LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXI, Issue 1685, 15 July 1879, Page 3

LITERATURE.

TEN DAYS IN LOYB. It was a cold night in January. People wore hurrying along through the blinding enowstorm, battling with the wind that howled and moaned out by turns its story of woe. Hugh Remington and his friend Williams, glad to bo out of the storm, had settled themselves in gown and slippers for a quiet evening at home. The shutters were closed and the curtains drawn, and on either side of the hearth was placed the favorite chair of each. Those friends had [lived together in their bachelor quarter for more than two years. Everything in the apartment showed refined tosto and wealth. Some said that it all belonged to Hugh, and that ho made it a homo {or his friend. No one, however, know this to be true. Hugh was quiet and reserved, seldom spoke of his affairs to anyone, never laid any special claim to anything,{but allowed it to appear that all things were equally shared. Aftsr the evening papers had been read and discussed the two sat talking of days gone by, of little episodes in their lives. Hugh was in a talking mood, and told several good stories of his past life; stopping suddenly ho exclaimed — * Did I eyer toll you of my love for the widow ?’

‘ No,’ replied William. ‘ Let’s have it.’ ‘ Well,’ said Hugh, taking another cigar and leaning back in his groat easy chair, ‘ I mot her in Paris.’ ‘ Met who ? ’

‘ Oh. never mind who. Be content that I am telling you the story, and don’t ask for names. I thought of her as “ the widow.” It is a sufficient title.’

‘Well, I won’t interrupt. Go on.’ So Hugh continued. ‘ I was calling on my old friend, Mrs Lee, and while waiting for the servant to take her my card, an old piece of bric-a-brac standing in the corner of the room attracted my attention. I got up and went over to examine it. While thus [engaged the door opened. I turned, thinking it was Mrs Lee, when, Oh ! what a beauty met my sight!—so small that she looked liked a child, large, deep blue eyes that came out from under a mass of light, golden curls, a small nose, a rosebud of a mouth. She was dressed in deep mourning, and I thought, as I looked at her, that I had never seen a more beautiful picture. She didn’t see mo until I made a slight movement that startled her. Coming forward, I said—- ‘ I frightened you, did I not ?’ 1 Yes ; I was not aware that there was any one in the room. You are waiting for Mrs Leo?’ And she gave mo the sweetest smile, showing a most perfect row of teeth. • Before I could answer, Mrs Lee appeared and introduced us. Mrs was making Mrs Lee a short visit prior to her departure for America. I was glad of that, for I should then have the pleasure of seeing her again. ‘ The evening passed only too quickly, and I arose with an apology for staying so late. Mrs Lee invited me to dine with them informally the next day. She said her friend preferred being quiet, so they would bo quite alone. You may be sure I accepted the invitation and was there promptly at the hour. The widow was oven more charming than on the previous evening. I longed top the

hours from rolling on. Haying boon in the habit of dropping in at Mrs Loo’s at_ all hours, my frequent—almost daily—visits wore not noticed as anything strange or unusual.

‘ Mrs Leo thanked me for coming to them in their loneliness, and tho widow would give me one of her sweet smiles, and I was thankful in my innermost heart that they were lonely, and that it fell to my lot to cheer them. So the weeks passed until the time came for the departure of Mrs Lee’s friend.

‘ Now, 1 had intended passing a month or two in England before coming home, but when I found that the widow was to return in ten days I began to think that my duty called me back to my business. The more I thought of the matter, tho more important it seemed to me to go. ‘Do you know any one going on tho 19 th ?' the widow asked me one evening in her dove like way. ‘No one but myself,’ I answerad. ‘ Business has called mo sooner than I expected.’ ‘ How delightful!’ from the widow ; while Mrs Lee exclaimed :

‘ Oh, Mr Remington, lam so glad! I couldn’t boar the idea of my friend going entirely alone; and you, of all others, will know best how to take care of her.’

‘We then began to mako our plans. Mrs intended making a visit of a few days to friends in London. I was going direct to Liverpool. Mrs Leo and I drove down to see our friend off, and I looked forward to meeting her on’ board tho steamed. My last few days in Paris were spent in saying goodby to old friends and buying presents for Sister Nell and her children. I got every novelty that I could find, and felt well pleased with my selection. At last I was on tho steamer, and stood looking at the ship moving away. By my aide was the widow, and I thought that I had never seen her look so lovely. I exulted in tho knowledge that she knew no one on board. I was her only friend, consequently should have her all to myself ; this was (so I said to myself) what I had for weeks been longing for. Was lin love ? That question had not occurred to me. I felt supremely happy, and thought the situation delightful. I was ready to do anything for this fair creature. She had only to command ; I was all eagerness to obey. I soon had an opportunity of showing my devotion, ‘ The following morning I came out on deck very early and was surprised to find my little lady already there. She looked very miserable and very pretty. The morning salutation over, I asked her how she had slept. ‘ I haven’t slept at all,’ she said, in a fretful, childish way, which I thought charming, ‘Such a noise all night,’ she continued, ‘ I could not get to sleep ; and the smells are simply dreadful. I must have another room. I’d rather sit up here all night than sleep in that horrid place again. Don’t you think, Mr Remington, if you asked the captain or somebody he would give us another state-room?’ and her big eyes looked inquiringly into mine.

‘ Certainly,’ I said, ‘ I will go at once to see about it, and if there is no other you shall change with me. Take my room, which is a good one, and as I don’t mind either noise or smells, your room will, suit me well enough.’ Here Hugh leaned over his chair to knock the ashes off his cigar, and said to his friend :

‘ I must have had it pretty bad—eh, Williams ? —to have said that, for you know that I cin’t endure a bad odor or a noise. But I forgot everything when under the influence of those eyes, and when she exclaimed, ‘ Oh, no ; I could not do that,’ I felt that my fate was sealed, and that I should take the noise and the smells.

‘ The next thing I discovered was that my lady had no sea-chair. There was only one left, and that had been spoken for; but I paid double the amount, and the chair was mine.

‘You ore so kind, Mr Remington,’ she said. ‘ I don’t know what I should have done without you. I am not fit to travel alone,’ she added in childish tones.

‘ I longed to press her to my heart, and tell of my love, and if she would but let me, it would bo the joy of my life to care for her. I looked all this ; I am sure I did. But there were too many people around mo for me to speak. She sat with her hands folded in her lap and looked divinely unconscious. ‘ The third day out the weather became bitterly cold. ‘ I am almost frozen,’ said Mrs . ‘ What shall I do? I have nothing to wrap around me, and shall hare to stay below; and, oh, dear 1 it is so uncomfortable there. Tho face that was turned up to me was that of a spoiled child. ‘Now, I had fine English rug, which. I had used at night, for you know everything at sea is so horribly damp. It had been a great comfort the me, and I knew that I should miss it. But what of that ? I couldn’t see the woman I loved suffer. So I got it and tucked her up in it. Her delicious smile repaid me for the sacrifice. ‘ Ob, how nice!’ she said, as she put her hands under the warm rug. “It seems to me, Mr Remington, that you have everything to make ono comfortable. I never heard of such a man, I am so glad that I came under your care !' * I was so love stricken that I did not reflect upon her apparent unconsciousness of tho fact that I had deprived myself of these comforts in order that she should be made comfortable. She seemed to take it for granted that I was a sort of travelling missionary, with extra wraps, state rooms, chairs, and anything else that one might need ; and I was such a slave to her fascinations that had she asked me to do the impossible I should have attempted it. ‘ Every day I had upon my lips to tell her of my love. Every day courage forsook me. Wo walked the deck day after day. She would put her little soft hand on my arm in tho most confiding way, look up from under her curls, laugh her low, sweet laugh, and ask the most childish, innocent questions. ‘ Wc were walking this way on the sixth day out. I had carefully rehearsed my part, and was about to tell her my story. Her conversation seemed to lead to it, for she said—

‘ You will come to see me when you are in New York, won’t you, Mr Remington ?’ * Nothing,’ said I, ‘ would give me greater pleasure.’ ‘You will come often? Promise to dine at our house once a week. You won’t forget me ?’ and the blue eyes sought mine. ‘ I looked into them and my look told what my tongue had refused to say ; I pressed the little hand close to my heart, and, after a pause, said, below my breath, ‘ Forget you ?’ and I was about to pour forth my love, when she gave a little scream, and cried, ‘ Oh, my veil!’ There, sure enough, was the confounded blue thing, sailing before the wind, and all the passengers, it seemed, after it. Of course I had to go too, and make believe to capture it. I never hated anything so much as I did that yard of blue gauze. I couldn’t go back and continue my story from where it was broken off, and indeed the widow seemed quite shy of me. ‘ The incident had given the passengers an opportunity to speak to her, when I joined her (without the veil, for it had, I hoped, struck bottom) she was surrounded by a group of people. I had no chanco that day, nor the next, to get her to myself. I tried to think of something that I could do or show her that would amuse and detain her. It seemed as though I had exhausted all my resources, when at last a brilliant idea struck me : I would show her the presents I had bought for Sister Nell. Thev were all in my little sea trunk, and I knew that she couldn’t resist their attractions. She came up on deck bright and beautiful as ever. ‘lsn’t it delightful,’ she said, ‘to think that to-morrow we shall be at home ? I can hardly wait for the time to come ; and yet;’—and here her voice dropped into that dearly-loved soft tone--'the voyage has been a most charming one, owing to your kindness’ she added, brightly. ‘ I longed to launch forth my tale of love, but thinking it more prudent to wait until I had secured her wholly to myself, I asked her in the most ordinary manner if she wouldn’t enjoy looking at some little trunkets that I had picked up in Paris. Her eyes sparkled. ‘Yes, indeed,’ she said. ‘Nothing could be more delightful than to get a glimpse of Paris while at sea.’

‘ I went below and got all my pretty nouveautes and brought them, up to her. Placing a chair in a quiet corner, and well hid from the other people, then drawing mine up beside her, I began showing, one by one, my collection of odd things. 1 Where did you get them, Mr Remington ? I hunted all over Paris, and found nothing half so 'pretty. What exquisite porte bonheurs! ’ and she slipped one after another of my carefully-chosen bracelets on to her plump wrists, and then turned them first on one side and then on the other.

‘ I knew Nell’s taste, and had searched for something uncommon, and was well pleased with what I bought. But Noll and everything were forgotten with this bewitching creature by my aide, and when she made a move to take them off, I said, laughingly, of course, 1 Oh, don’t disturb them ; and it is so pleasant, you know, to get a glimpse of Paris while at sea.’ ‘ She kept them or, and I opened the other boxes. There were rings, crosses, medallions, chatelaines, [and many other ornaments of curious design. The widow decked herself, and was in high glee. A child could not have enjoyed it more. I watched her with loving eyes, told her where each one came from, and helped to fasten them on. ‘I feel like an Indian princess,’she said, * and ought to have a crown and a crowd of kneeling courtiers, nnd tho picture would bo complete.’ ‘ Cannot you imagine a throne,’ I said, ‘ and take meforthe kneeling courtiers ? Wouldn’t my love compensate for tho admiring crowd ?’ ‘She looked up quickly and was about to answer, when one of those eternal old bores that, no matter when you cross, are always to bo found on shipboard, camo up and began telling his reminiscences j what the soa was twenty years ago—as though the sea had ever changed—and how when he first crossed his friends never expected to see him again. He had made his will, and they had parted as though he was forever lost to thorn. I assure you that I silently wished in my heart that he had never turned up again. Without saying a word, I got up, took my boxes, and left my Indian princess. 1 was thoroughly angry with tho old fellow for interrupting a tete-a-tete, and seriously annoyed with Mrs —for listening to and answering him. I made up my mind that that game had been played long enough. I would ask her tho simple question the first chance I got, and know my fate at once. But the chance did not come as soon as I expected it would. ‘ She went to her room with a sick headache, so she said, and I paced the deck alone. We were a long way up the harbor when she made her appearance the following day. She said that she had hurried with her packing, thinking that we were nearer than we really were to the city. ‘ Oh, Mr Remington, I had no opportunity of returning your jewellery, and so I packed them with my things. But you are coming, you know, to dine with mo on Saturday, and I will then give them to you.’ * Certainly,’ I said, * there is no time for us to change them now. Wear them until I see you again.’ ‘ I had fully made up my mind that, as I had been baffled so often, I would not wait until I had seen her in her own home before I opened my heart, or, rather, before I asked her my fate. She already knew my heart. There was no time to talk ; all was excitement j we wore rapidly approaching ; handkerchiefs were waving from the decks. The widow was straining her eyes, and suddenly leaving me and going forward, I saw her throw a kiss. How I longed to catch it! I looked with jealous eyes to see who would take it up and answer it. Eoremost among the crowd was a big man—six feet, and broad in proportion. It was he who was returning her kisses. Could it be her brother, or was it a friend, and this merely a pleasant greeting from a distance P

‘ I watched him come on board, and what did the big idiot do but to catch her up in his arms—my sweet one, whom, though loving, I had never dared to touch—and kiss h'er over and over again 1 I could have knocked him down.

‘On drawing near to them, I saw that neither of them noticed mt. She had forgotten my existence. With a heart-sick feeling I turned away. Was this to be the end ? Why had I come home ? I could hear them talking, though too miserable to listen. They came nearer, and the same soft voice that I loved so dearly said: * Mr Remington, I have been talking about you, telling how good and kind you have been, and how utterly forlorn I should have been had you not always looked out for my comfort. I have come to thank you, my husband wants to thank you, too.’ ‘ Her husband! Great heavens 1 And I thought she was a widow, and made love to her! I listened as though in a dream, and a deuced unpleasant one it was, too. I believe he thanked me, and she praised, and he thanked again, and then they urged me to come and see them, and she said, ‘ Don’t forget Saturday.’ * Whether I said anything, or whether I remained mute, is more than 1 can tell. I was like a man asleep, and had to give myself a good shake to come out of the nightmeie I was in. When I looked around, she—they were gone. Here Hugh stopped as though ha had finished ; but his friend Williams, whose curiosity was aroused, asked—- * Did you dine with her the next Saturday ?’ ‘ No ; I sent a regret.’ ‘Have you over seen her since ?’ ‘ No, never.’ ‘What became of your nouveautes de Paris ?’

* Nell went without them, as I went without my English robe.’ ‘ You don’t moan that she never sent them to you ?’ ‘ I never gave her my address, and she was not supposed to know where I was.’ Wiiliams didn’t like to ask any more questions, and Hugh remained quiet for a time. Then rousing himself and getting out of his chair he said—- ‘ I have never made love since, and ’ with a bitter laugh—“ I always avoid women in deep mourning. And now, as the fire has gone out with my story, I think wo had better go to bed,’