LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXI, Issue 1783, 7 November 1879, Page 3

LITERATURE.

"WHAT A MAD WORLD IT IS." (fioncluded.') ' Remember a royal promise can never be broken,' says the Queen, earnestly. 'I Bhall remember it,' replies he. Then ensues a slight pause, broken at length by her. " Have you been.long here J* •Not very.long,*' ' I imagined' that. Your face is strange to me.* ' Yea. I shan't stay long, either. I am leaving very soon, so porhaps we shall never meet again.'' Is it fancy, or do:s-alook of infinite compassion fall, into, her lovely eyes at these words? bhe is gazipg. at him, sadly, wistfully as it seems to Bohun; then the eyes are lowered, and the look is gone. 'Have you been here any time,' he asks in his turn. • Yes ; nearly ibveo weeks. I do cot like it. I, too, am going away to-morrow.' Bohun regards, her silently, and surely the pitiful look thafe a moment ago darkened her eyes has wandered, and thinea now out of his. ' Always to-morrow, I suppose ; the poor soul!' thanks he, 'and to-morrow never comes.' ' Then perhaps we may meet again,' he says, with an assumption of gaiety he is far from feeling ; * inthe great world beyond these gates we [may come face to face some day. When we are free, I shall ask one of your subjects the way to my queen's, and then I shall lay my homage at your feet. May I V * You may,' replies her majesty, a wonderful softness in her tons. Then she murmurs something he cannot hear, and rising makes him a grateful inclination of her pretty head, and vanishes among the crowd. When she is quite gone Mr Bohun draws himself up with a deep sigh that has something of impatience in it 'What a life!' ho says; 'I should go raving mad myself if I taw much more of it, I wonder how Norman can stand it! That poor pretty creature ! it is the saddest thing I ever saw I Her bsauty 1 her vain longings for freedom! It is horrible. With this he, too, leaves his seat, and makes his way towards Wilding, who is standing at a little distance, evidently lest in contemplation of the elderiy prima donna, who is discoursing in somewhat noisy fashion with a very mild old gentleman. Beaching Wilding, Bohnn comes to a standstill; while almost at the same moment a young lady, creeping in a timid manner throHgh the throng of dancers, gains Dr. Norman's side, and with a sigh of relief slips her hand through his arm. B jhun's back bring turned towards her, he does [not see this young lady. ' Well, where have you bepn all this time; been enjoying yourself ?' asks Mr Wilding. •Hardly,' with a shrug. 'lt is all too muoh like a nightmare for my fancy. You don't catch me coming to this sort of thing again in a hurry. It is melancholy to the last degree.' "' It is interesting,' says Mr Wilding. ' It may be to some people. Not to me.' • What misfortune has befallen you 7 asks Mr Wilding, turning to regard his friend curiously. ' Has any one molested you, or made a playiul attempt to cut your throat? You look rather down on your luck.' ' I have been talking to one of the prettiest girls I ever saw,' says Bohun ' And—she was mad.' 'A faint drawback, certainly. Pretty, you say V ' Lovely. She had the sweetest eyes in the world. And tha oddest part of it was oho didn't look in the least out of her mind. It was only her conversation. She told me, for instance, she was the Queen of Hearts.' ' That was very frank of her,' says Mr Wilding. • Anything else V ' Not much.' ' Did she ask your name ?' • Yes. I told her I was the Etag of the Cannibal T slands.' ' I didn't think it was in you,' says Mr Wilding, with calm but ardent admiration. ' Of course, the poor lady was gratified at finding herself in the society of one of her own rank. The idea was full of delicacy.' ' I talked to her for a long time. Then she left me somewhat abruptly ; but that wa3 to bo expected, you know. By Jove!' say 3 Mr Bohun, excitedly, ' there she is !' ' Where ?' turning with soma faint show of interest to gaze exactly in the wrong direction. • Not therp, my dear Mlow ; over there. Standing close to Norman. Don't ycu sea her?' ' Who ?' Bays Wilding, betraying the liveliest consternation. ' Do you mean to tell me you told that young lady you were tho King of the Cannibal Islands ?' ' Yes,* says Bohun.,' why not?' 'Well,' says Mr Wilding, surveying his friend with gro-sriug delight, • you've about

done it this time at all events. That lovely lunatic of yours ia Miss Norman, George's youngest! lister.' Mr Bohun is -consoious of a cold chill that seems to pervade' hia> entire system; rendering him' almost faint.

'lf this is one of 'your jokes," he says to his friend sternly, with- a-last supreme effort' at composure,' I musJr say I consider it rather ill-timed.'

' On this occasion only,' my dear fellow, yiu have the joke all to yourself,' replies the friend, with what appsared to Mr Bohun brutal ienjoyment of the situation. ' I give you my honor she Is aa sane as yon, are, and—unless she was married sine* last night—her name is Norman.' 'Wilding, remove me. Take me anywhere out of this,-' murmurs Bohun feebly, taking his companion by the arm. ' No place like the supper room for a case like yours,' says Wilding, preparing to lead him thither.

Meantime, Miss Normaa having, as already related, gained her brother's side, says in a little panting whisper—- ' Oh, George ! how glad I am to be near you again In spite of all my efforts to the contrary, I confess- thcse'poorpeoplefrighten me horribly.-' ' You are nothing but a little goose, Carry,' says her brother, patting her hand, 'and I am quite disappointed ; I fully thought you would have enjoyed it ' ' Well so I do dear, immensely. I have been having quite a lovely time. A young man—a very splendid lunatic—did me the hoDour to converse with me for half an hour, during whioh time he made violent love to me.'

' I should like to have seen your face,' says George; * who was he? '

' I don't i know. That was the funniest part of it. I thought I knew all your patients, but I suppose ha is a new arrival. Ho is young, about twenty-nine, very handsome, and doesn't look the least bit mad.'

' I wonder who it is you mean,' says Gerrge thoughtfully. ' He called himself the King of tho Cannibal Islands,' explains Miss Carry. ' Ah I that puzzles mo even more. I didn't think I had a king in my establishment.' 'He is tall, gentlemanly, and, as I told yon, exceedingly handsome. I quite liked talking to him. Once, indeed, he grew a little empresse, and then I was frightened, but on the whole he behaved wonderfully well, I assure you. I rather liked him than otherwise, and I was sorry for him, poor fellow.

'I can't think who on earth it is,'says George, bewildered by the flatttering description. 'Why, there—there he is!' cries Carry excitedly. ' Just going out of tho room with Mr Willing. Don't you see him? Look!' ' Eh ?' says George, and then ensues an ominous pause. Gaorge's lips relax—they widen—quiver—and presently Mips Norman becomes aware that her brother is convulsed with laughter. ' What is it ?' she a - bod a little austerely No one likes to be laughed at. ' What is smusing you Y ' You,' says George," still continuing his heartless mirth, ' and your new patient.' ' Well, isn't he mad ?' impatiently. ' We are all mad, my dear, bo doubt, on different subjects, but as yet that yonng man yon have just poiuted out to me is loose upon the world.' 'George, what do you. mean V asks Mies Norman in a terrified tone. 'Who is that young man V ' He is a rising barrister, of good fan, ily and small means, and his name is Robert Bohun,' replies George, in.a voice full of open amusement 'Oh, George, do say you aro not in earnest, entreats his sister, almost in tears. ' I have said the most dreadful things to him—l have made myself ridiculous—l- told him I was the Queen of Hearts!': At this George laughs -still more immoderately. ' What shall I do ?'- says Miss Norman. 'Dear George,' coaxingly, 'I think I should like to go to my room.' ' Nonsense, child, come- and have a glass of champagne instead. After all, what does it signify ? I'll find Bohun and introduce him to you and you can both laugh it over in five minutes.' ' Introluce him !' indignantly. * I wonder how you can ever suggest such a thing to me Of course, I will never be able to look him in the face again. My only hope is, that ho and I have s:en the lmb of each ether to night.' ' Well, come and have your champagne anyhow,' Bays George; : and Mies Norman, ttill so distracted as to be almost unaware of what she is doing, suffers her brother to lead her to the supper-room, where, to her - everlasting chagrin, she finds herself face to face with the King of the Cannibal Islands !' Carry comes to. a stand-still, and Mr Bohun puts down, untasted, the glass he holds. They stare at each other silently, and both turn a warm crimson. To Miss Norman this accession of colouring is eminently becoming, to .Mr Bohun it is not. He is quite aware of both, these facts, and feels hi x self at a disadvantage. As for George and Wilding, they are beginning to enjoy themselves thoroughly. Their eyes are gleaming-with unholy joy. it is with difficulty they suppress their secret gaiety. Tho former, coming to the rescue at this, moment, Bays with gentle gravity—- * Cirry, permit, me to introduce to you one who for years has been to me a true and valued friend, although he can boast a royal pedigree, while I am only a humble commoner. True, his people hail from Central Africa, and are hardly choice with regard to their food, but that cannot be placed to his account; it is his misfortune, not his fault. His family name is Bohun, his title—'' ' Norman,' interrupts Bohun angrily. ' His modesty forbids my dwelling on his manly perfections,'continues George, utterly unabashed. ' But before leaving the subject, Bohun, I shonld toll you my sister is also of blood royal —she iB, in fact, the well-known queen of -' ' George!' exelaims Miss Norman severely. 4 Well, I shall say no more,' says Norman ; and then he and Wilding give way to much unseemly merriment, and taking each other by the arm, march off to a distant table. ' I hopß you will forgive my wretched mistake, Miss Norman,' says Bohun, when he and Carry are alone. ' I'm sure I can't think how the absurd idea got into my head, but I was positive you were a—a— ' ' So was I—of—' says Miss Norman, rather incoherently with downcaat eyes. But Bohun happily understands •I'm awfully ashamed of myself,' continues he, earnestly. *I really think I must have mad when—when I thought you so.' 'So must I,' murmurs Miss Norman, growing more incoherent, and always with her lov*ly eyes cast down. 'I hope I am fosgiven,' says Bohun anxiously. ' 1 hardly think there is anything to forgive,' with a low, half nervous laugh and just one swift glance from under tho long dark lashes ; ' I think we have both sinned equally. When I remember all the absurd things I said to yoia,' putting up her baud to her soft fltifched cheek. * I feel so angry with myself, But I didn't m.-an them, liou must understand that.' * Of course I understand that,' says the young man. ' 1 wish you would promise me to forget all this dreadful evening.' ' I shall do my best, but there are some things one cannot forget. You toll me, for inst ince, that when we wre both free of our asylum I might call upon you. I can't for g-t that, you-know. .And thera are a few other thit'gs 1 don't want t? forget either.' 'Oh! bat I really wi'.h you would,' tavs Miss i\oiman. ' that ia—some of them —the "other things" I mean,' —confusedly—'indeed, perhapj it would be better if you forgtt every thinjj.' • Oh 1 don't eay that,', says the young man. « And all I said about the hearts' —with another glance from the b jantiful violet cyea 'you niuft have thought mo so foolish, so conceited, but I didn't mean a word of it. The only heart I have in my pwsession is my own.' « A i o you quite sure it is In your poses • sion?' asks he even more earnestly than ho himself is aware. ' Qaita sure,' rep'ieß Miss Norman, examining her fan with interest. It u a gloriius day towards the close of tho London season- Outside, beneath the hot rays of the brilliant sun, the heat ia almost} insupportable j but within, whe.e

Mia* Norman is sitting in her pretty drawing room with all the blinds pulled down, and a sift little breeze sighing in and out through the half-opened window, it is almost cool.

Miss Norman is dressed in a charming morning gown—all pure white —that clings closely to her perfect figure, and suits her a mcrveille; with a good deal of lace, and just a suspicion of black velvet, at the throat' and wrist. She has «nme fanciful bit of crewel-work between her fingers, but it can hardly be said to grow beneath her hands. She is alona (Lady Norman, her mother, having gone to »it for an hour with • her eldest daughter • and the new baby),' but from the expectant manner in which her eyes seek tho door every now and then, and the little imoatienfc sigh that sometimes escapes her, it is evident she does not anticipate being long so. It is rather more than two m"nths sines that memorable evoning when she and Bohun firft.met. Two months, in which endless ball?, .dinner and garden parties, opera?, and small and carlies have done their appointed work, Perhaps, Indeed, the small and earlies have the most, to answer for. At all events, Eohnn in this short time has lost his heart irretrievably to her, whioh hardly makes her the richer, she having given awa? her own i There is-a knock at the door—a short silence—then a quick step upon- the stairs Miss Normsn, taking up the neglected work, evidently throws her whole soul into its completion) and stitches away diligently. Then, the door opens, and Bohun is announced.

' You I' says Carry, rbing with a smile and a glance of well-feigned surprise, although, in reality he had been waiting for this moment for fully an hour. * Yes, I was anxious to know how you were after last night's fatigue. I needn't ask, however; you don't look in the least done up.'

' No.. Dancing does me good. But how very thoughtful of you to call! * * There ia. nothing very remarkable about that,' says Mr Bohun. ' You. know I am always thinking of you.' 'Well,' says this hypocrite, blandly, taking no notice of his sentimental remark, 'it was a pity you didn't pat off. your visit for another hour.. Mamma has gone to see Lizzie, and haw you will miss her.' ' Has she really ? ' says Bohun ; but the news doean't Beein to afflict him very severely. On the contrary, it is with a decidedly mo e cheerful air that he puts his hat away, and draws his chair a little nearer to Miss Norman's.

Then ensues an animated conversation, in the course of which Mr Bohun imparts a j,'ood deal of. information.. His cousin has died quite suddenly In Florence He is the next heir. He has come iu for a title, and all the money and that. Miss Norman ischarmed—delighted—Bhe congratulates him with all her heart. 'lt muviibe so nice to be a baronet you i now, and;—' Then the voices grow lower and lower, until at last they cease altogether. Whem the conversation'was begun ttey were seated; now, as they got to this point,- they find they find they are both standing. Miss Norraan is very close to a jardiniere, .and Bobua is very dose to Miss -Norman. ' And I think you love me "a little, too, Carry—don't you?' asks-the young man anxiously, taking her hand with .very becaming diffidence. Miss. Norman's, other hand is trifling nervously.with the leaves near her; she makes no immediate reply Her eyes are lowered. 'On the night when first we mat,' says Bohun, 'you told me you would.accept me as your subject. I have, not forgotten that. Yon were a queen then—you are always a queen to me, and you told me also a royal promise could not be broken. So yours ought to be sacred. Yon will accept me, Carry? You will 'marry me ? ' ' I don't want you. as.a subject/' says Oirry. 'll made a .mistake.' ' ' Oh, Oarry I'- Bays.the young man, with keen reproach in his tone —so keen that Miss Norman involuntarily raises her face to bis, and lets him, see thoiieara ttat are dimming her pretty, eyes. At this, he is so iar encouraged that he encircles her with his arm, whereupon she lays her head very contentedly up ,n nio .shoulder. ' Would you have a queen wed her subject ?'- she asks, with a little flickering smile, although.the violet eyes are quite drowned by this time. ' I would,' said Bshun with decision. 'lt would never do,' E»y« Oarry. ' No,' in a little soft whisper, 'if yon insist.on, mairying me, you shall not be my subject—you shall be my. king 1* 'I shall be both,' says the young man, very earnestly*