LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXI, Issue 1657, 12 June 1879, Page 3

LITERATURE.

IN A LINEN CLOSET.

‘ The light is not worth the candle,’ said Heyward Somers to himself, giving his cigar an impatient; puff, and glancing with an air of would-be indifference towards a slight, girlish figure knocking the croquet balls at the other side of the lawn ; a glance which, to a keen observer, betokened anything but tho calm stoicism which he persuaded himself ho had attained.

But, alas ! poor human nature! No sooner had ho determined that Kathleen Glare was the most fickle and capricious of her sex, and settled the question that a girl who had quarrelled with him f ur times in a week w s hardly calculated to make an obedient Mrs Somers in future, then he reversed his de. cision as rapidly as he had made it, upon seeing Tom Archer go down tho steps and join that perverse young woraau. Kathleen’s in sh young face was as changeful as he; temper; and perhaps a little of the pain and anger with her encounter with Heyward Somers’ prejudices had caused her, looked out of her great, soft eyes, as she tossed down her mallet, and said :

* Going for a walk, Mr Archer ? Don’t you want to ask me to go with you?’ Her clear voice reached the ears of the party silting on the piazza, and, after the manner of their sox, the women exchanged glances, which said, ‘ Did you ever hesr anything like that, my dear ?’ as Tom offered his arm to tho girl, and they disappeared down the path. Tho party were some fashionable folk, staying at one of the lovely towns which lino th i shore of the Sound ; and they carried their airs an 1 elegancies with them, pretty generally, and their plots and machinations as well Kathleen was there with her sister, a beautiful, heartless dame, whoso principal object was to the girl off as speedily as possible—sho bring one of those married belles who could brook no rival near her throne. They were orphans, and Mrs Wellfml had left Kathleen at school in Geneva, while sho enjoyed life iu Paris, as long as it was pos ible toleep tho girl in short cresses, and was by no means gratified as she should have been at the furore which her sister created last winter, when she had brought her out first iu Paris, and then in New York.

Tom Archer deserves a paragraph to himself, and as he happens to be a favorite of mine, shall havo it. He was one of Fortune’s favorites as well, for two maiden aunts had obligingly departed this life just as Tom attained his majority, had, with equal complaisance (having quarrelled with all their relatives, and finally with each ether), bequeathed their hoard s|to their well-beloved nephew. As f r personal advantage, Tom had none ; with the exception of a line mua cular figure, and a certain easy dignity of carriage, he was positively ugly. But he was a gentleman, every muh of him, an 1 possessed an honeat, warm heart, which other men loved and respected; a heart

which, if Heyward Somers could hav'tf purchased, to »dd to his splendid physique, would have made him iu reality the piece of perfection that most women fondly persisted in imagining him to be. Of course with his fortune and assured position. Tom w*s courted ; he was sure to be sought for his gilded vahre, had ho possessed the snaky locks of Medusa, Instead of his reddish-brown hair. And ho was shrewd enough to appreciate this He had a royal reverence for women hidden away in his soul; and that very fact made him die trustful of himself, and sceptical as to his chances of winning affection. Of late, Tom’s distrustfulneas had grown into a sort of hopeless despair; for, without any preparation or warning, treacherous Dame Fortune had thrown him into close acquaintance with Kathleen, and the result was that he had fallen as desperately in love as it was possible for a man to he. Between Kathleen and Heyward Somera there had been for two months a sort of tacit unacknowledged engagement. Somers piqued himself upon never having proposed to a woman, and this very boast had roused Kathleen’s dangeroua familia", and her vow that he should go further than mere flirtation with her. She liked him deadly, this girl with the impulsive,undisciplined nature; almost loved him—but not quite. She persuaded herself that she did, and this very afternoon her heart was penitent within her, and sho said over to herself the winning, ha’f sauoy speech with which she would soothe Heyward to morrow. Said it with ■ome E« ret amusement, too, for—Ah, well! perhaps sho was half afraid to use plummet and line in the shallow water of Heyward Somers’ soul. She tried to convince herself that he was all she imagined, and generously laid his short-comings at the door of her own faulty capricious temper. * Well,’ said Tom, breaking silence abruptly, and looking keenly at the downcast fare at his side, ‘ what is your conclusion about the matter ?’ ‘That I’m tho worst tempered woman in the world,’ said she, divided between jest and earnest. ‘ One of the worst, you mean,’ corrected he, gravely'. 1 1 suppose I should thank yon for the amendment,’ she said doubtfully. He laughed outright. ‘ Then you don’t think so silly of yourself after all. Miss Kathleen, what a child you are. Petulant, capricious, and—dear me. I do believe I was on the point of reading you a lecture.’ * It sounds like it,’ said she, turning such a pair of soft eyes upon him that the man was disarmed at once, ‘ You’re quite right; but nobody thinks me such a contradiction as I do myself. I’m a horrid little wretch—but I’m only nineteen, and I’ve no mother ’ What ailed Kathleen that day 1 Such a flood of pity for the beautiful, lonely girl rushed over Tom Archer that he was tempted to make a fool of himself on the spot. ‘ Don’t, Kathleen,’ he said, wincing as if under a blow, ‘ I want to help you—may I, darling ?’ The last word tumbled out" almost unawares, and the instant Kathl en heard it she knew Tom’s secret. But whatever she meant to answer him was never uttered, for a step sounded on tho path, and a voice behind them said, with a strong, foreign accent, * Pardon, monsieur ; is the residenc of M. Paul Macdonald near at band ?’ Tom turned about, looked at the questioner, stared, and was so struck with the stranger’s appearance that he stood] dumb for half a minute He was a Frenchman or an Italian, it was "difficult to determine which, of slight but elegant figure, and a face of absolute and perfect beauty. The eyes that glanced so carelessly at Tom were the long, lovely, almond eyes of the Southern races, liquid and expressive; certainly, there seemed no reason for the sudden distrust that came over Tom, or the half-defined idea that he bad seen the face before, with differenUsurroundings. ‘ The Macdmaids,’said Tom, but he was interrupted by Kathleen’s low exclamation— ‘ Victor!’ The stringer made a step toward her, then drew back, bowing courteously, but coldly, ‘ Mademoiselle mistakes,’ he said, gently fixing his hard eyes on the girl’s white face, with a meaning look. The blood rushed into Kathleen’s cheeks as quickly as it had left them. ‘ I certainly have no reason or desire of renewing mv acquaintance with M. le Comte do Valdor,’ she said rapidly, in French. ‘ What folly t’ said the stranger, in Italian, with a barely perceptible glance in direction of Tom Archer. ‘ Have you learned no discretion, cara ? Present me to thy friend, amazed.’ There was a shade of command in the voice, which made Tom long to knock him down; he roticed that Kathleen’s hand trembled as she raised her handkerchief to her lips. ‘I be; Mr Archer’s pardon,’ she said, with a bitter smile; * lot me present the Comte de Valdor, an acquaintance of mine at Geneva, I have altered so much as to be beyond his recognition.” * Mademoiselle must be more generous to my stupidity,’ said tho Frenchman, bowing in response to Tom’s rather stiff salutation. ‘ I am of men the most miserable at my (jaucherie. Monsieur, intercede pardon for me.’ ‘ Are you going to visit tho Macdonalds, Comte ?’ said Kathleen, brusquely. ‘ I hate that honor,’ returned the imperturbable stranger, ‘ Then may I beg you to excuse Mr Archer and me ? The house is just before you ; wo will resume our walk ’ Nothing could exceed the haughty insolence of her tone. Tom glanced at the girl in perfect amazement. But there was no resentment in Valdor’s polite acceptance of his dismissal ; indeed, Tom could have sworn he saw lurking amusement iu hia smile, as he left them. ‘ I don’t know what to say to yon, Mr Archer,’began Kathleen, hurriedly. ‘Yon are thinking all sorts of dreadful things of me, no doubt.’ ‘ No,’ said Tom, quietly. * But I am sorry that yen did not, know that I speak Italian almost as well as I do French’, Kathleen’s color eh n «d * I hate that man !’ aho cried passionately. For a moment she half resolved to tell Tom tho whole story of her acquaintance with Valdor; then she remembered Heyward Somers, and felt instinctively that she had no right to make a confidant of anv man bub him, so she drew a long breath, and began again. * I knew him at Geneva when I was at school,’she said. ‘ Mr Archer, please don’t look so pained I’m in a dreadfully false position. I can’t explain it. Do have a little faith in me.’ Her voice trembled; she looked so childish in her distress that Tom felt more desperately iu love than ever, ‘ I won't ask you a question,’ ho said. ‘But that fellow looks troublesome. Promise me, if there is anything I can do to help you, you will let mo know?’ And Kathleen promised, and then they went back to tho house, and found Valdor installed conffortahly on the piazza, devoting himself to Mrs Macdonald. Victor, seventh Comte de Valdor, was a thoroughly bad, unprincipled man. His ancient name give him the entne into tho first circles in Paris, and the honeat Paul Macdonald had met him, and been so charmed with his fascinating manners and handsome face, that he had given Valdor a b’uff, hearty invitation to visit him in America, Ai d tho time had come now when Valdor could not retrieve his ruined fortunes by a grand coupe, so he bethought himself of tho beautiful young girl whom fate had been cruel enough to throw iu his way one summer at Geneva, and about whoso charms hung a rumor of heiress-ship. Kathleen would have opened her innocent brown eyes in wonderment could she have seen tho triumphant amiie with which Valdor placed in his trunk a little packet of six letters, written in her pretty school-girl hand, and tied with a bit of rose-colored libbon. But before three days had passed, Kathleen began to feel as if a net was closing around her. Somers had thought better of quarrelling with her, and was only too eager to be reconciled when ho saw Valdor’a deTotioi, [who, with the prestige of his Parisian success, and the aroma of a title to drive the woman crazy with, bid fair to cast the all conquering Homers into the background. Valdor admitted that he had met Kathleen abroad, and looked such unutterable mysteries when he said it, that Somers was seized with a frantic fit of jealousy.

What hus’ness ha'l the Frenchman to be hanging over her chair, and usurping his' place ? Try, as Kathleen did. to avert the sterm, it came at last; and it gwas a far i W 'Be afliair than even she anticipated. The Van Dcusens were to have a fete, and as the Van Deusens were very grand people, their fete was to be totally unlike any other feie the human mind ever conceived. It wan an afternoon affair, with a ball in the evening, and as the places were fifteen miles apvt, the entiie party of the Macdonalds were asked to stay all night, in the Via Deusen mansion, Kathleen was not as much impress’d with the honor as she should have be' n ; indeed, her remembrance of that ponderous family in Washington, last winter, Was not calculated to raise her spirits to any undue height; but she owed it to herself to appear at her best ; and she did so, blooming out into surpassing beauty at the ball There were three scions of the house of Von Deusen, each more lank, ponderous, and ungainly than any other variety of the human species, snd Wilhelm, the nuperlativ degree of the trio, elected to open the dancing with Miss Clare; a proceeding which struck horror to the soul of mamma Van Deusen, who hated Mrs Wellfori or. dially, and included Kathleen in that charm, ing sentiment, to a less degree. And Wil* helm was so ponderous that the girl actually gave Valdor a gracious smile, when, he camo toward her at the end of the dance —a smile which V*ldor chose to interpret in a totally wrong sense. She realised how imprudent she had been, when tho found herself waltzing with him—a proceeding which she had carefully declined hitherto. His triumph shone in his eyes, and terrified her ; she stopped abruptly, and pleaded fatigue. ‘There are lights in the conservatory,’ Valdor said, softly, leading her in that direc“ tion ; and before she hardly realised his purpose, he was pouring an impassioned avowal of love in Iter ear. ‘ComtoValdor,’ she said,haughtily, ‘this is very unnecessary, and very ridiculous as well. You are nothing, less than nothing to me. I don’t see how yon dare to presume on the school-girl days at Geneva. I believed in you then. I was even fond of you in a dreamy sort of way.’ A scarlet flush lit her face. She hesitated. * Pray do not distress me in this way any more. You have some letters of mine—’ ‘Well ’ Yaldor’s sneer was cruelty significant. ‘G« on Cara. ’ ‘ I wish you give them to me. 1 * And you really expect me to grant that modest request,’ said he, with a gentle peal of laughter. *1 do not part with those vi’amif, unless—’ * Unless what f’ ‘Unless to Monsieur Somers. Also, a little story of the evening on the lake ; quite a romanza ; is it not. Cara V The whole diabolical scheme burst on Kathleen with lightning clearness, _ as she realised how completely she was in this man’s power. She fell blindly into a chair. * What the devil are you saying to this lady, sir?’ demanded a furious voice, and, opening her eyes, Kathleeeu saw Somers in front of her. ‘Mademoiselle’s secrets are sacred,’ said Valdor, sardonically. * Heyward, don’t listen to him. Indeed, he has none,’ cried Kathleen, almost beside herself, * Comte Valdor, how dare you insinuate —’ ‘You will explain this to me,’ Somers said, raising his glove to strike Valdor in the face. But the blow never descended, for, with a frightened cry, Kathleen strove to stagger to her feet, caught Somers’ arm to save herself from falling, and fainted.

(To hfi rontinitfid )