LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1458, 18 October 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

VALENTINE’S VIGIL.

A Story of the Day and Night.

By W, W. Fenn.

i IContinued j It was now quite dark outside, and the I room was only very dimly lighted by the j candles at the writing-table and the glow of j the fire. jt was a favorable moment for muring; at least. Valentine Grey seemed to think so, for presently he said only a little under his breath;

‘What a proud puss it is? Not a bit altered since 1 have b eon away, except to grow more handsome. ’|

Then he gave something very like a sigh, but which ended in a low soft y’nistle. It need hardly be said that M r Grey was quite at home at the hospitable house oi '‘the Dave a oils » every frequenter of- if), indeed, w '.s so, and tViy name was legion. People could yldt tqcrc upon no other terms. The easy,'unconventional, hearty welcome they received compelled thorn to put aside all formality. \ >ur hero, who came with a good iutreduction, had soon become very intimate at Dolton Gardens, after taking up his quarters in London to follow the law. Some eighteen months before our story opens, ho had unexpectedly inherited a handsome property, and having more mind for seeing the world than for ‘Blackstone’ ‘ Coke,’ had made that tour in the States from which he had only now th eo days returned. He was a tad,* handsome young fellow of eight-and-twenty, witherisp, curly, fair hair, and a soft beard to match—both new cropped rather close; for, according to the habit of the Briton when he comes back to Londqp after long travelling, Valentine’s first visit had been paid to the haircutter’q. His fair skin had been richly tanked by exposure to weather, and the contrast gave his blue eyes a deeper intensify and expression than usual. Altogether, the Davenell ladies had separately, but privately, concurred inthe opinion that he was much improved. Pursuing his musings after an interval, he said to himself:

‘ H’m, that couldn’t have been l|,savenell’s knock, or—yes—there is in the conservatory; be is ceding in that way. No ; that is not his voice, either; he is not in the habit oi tittering in that fashion—it’s, some of; the girls.’ He was in the apt of, rising tpv go. iaa,to the conservatory, when the, *pnp,d of his own name—whispered by one of the two soft voices whopo, subdupd prattle and laughter had attracted his attention—caught his ear. He paused and listened. ‘ She ip really very fond of Mr (trey, you kpQW 3. I am certain of it,’ said the first voice.

‘You surprise me, Fanny,’ said the second. ‘ No doubt of it.’ ‘ But then her manner is so very rude to him.’

1 0, that is nothing ; only she can’t help being dignified, and she only pretends tv, disdain all his fuu and nonsense, ijf ho would but lie a little more sori<gj.p a.t times, and not chaff her so much, he would soon see a change m her ; ipx, 1, say again, she is thoroughly at heart in love with him, 5

“ You fhink so H 5 ‘ fljure so, Shp b,a.s writing a valen

tine to him, and I have it in my hand now, and I am going to post it for her.’ ‘But, Fanny, you have been out once; mamma won’t like your going out in the dark.’ ‘ I sha’n’t be gone a moment; I can slip out here through the garden to the pillarbox at the corner : nobody will know. Put your hat on, Emily, and come with me—quick !’ The voices ceased, a door was softly opened and shut, and Valentine Grey was again left to his musings. They now assumed, however, a more excited character. ‘What have I heard?’ he said, rising.

‘ Those were Fanny and Emily, and they were talking about Nina and me. Of course it was Nina they meant. Can I believe my ears, that she is in love with me? O, that would be too great a slice of luck 1 But I’ll find out—by Jove, I will ! —and if it be true, she shall have her reward,’

At this moment the door opened, and Mrs Davenell re-entered the room. The light in it was so dim that Valentine did not, at first, observe the change which had come over her face. Only, as she advanced towards the fire, which ho had in his excitement, been stirring into a blaze, did he see that her bright cheerful expression had vanished, and that she was in some distress. Before he had time to speak, she began: ‘ Dear Mr Grey, sad —sad news, most unexpected 1 How can I tell it you ? Yet I must; for you will sympathise, will help us with your advice, I feel sure you will. I have as yet ; had no time to tell you ; but since you have been away, our Emily has been engaged—she was to have been married next mouth. He seemed such a good fellow —I can’t believe it—delightful, charming; lately started in business as a stockbroker with excellent prospects, but we have not seen anything of him far two or three, days; and now Mr Davenell brings home the news that he is ruined —he —Horace Wynne —Emily’s intended, I mean. His partner has absconded, or something, with a large sum of money, I don’t quite understand. It’s not generally known in the city yet. Mr Davenell doesn’t know all about it yet himself; but Horace says he too must keep out of the way, and has written a brief letter to Mr Davenell breaking off, or at least asking to be absolved from his engagement. Mr Davenell is very angry; and out of health as he has been for so long, it has made him quite ill. He declares that, if what he has heard be true, it is only an excuse, and that Horace is only using the disaster as a plea for throwing Emily over.’ ‘But,’ interposed Grey, ‘perhaps he thinks it only honourable, under the circumstances, to release your daughter, and not to bind her to her engagement if his prospects are ruined.’

‘ Ah, yes ; but this is not the worst. It might be as you suggest, quite likely, but there has come to light another circumstance which makes Mr Davenell’s idea only too reasonable. He didn’t tell mo how; but this morning, jast before he got Mr Wynne’s letter, he heard that he is not leading the life which a gentleman on the point of marriage ought to lead. There is a person—some woman in fact, to speak plainly—who is constantly at his chambers ; that she goes there every evening, and stays sometimes many hours. O, it will break my poor child’s heart! How shall I be able to tell her! ’ continued Mrs Davenell, with renewed distre s.

* Don’t tell her; wait till you are sure the report is true ; it may be open to explanation. Mr Davenell can call this gentleman to account.’

‘ Ah, yes, he would have done so directly,

I know ; if he were not in such ill-health, he would have sought Horace out at once ; but it has been such a shock to him that he is quite unnerved. Pray forgive me ; I must go to my own room and lie down for ten minutes —I feel perfectly upset. I hardly know where my wits are gone.’ And without waiting to listen to the sympathetic words Valentine Grey was beginning to utter, Mrs Davenell once more quitted the room.

Only a few minutes elapsed, however, before the door again opened ; and Valentine going towards it, in the full expectation of seeing his kind hostess, was suddenly met by Nina. ‘O, I thought— ’ he began. ‘ You have beard the sp„d Mr Grey?’’ ‘ Indeed, yes ! I arp, grijeved beyond measure. ’

‘ Grieveq,—l should think so I Are you only grieved ?-’ she exclaimed, with more tha,n her usual lofty and disdainful manner, whilst her dark. «?yss dashed fire. 1 I should have expected you, as such a friend of the fa,mily 4 to he something besides grieved; I should have thought you would have been burning with indignation—bur- ing to see Emily righted. I should have expected to have found you crying out for vengeance against this poltroon—this mean hypocritical) fellow 1 To have so unblushingly deceived a girl he professes to love. 0, if, Pwere only a man, I would make him. give an account of himself! I’pa sure iqy qucle would, were ho not sq ill.*

‘.But, my dear Miss Davenell, tell me—l am ignorant of the whole affair —do you really believe what ia said of Mr Wynne to be true 1 ’ ‘ CWfeainly I do. My uncle does, and I always trust him ; I always believe what he believes.’

* But perhaps it is only a temporary postponement that Mr Wynne desires—unt ; ’_ until—’

•Temporary postponement-thatS not the question! No, Mr Grey, it’* a paltry excuse ! I tell you again- don’t believe a bit that he is ruined J O, what might not a man deserve qf rcs who, would see this matter righted fi

‘ Mips Davenell, you set so high a prize I spoa the task, that you would find no lack of knights to compete for it. Let me but bear where this man may be met with face to face, and he shall give an account of his conduct, be sure.’

* Do you mean what you say, Mr Grey ?’ f My honour upon it I I’l\ go, straight to your uncle and get all particulars. I’ll find my gentleman, he may depend. I’ll not see you again til\ I havp seen him. If I don’t return tonight you shall hear from or see mo, the first thing in the xnorni ng.’ i She let him take her hand as he spoke. Ho pressed it to his lips, and was gone. ‘ For once he seems in earnest,’ she said to herself when the docs had closed. ‘He is not all frivolity then. Have I misjudged him ? Has be really some determination of purpose, some depth of feeling, beneath that fro,tiling nonsense which he talks ?’

She sat down in the very chair near the flortiere vines Valentine had so lately vacated. Scarcely had she done so, when she, like him, heard her own name whispered by some one in the conservatory. Whose voice was it ? Surely Fanny’s, talking to Emily, Nina was about to call out to them, when these words from Fanny’s lips arrested her >.

‘ I know he is deeply in love with Nina ; I sure of it.’

‘ Can it be possible ?’ said Emily. *lf so, why did he go to America, and stay away so long ?’ * Because she drove him away by her disdain of him, as he thought. He is come back much sooner than he intended on her account, 1 feel sure. If he could only be brought to understand that it is her manner, and nothing but her manner, I am positive he would speak ; but he is too proud to risk a refusal. One of those letters we have been to post was from him to her ; ho directed it just now while she was out o 3 the room I offered to post it for him. Ho said I might if I promised not to look at the address. Of course I promised, but I was obliged to take just one little peep at it, because I guessed what it was, and I wanted to make sure. I gueajod. it was a valentine. Now come and dress, or wc shall be missed, and shall be late for dinner.’

I'pfore Kina could make her presence, buowu, as she innocently thought, the two little fibbing plotters, who had entered the conservatory by the garden-steps, simultaneously with Valentine’s exit from the drawing-room, now passed out of it by the door into the hall. The face of the bewildered and startled beauty, who had risen from her chair whilst

the conversation was going on, now wore the most perplexed and dazed expression. ‘Am I in my right senses,’ she exclaimed aloud, ‘or am I dreaming? How strange! And can it be true that under all that nonsense the man has really a heart ? I begin to believe it. But, dear Emily, she cannot have heard of the wreck of her hopes. I must seek my aunt. 0, here she is j how lucky!’ Mrs Davenell at this moment appeared at the door, saying : ‘ls Emily here? Have you seen her, Nina?’

‘No—yes—that is, no. Come in, dear aunt; I want to sppak to you.’ She closed the door and went on, putting her arm round Mrs Davenell’s waist, ‘O, dear aunt, will you be advised by me 1 You have not yet told Emily ?’ ‘ No ; I can’t find her.’

‘Ah, then take my advice—do not tell her to-night. Wait till to-morrow, at least. I have my reasons. Mr Grey has promised to find out all about it—to go to Mr Wynne instantly, and make him explain, and learn his real intentions. He was but going to get some particulars from my uncle, and he said he would be off. He is gone by this time, no doubt. Wait at least till we hear from him. Come, let us go back to the study, and tell my uncle, and beg him to keep his own counsel for to-night.’ Then, hurrying Mrs Davenell out of the room, the two sought Mr Davenell in his den. There they were closeted for some half-hour with him, with the result that throughout the dinner and during the rest ot the evening no one could have had the least idea that anything like a calamity was overhanging any member of that household. Mrs Davenell accounted to her daughters for Mr Grey s unexecuted departure by a dexter-ously-worded story of news which her husband had brought home, and which affected some investments or something—she did net pretend to understand such matters—which he, Valentine, was about to make, and he had gone off to see the stockbroker without delay. He was sorry to lose his evening, but the business was important. He promised to return if he got it over in time. But he appeared no more that night. (To he continued.)