LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1540, 24 January 1879, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THE MASTER OP THE GOLDEN

HOUSE.

[“London Society.”] { Continued.)

‘ I should not like to return hospitality that way,' I observed. ‘Don't see the difficulty,’ retorted Mr Simpson. ‘ I gave him a lift and he gave me a cup of tea. I don’t see why these circumstances should hinder the transaction of business.’

* Would you oblige me with the name and address of the clergyman, and the amount of the money involved ?’ quietly said Mr Bampfylde. ‘ Certainly, governor,’ said Mr Simpson, and he gave it from his note-book. * And we shall get our money too. Those parsons have lots of friends, and at the worst we can sequestrate his living.’ 1 observed that Mr Bampfylde wrote the name on an envelope, and before he went up-stairs he was writing in a cheque-book. ‘Do you mind changing your room, Mr Simpson ? I find it will be a little more convenient. You shall have a much handsomer room, if you care for that.’ Mr , impson modestly disclaimed any pretensions to a handsome apartment. ‘ Let Mr Simpson have Golden Knocker No. 5.’

By and by Mr Simpson took a flat candlestick, and retired to the privacy of hia own apartment. ‘ He’s got the Fool’s Room,’ said Bampfylde, rubbing his hands ; ‘ and he is a fool to talk and act as he does.

‘But, o,’ he added, in a lugubrious tone, ‘ that for the punishment of my sins I should have an heir like that! I should not mind if the fellow only had some touch of a noble ambition about him. If he wanted to get into Parliament, or oven wanted to write a book, or be a philanthropist, or only something. But to see a young man without any idea beyond the sordid pelf which I have heaped up being my successor and representative, it is moat horrible I Ah. Biogram is a wise fellow ! He always told me that I overrated my money, and Blogram is right. It is bringing my gray hairs to the grave with misery.’ And the wretched millionaire groped hia way miserably to bed. Chapter VI. THE EVENTS OF THE VISIT. The next morning I went out shooting, Simpson went with me. He had about as giod an idea of shooting as an intelligent Hottentot, only I should libel the intelligent Hottentot by the comparison. Nevertheless, I have no doubt that Simpson, in the social circles which he adorned at Islington or any other place he sprang from,

The next morning I went out shooting. Simpson went with me. He had about as giod an idea of shooting as an intelligent Hottentot, only I should libel the intelligent Hottentot by the comparison. Nevertheless, I have no doubt that Simpson, in the social circles which he adorned at Islington or any other place he sprang from, made considerable capital of his day’s shooting. Bampfylde did not go with us ; but he sent three keepers and some sagacious dogs, and be took care that onr luncheon left us nothing to regret in our absence from his own hospitable board. He set hia face steadily against the battue. But again and again we flushed partridges in the stubble and amid the turnip-fields, and there were plenty of pheasants, those lovely Asian birds from the Phasis, in the plantations. We got back wet, tired, and hungry. A cup of tea and a tubbing set this all right. The man who had attended to my wants—l had not brought my own servant, for the best possible reason, that I had no servant to bring—told mo that wo dined half an hour later than usual, namely, at 8 o’clock, and that company had arrived in the house in the course of the day. I was not sorry to hear that the company included ladies. The bachelor freedoms of Liberty Hall might bo very well in their way, but I was at that happy age when I could surrender the best of dinners for the society of pretty clever women.

But could anything in the world exceed my delighted astonishment and confusion when I was introduced to Mrs Egcrton and her daughter Eleanor ? Eleanor Egerton saluted me with careless grace and good-humor. ‘How remarkable, Mr Stuart, that wo should meet again, after the British Museum and Lady Alice’s party, in the wilds of Devonshire!’ ‘And you have really met before?’ said Mr Bampfylde, highly pleased and amused. ‘ Indeed we have,’ said Eleanor; ‘twice.’ ‘Three times,’ I said to myself; for I had never forgotten the conversation to which I had unwittingly listened on the bank of the Thames. pnd then we sat down to talk—to talk that indescribable graceful persiflage which a clever girl has at her command, but which it would be as impossible to reproduce as the foam of champagne or the echo of laughter. ’lhis might have gone on for twenty minutes, wh<u Mr Simpson entered the drawing-room, and was duly introduced by Mr Hampfylde What struck me with great interest and surprise was the astonishment and almost the dismay with which Mr Simpson received his introduction to Miss Eleanor Egerton. The proud careless look of the young beauty contrasted strondy with the mean shrunken expression which Mr Simpson curiously put on. That livid expression, the expression of envy and suspicion, which had characterised him at the first start, came out unmistakably and offensively. Unless I was quite mistaken, there was astonishment and apprehension caused by her appearance. I satisfied myself of the reality of my impression, and I put it down to a feeling of selfish alarm lest there c-hould be any one else making way in the g 'ol graces of Mr Barapfylde. I took Eleanor down to dinner, and (happy lot!) I sat next her. ‘ Mr Simpson seems to know you ?’ ‘ Yes ; isn’t it odd ? It really seems as if he did.’

‘ Do you know him at all ? ‘ I am morady ce'tain that I never spoke a word to him in my life. And yet I seem to have seen him somewhere before. 1 should not wonder if it had been in the Headingroom at the British Museum.’

By and by, when we returned to the drawing-oom, Mr Bampfyldc asked Eleanor if she sang. I anticipated the frank cheerful ‘ Yes’ of her reply ; but ccrtahily the old gentleman had never anticipated the brilliant music with which her voice Hooded the drawing-room. Mrs Malaprop says that in love there is nothing dke beginning with a little aversion. Mr Simp-on had indisputably sho * n aversion on the li-st evening ; but the next day ho appeared subdued and evidently smitten. A sudden thought had struck him : that he would swear et rnal friendship with Eleanor. The young lady, however, by no means responded to his manifold advances. Besides, 1 had an earlier claim, and I thought a better title, to Miss Eger ton’s good graces. In reality it was not at all a bad thing for me that Mr Simpson, in order to enliven his legal vacation, betook himself to bestowing amorous attentions on Miss Eg' : rton. In a 1! innocence she came to me for protection from what was very like a silly persecution And so we took long walks together. The good mater would accompany ns for a time ; but after she hud played the chaperone for about ten minutes her physical energies flagged, and she would dismiss us to the tors aud moors with two solemn injunctions : the first, not to get our feet wet; and next, not to be late for luncheon. I little thought what a tremendous mine that amiable old lady was about t,o spring on us. Wo were sitting ons day at lunch, when from the. dining-room windows we easily discerned a shortish but powerfully-bnilt man, umbrella in one hand and a light overcoat thrown over his arm, making the nearest cut for the front door over lawu and Howorbeds.

‘ Well, I declare,’ said Mr Bampfylde, ‘if that isn’t Blogram at last I’repeating the words at list with much good-natured severity. Blogram, without waiting to be announced, quietly entered the room, gave a nod all round, poked out a hand to bis host, and sat down to lunch as coolly as if he had just left it for a moment to see after the posting of a letter. 4 Where have you come from, Blogram V 4 O, not very far ; only from the Great Western Hotel at Paddington.’ ‘ Exactly. But where had you been before you reached Paddington ?’ ‘ I have been yachting about the Atlantic.’

4 I suppose you went to the States ?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘ Stop there long ?’ ‘No.’

‘ How long?’ 4 About half an hour to three-quarters. Went on shore at New got some lunch, and came off again. Didn’t want any of your beastly towns ; wanted the seabreeze.’

I looked at him carefully. The seabreeze*and the waves had certainly bronzed his face. His hair, originally auburn, was gently silvering. The most remarkable feature about him was the blue-like calm of an eye half closed in dreams, but which would at some time blaze forth with wonderful and piercing light. It was a peculiarity of Blogram’s that he would sit in an armchair in a billiard-room for hours without speaking. At times he appeared to be far away, wrapt up in thought; and at other times he would watch us all so continuously and keenly that some of us felt quite uncomfortable, with a kind of sensation akin to mesmerism. I could never find out what was the bond of connection between him and our host.

Mr Bampfylde did not himself know exactly. The bond had grown up gradually and very firmly. Blogram had not borrowed any of his money —had even laughed at his money, and refused to take any. Bl'-grara had turned up again and again in different countries during the era of his travels. He had saved Blogram’s life, and Blogram bad saved his life. At least so he considered. But now for the eclaircistement about Eleanor.

We were lounging in the conservatory late that same afternoon, the good mother and myself. ‘ I think I had better just say two or three words to yon, Mr Stuart.’ My colour mounted. My heart bounded. I felt at once that she was going to speak about Eleanor. If I could only make Eleanor’s mother my friend ! If I could only gain her permission to tell Eleanor all I felt I For I had been reared in an oldfashioned school, according to the exploded tradition of which the father or mother of the maiden ought in the first place to be approached. *Mr Stua.it, I think you are paying a great deal of attention to my daughter Nellie.’

O, how I bushed and stammered 1 I should have thought that a University man of my experience would have outgrown all that. But such was not the case* I broke down.

I managed to stammer out that I really did love Eleanor, and I hoped most sincerely that she did not mind it much.

‘O, I don’t mind it, Mr Stuart. As her mother, I am pleased that you should love and admire my girl. Only I must bag you, Mr Stuart, not to tell her so. I would not for worlds have her mind disturbed.’

At this I was exceedingly aghast, and began to remonstrate. ‘ Perhaps, Mr Stuart, you may have some idea that we are related to this rich man, and that he may leave ns his property. But I should tell you at once that there is nothing of the kind. Eleanor has this idea, but she is quite wrong. Mr Bampfylde has himself told me that he cannot see that we are connections, and he was kind enough to say that he only wished we were.’ * O Mrs Egerton, I am sure that is about the very last thing of all that I should think of ! I had no idea in the world that Eleanor would ever prove an heiress, and I am almost glad to hear that she is not.’ (To he Continued.)