenes I am wretched, and feel as if my heart must break. Oh Madeline, Madeline, but to have been you !’ and the proud and beautiful Florence again burst into tears, such as she had never shed before.

So she wept herself to sleep at last, and dreamed that she was Queen of the season in Paris, that maize of gaiety of splendour, courted and feted by all; and when she awoke, her grief had subsided, and she was once more her old self, such an effect had the dream had upon her. Hastily dressing, Horenco descended to the dining-room, where Mrs Beverly was awaiting her company for dinner. With aw eW carelessness she informed her mother that ‘Adolphus had met a friend’—a gentleman of couive— ‘ who had come down from town expressly to communicate to Mr Wotherspoon that his presence was absolutely necessary in London to-morrow morning—business of immense importance that could not be transacted without himkeeping back all unpleasant suspicions that had arisen in her—Florence’s —mind, and making the case present as agreeable an appearance as possible, and dwelling on the numerous apologies which Hon. Adolphha had wished to be conveyed to hie future mother-in-law. That one word 1 business’ was sufficient in itself to quiet Mrs Beverley, who regarded everything connected with £ s. d, as having a right to take the priority, and knowing full well, as she thought she did, that the interest of Mr Wotherspoon was now the interest of her much-loved daughter Florence, who would some day be one of the leaders in the grand world of fashion.

Chapter VI.

Mrs Beverley and Flore noe sat listlessly sipping their ca/d-au-lait ipi their private salon in one of the first-rata Parisian hotels.

It was towards the end of October, and their long-talked-of tour had at last been put into execution ; for they had had an entire break up of their ho nestead in the West of England, and had resolved to take a change by way of travellin > They had been in Parii two or three weeks, and t'lorence was delighted with th& sensation she had caused in the EJysbe. Most of the first JiOfiooa \yere open to them, for they brought with them introductiopsjroiu many of their English friends, who themselves most agreeable <o tho wi,do\y on the strength of her daughter’s engagement to the Hon. Adolphus Wotherspoon, who it must be remembered, was considered to be rich and aristocratic.

‘ How did you sleep Ja d night, Florence, after your numerous conquests ?’ inquired Mrs Beverley, proudly regarding her daughter’s somewhat pale face, for yeatertW had been a hard day.

* Oh, I slept very well, and dreamed all the time of that odious little French marquis with the eye-glass and that habitual shrug of the shoulders! I really think these Frenchmen are more stupid than our Englishmen By the bye, I heard somebody mention young Spanker’s name; did you hear anything of him mamma ?’ Florence asked, exerting herself to raise her eyes from the newspaper that she was skimming to look at her mother.

‘ Yes, I did hear something about him, but what, I really don’t remember; you know I never took any interest in the young man ; he is a nice enough young fellow, but I don’t believe is worth £6OO a year,’ Mrs Beverley responded, her thoughts always running on the same theme. ‘ But what is there fresh in the paper, Florence ? I feel like an exile, never having seen a newspaper since we left England,’ she continued. ‘ There, take it, mamma; and anything interesting you may read aloud. 1 can’t read, it bores me, and my head is too full of last night’s doings,’ said Florence, throwing the paper to her mother and taking a sip of her cafd-au-lait. ‘ Births, marriages, and deaths —there’s no one there whom we are interested in. Subscriptions towards the lifeboat services—hum! there’s old Miss Addington come down with her £SO, I see. Building of a new hospital; that’s very uninteresting. Sales by auction—bah !’ (turning the paper). * Money market—hum ! things seem to be looking a little brighter there. Law intelligence ; What 1 What’s this? The Hon. Adolphus Wotherspoon, Colonel Brindsley, Sir Sydney Pollington. Gracious goodness! what can it mean ? “ Charge against the Directors of the Nonpareil Mining Company, Alleged extensive frauds 1” ’ she read aloud, in blank amazement.

‘ What in the world are you talking about, mamma ? my brain is all in a whirl this morning, Who has defrauded the Hon. Adolphus Wotherspoon 1 Didn’t I hear you mention his name ? Perhaps he’s married; is he ?’ inquired Florence, not so meaningless as she would have had it appear. * Married ? no ; but quite as bad, I fear; can you bear it, my darling child? O Florence, do not take a gloomy view of It; let us hope all will come right in the end, ’ said Mrs Beverley, still clinging to a false straw, as was her way. * Well, I do wish you would not talk in enigmas ; if you cannot speak plainly pass me the paper, and let me see it for myself, mamma.”

Mrs Beverley gave the newspaper to her daughter, and silently left the room, for she could not bear to be a witness of the effect that that printed column might produce ; for this was not the first announcement, it having appeared in the London papers for the past two or three days, and the case was assuming a darker and more threatening aspect against those three directors who were mentioned.

Florence Beverley did not raise her eyes until she had devoured every word, and then she had turned to the summary, as though she would not lose a single syllable for or against the accused; then, with a sickly feeling at her heart, and a tightening across her chest, a dizziness came over her, and she was aroused by the voices of waiters and a chattering femme de chambre, who was busily engaged in bathing * pauvre mademoiselle’s’ head with eau-de-cologne, her tongue rattling on all the time.

*Ma foi ! but she opens her eyes, ses beaux yeux ! How now, mademoiselle ! pauvre enfant I And her maman, grand dame Anglaise ! Go then. Gustave, summon madame,’ exclaimed the waiting-maid, who had all a Frenohwomau’s tact in matters of this kind.

Rut Florence interposed, and requested that her mamma should not be made aware of the little mishap, saying that yesterday’s excitement had been too much for her (Florence’s) strength, and this fainting fit was the result; but she felt so much better now, thanks to Celeste’s kind attention, that she would not distress Mrs Beverley by informing her of her slight indisposition.

(To he continued.)