LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXI, Issue 1799, 26 November 1879, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THAT UNLUCKY QUOTATION. A Story of “Pinafore.” Prom “ Harper's Bazaar.” ( Concluded.) * ** What I never ?” * asked Free, with Intense significance. * Well *• hardly ever,’ ” returned Jack, nervously rubbing his chin, apparently the very embodiment oflguilt and confusion. Then they both uttered cold, little evasive laughs, and Free changed the subject. The truth was, they had both heard the joke so often that it could no longer raise a hearty laugh, and they did not reflect that the quotations was entirely new to their hearers. They talked on, ignorant of the overwhelming effect which their words had produced. For Auntie Trib was seriously alarmed, and began to think that she ought to have inquired more closely into the young man’s antecedents. She resolved to question Free at the earliest opportunity ; bat how could this be accomplished, since the two friends intended to leave Rochdale at an early hour on the following morning T She decided |to write a moat urgent letter, and sift the matter to the bottom. But how was it with Sallie t The little incident was, to her narrow and innocent mind, a 1 confirmation strong as proofs of holy writ.’ Jack was evidently ashamed of something in the past; he had been confused and silent when Laura Beamia was discussed; the events tallied; yes, the circumstantial evidence was strong. Free had said, ‘ Yon had a flirt—’ a flirtation with her he Intended to continue, when his mother interrupted him. But what if Jack were innocent in the case of Lanra and her broken heart ? At last he had openly contradicted his first denial of having committed a dishonorable action. ‘ Hardly ever,’ Indeed J Did he think she—she—would marry a man who ever committed the faintest shadow of a dishonorable ac ion ? Never ! not though her own heart broke, like Laura’s.

All night long poor Sallie lay tossing on her bed, working her foolish little brain into a state bordering upon frenzy. She revolved the . matter in her mind nntil she lost all power of correct and tranquil judgment. The more violently she excited herself, the mors conclusive, to her thinking, became the proofs of poor Jack's baseness. At length she could lie there no longer. She rose, and by the faint light of the winter dawn she wrote a brief but decided letter to Jack, slipped her engagement ring into the same one’s ure, sealed the envelope upon it. Faint and weary with her long conflict, she was about to lie down again, when she remember that it was near the early breakfast hour appointed for the two young men, and that she had promised to assist Jerusha In her so she dressed hastily, with trembling fingers, and crept down to the kitchen. Had she obtained an hour's sleep she would have awakened with a clearer sense of things, and the unfortunate

note would probably have been destroyed. Hut now her wearied and overstimulated brain continued to ponder upon the cause of her distress, and magnify it to gigantic proportions. ‘For the land’s sake, child,’ exclaimed Jeruaha, ‘you do look powerful bad I’ * I couldn’t sleep,’ said Sallie, shortly. * There, Jerushs, the table’s set, and there’s plenty of time for me to go and rest awhile now.’ And quietly laying the note besides Jack’s plate, she hurried back to her room. Her lover glanced around with restless eyes when ho met Free and Auntie Trib at the breakfast table. He had not believed that Sallie would elnde him this morning. He seated himself, with anxiously-drawn brows. ‘What? why; here a letter!' he exclaimed. Then, examining it, he read the word “ Private ” beneath his own name, and flushing hotly, he slipped it into his breast pocket. ‘From Sallie,’ he said, quietly.

| Wnat does the child mean ?’ cried Anntie Trib. ‘‘Ain’t she up ? Jerushy, go right up and get her.’ _‘ She said as how she’d ben layin’ awake,’ said Jernsha. ‘ and she went to rest a spell ’

‘ Well, yon go along and tell her to come,’ said Mrs Hill. But Jack called ont, ‘Don't disturb her it she's asleep.’ Jernsha went up, and presently came clattering down again. ‘ She’s asleep,’ she said as she entered. Poor Sallie had indeed dropped into a troubled slumber, and Jack would not admit for an instant the idea of rousing her.

*lt would be cruel,’ said the soft hearted fellow, ‘ Free and I will run down here very soon again.’ Ha was disappointed and doleful, but he hoped the letter would explain matters. ’1 he ring had been dropped into the folds of the paper, and its shape could not be distinguished through the ttiok envelope. Poor Jack wondered vaguely what the hard substance within could be, but the real state of the case never dawned upon him. As he and young Bill were walking together to the railway station he took the note from his pocket and] tore it opsn. It was brief, mysterious, decisive, ‘ Queer enough,’ said Free, ‘for Sallie to give ua the slip in this way. Just like you not to wake her. She’ll be mad enough to— Blem me, Jack, what’s the matter ?’ For Jack had stopped short, with a violet exclamation. His face was .'purple, his eyes blazing with wrath and pain. He held up the ring before Free’s astonished gaze. ‘ What in the name of— ’ began Free. But he was unheard ; Jack turned swiftly, and ran like a madman back to Hill cottage. Sallie was walking the porch in an agony of doubt and trouble. Her brief rest hadt cleared her perceptions, bnt it had not yefreed from the state of mingled per plcxity and stubborn decision into which she had worked herself. She was not yielding, but she was wretched and regretful.

‘Are yon insane!’ he cried seizing her roughly by the arm. ‘Do yon want to drive me to perdition with your wicked cruelty ? In Heaven’s name, explain yourself!’ Anri he fairly panted for breath. ‘Let me go!’ she uttered sternly; ‘I will [not have yon to touch me. Address me as if yon were at least a gentleman.’ Jack was goaded to frenzy, and answered intemperately; so the miserable quarrel raged high,_ Mb explanation was given ; mutual recriminations passed back and forth. At last Sallie taunted him with a flirtation with Laura Beamis.

‘So!it is for petty jealously that you treat me so ?’ he cried.

* Ho, ’ she answered ; *it is because I know you to be dishonorable.’ At the word Jack’s heated face turned pale as death. The two foolish people were now at white heat, ‘lt is a lie,’ said he, in a voice of ominous calm. And she, as sternly as quietly, sent him from her, with orders never to return. So he turned upon his heel and left her there, and their bond was broken. After this the days went on quietly enough. Night succeeds day with remorselees regularity. No one knew what Sallie had suffered; no one knew what she would have given to recall her bitter words. She had cast Jack away without counting the cost; she had learned at last that she conld not afford it ; she was a bankrupt in happiness. Gradually the slim, haughty figure grew slighter and less erect; the prood little mouth softened, and let fall words of piety with greater readiness than of old She was growing meek through pain. One month changed her as a year might have done.

Talking one day with Laura Beamia, who was growing stronger and more cheerful, she looked down at her ringless finger with deep dejection, and Lanra, following her eves, ■aid, suddenly : ‘ Sallie, I hoped you would have married Jack Arnold, I knew him in L— ;he is such a good fellow 1 He and I once had a little innocent flirtation, before before —well, when 1 first left Bookdale, and I have always since thought of him as a friend. You’re not engaged to him ?’ ‘No,’ replied Sallie, in a tone which forbade inquiry. ‘So that was all !’ shejthonght. * I believe I have lost all for nothing—for nothing! But it is too late.” Still her pride never dreamed of bending. But farther revelations were to come. At last a ‘ Pinafore ’ company visited Rockdale, and Sallie, seated by a rustic swain, who basked in the cold light of her rare smiles, heard with languid pleasure the inimitable opera. Suddenly, like the jest of a mocking fiend, there broke upon her ear the fatal words which had helped to destroy her peace, the familiar ‘ What! never ?’ ‘Hardly ever.’ Strange words to associate with heartache and misery! Yet, absorb as it may seem, they were, to Sallie's ears, freighted with a drearier spell than the ancient cabalistic mutterings of witch or wizard, or the (fateful utterances of the oracles. For this, this mere quotation, this idle joke, she had wrought herself into a state of virtuous indignation and angry suspicion of the man she loved. And she lost him. This was the bitterest touch; yet more was to oome.

When she reached home, Aunt Trib met her with a ruleful countenance. ‘My grief! Sallie,’she exclaimed, ‘I don’t b’live you treated Jack Arnold right. Here’s a letter from Free sayin’ Jack’s down with typhus fever, or somethin’ like it, and he says you’ve killed him, and that we must come down to L— right off. But, law me ! what’s he thinkin’ of, wantin’ you to run your head into a contiguous disease I’ (Aunt Trib’s words were often changed at birth, like the Captain and Ralph, when she spoke in haste.) ‘Why, you might as well face small -p "s. as typhus—not but what I’m sorry for Jack; but, of course, we can’t go-’ ‘Go !’ cried Sallie, who had snatched the letter. ‘Try to keep me, that’ all I I must go to-night—to-night! It’s typhoid, not typhus, auntie. Oh, if I could take it and die! Oh, Jack! Jack!’ and quiet dignified Sallie broke down, and wailed like a child. They could not go that night; there was no train till daybreak; but Sallie made ready for their journey with feverish energy. Her poor bewildered aunt remonstrated feebly, but in vain ; she was whirled off In the early morning light, and sat in a halfdazed condition on the train, with her best bonnet all awry, and with Sallie’s white inflexible face beside her, gazing straight forward like a mournful Fate. How the proud young heart had been humbled that night in prayer and tears! Would the journey ever end! It ended at last; and Jack, who was, I am bound to say, not quite so ill as Free had represented, awoke from sleep to find bending over him—not the fair avenging goddess of bis dreams, but the sweet woman whom he loved. Of course he recovered. What would you expect ? He was tender and vehement, and grief and perplexity and remorse had broken him down but he was vigorous, and joy and confessisn and forgiveness reetored him. Of course you knew from the first how the story would end ;jj it is but a trifling tale of a story of a tempest in a tea-cup. But Sallie had learned a lesson which she never forgot. How Jack laughed when he hoard her explanation I ‘As “ Pinafore ’ was the cause of our despair,’ he said, fore” express our newly recovered happiness.’ And he began to sing, feebly and incorrectly, but still heartily, ‘ “ Oh, joy ! Oh, rapture unforeeen!” ’

HVee and Auntie Trib stood by like a “ kindly chorus," smiling benevolently. ‘l’ll never bo so foolish again,’ said poor Sallie, meekly. ‘What I never?” his Free, in a stage whisper. ‘ No, of course she never will,’ cried Auntie Tub, failing to recognise the joke, although it had been explained to her a great many times. With which exhibition of innocence the old lady “ brought down the house ” as Capt. Corcoran himself could never do. Bnt you see her audience was so very happy.