LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXII, Issue 1984, 3 July 1880, Page 3

LITERATURE.

MY GODMOTHER’S WILL. [An English Barrister's Story.] ( Conohtded .) * What 1 ’ I thought, ‘ while a girl like this la pining for me in a foreign land, am I base enough to suffer my thoughts to wander from her a single instant, and to a creature bearing the name of Tabitha Kezia Smith! An old maid,’ I thought—‘ a creature either held together with springs and cosmetics, or, still worse, a mummy, who, with a sunshade, scanty garments, and ankles hideous to behold, will stalk about in its own parchment skin, and audaciously flaunt its ugliness about the cliffs and beach.’

‘ You’ll find the new lady down on the beach, sir,’ said Mrs Brown, as she curtseyed me out of the door the next morning. ‘ Then I shan’t look,’ I muttered to myself, for I was rather out of sorts. I had been expecting a letter from Gee rgie for the last week, but none had come ; and making all [proper allowance for the claims which might be made on her time, she might, I thought, surely have spared half an hour to write me. I was not jealous, but it piqued my vanity, and I suspected Mrs Lomax of being up to something. The ghost cf Miss Batnford’s will rose before me and made me angry and indignant as I stamped down those two hundred and ten steps on to the beach. Carefully I scanned the shore for the hated form of Miss Tabitha Kezia Smith, and, with a sigh of relief, observed that it was clear. As usual, not a soul was visible, and making up my mind that the old girl had found the sea breeze too much for her, I resolved to take my usual swim, and make for the bathing machines before mentioned. Imagine my surprise when, on turning round them, I perceived that, though my fellowlodger was absent, I was not alone. A young lady, in a blue and white dress, was sitting in the shade reading. She had evidently taken a bath for hor brown hair hung in masses round her shoulders, falling far below her waist, and on the steps near her a coquettish-looking—well, perhaps I had better call it a Bloomer costume, such as are common at French watering-places, was spread in the sun to dry. She looked np for a moment as I approached, and then went on reading again ; but in that second I had contrived to catch a glimpse of as charming a face as a fellow could wish to see—eyes of the brightest, darkest blue, a little nez retrousse, and rosy lips, ‘ ready pointed to kiss,’ as the Germans say. If it had not been for Georgie, I should have fallen in love on the spot ; as it was, I resolved that my papers and magazines, which had been intended for the delectation of Mrs Brown’s lodger, should be my tribute to the new divinity. Of course, a swim was now out of the question; so, taking out a book, I eat myself down at a short distauceina position whence I had a full view of the new arrival. Not one glance did she deign to bestow on me. She read steadily on until one o’clock, and then, after consulting her watch, rose from her seat, removed her sailor’s hat, and do-

llberately twisted the whole of her magnificent hair into a bright silken coil, which covered the back of her head, and then drawing on her gloves, and jauntily setting on her hat again, she prepared to ascend the cliff again. I don't think, considering Georgia Lomax had left my last latter a week unanswered, that I was wrong in following the fair unknown (at a respectful distance, of course) and admiring her graceful walk, and the soft undulations of her figure the whole way. I had some difficulty in keeping her in sight, without letting her perceive it, bat still managed to reach the top step just as theblue and white dn sr disappeared within the doorway of my lodgings. I nearly fell backward down the steps again of Mrs Brown's house.

‘ My compliments to the lady upstairs, Mrs Brown,’ I said, hsnding her the day’s papers as she placed a chop, colder and greasier than ever, before me. ‘She is an old lady, I think you told mo,” I continued, as I thought, very sUIy, * and probably a good deal indoors If you find she is in want of books—and they are not easy to get here—you can offer her the use of mine.’ ‘ Thank yon, sir,’ said she. ‘ I’m sure as both the ladies will taka it very kind of you.’ ‘ Both I’ I repeater!, and a ray of hope floated across my brain that the girl I bad seen on the beach and Miss Tabiths Cezia Smith might yet prove to bo different persons ‘ You only told mo of one.’ ‘ The second one,’ said Mrs Brown, • the young lady (though for the matter of that she is a widow, though only twenty-one, which I know what It is, being one myself, and also not old, when left desolate) only came this morning, having been detained by business, for her late husband’s affairs ere not yet settled,’ How sad ! So yonng and pretty, and a widow ; and her husband must have bfen dead some time, for she was dressed in bine, I mentally observed. * Is the other lady her mother ?' I asked. * No. sir ; the old lady is her companion, she told me, she being too young to live alone at present.’ * A nd what is her name, Mrs Brown ?’ ‘ Mrs Campbell, sir ; which her husband woa a Scotchman, I should think, for poor Brown once knew ’ But as what poor Mr Brown knew was a matter of the greatest indifference to me, I cut my landlady short at once. ‘ Well, take up the papers now, Mrs Brown,’ I said, ‘ and I’m very sure the ladies are very welcome to any of my magazines and things. Mrs Brown retired with a mutton-bone and the “Illustrated News,” leaving my mind relieved of the hideous fancy which had beset it, that the graceful woman I had seen on the sands did not rejoice in the name of Tabitha, and I was left free to give her whatever name her appearance and my imagination suggested ; and I being, I suppose, in a spoony mood just then, did then and there christen her Undine, whom, according to the most beautiful of all the beautiful German legends, she really resembled. After the first overtures we got on wonderfully fast. Undine and I wandered about all day, and played chess in the evening, while Miss Smith, the companion, dozed over„her knitting, and though another week had passed without bringing me any news of the Lomaxas, I felt happier than I had ever been in my life, not even excepting those palmy days of Miss Bamford’s last illness, during which 1 was received with open arms into Bryanstone square ; and Mrs Lomax was so affectionate, that had she not been Georgie’s mother, I’d have cut her acquaintance. I confided all my history and troubles to Undine, all, excepting my engagement, which 1 did not tee the use of doing, considering Georgie’s shameful treatment of me ; and she was very kind and sympathising though she could not imagine why I refused to see Miss Blliston. ‘ Who knows ? Perhaps she was a very nice girl, whom you might have liked, and in time have loved,’ and Undine’s voice as she said this, was so soft and tender that I woa within an ace of forgetting Miss Lomax and every consideration, and telling her it was she I loved, and none other. And it was true. Not that a real deep attachment had sprung up in my heart, but I realised in full the difference between the love born of nature, amid the blue sky, the green earth, and the mighty waves, and such love as I had once imagined I had felt for Georgina Lomax ; tho offspring of the light and glitter and falsity of a London drawingroom ; an exotic which must be carefully nursed in its own atmosphere, or it will shrink, wither, and die. Bat stop! I’m actually getting sentimental Well, if you had seen Mrs Campbell, so young, so lonely, so desolate, you might have done the same. But I will return to the prose of every day life. I have not yet mentioned Frank Hardy, and yet he was tho greatest friend I had in the world. We were at college together, and he knew the history of all my troubles, of my entanglement with Miss Lomax, of the disgust I had felt at the unladylike proposition of Miss Elliaton, that I should come and see her, and of my firmly-rooted determination never either to see, or in any way have anything to do with that young person. It is my private belief that he thought me rather a fool for my pains, for Frank is not the person to pass a handsome fortune by merely because of its being encumbered by so slight a hamper as a wife : not if she were as old as Methuselah and ugly as Hecate. Indeed, after the first acrimony of my disappointment had passed off, he had on various occasions tried to bring me round to his own way of thinking. * I£ you think Georgia Lomax intends to reward your disinterestedness bj- the gift of her precious self, I can tell you, my boy, that you are wrong, ’ said Frank. ‘Take my word for it, the same hour that the knowledge of the contents of Miss Bamford’s will reached Bryanstone square, the walla of Miss Lomax's dressing-room witnessed a conference between the young ladies and their worthy mother, as to what would be the most respectable and least scandalous way of throwing you over; of which conference the trip to BadenBaden was tho first result. As they say on the stage, “Sheis not worthy of you,” she’d turn you over any day it a richer fellow offered ; and if I were yon. I’d checkmate the whole scheming set of them by just running down into Northumberland, and have a look at the little girl at Homey.’ Of course, I had, as in honour bound, been vastly indignant with Master Frank, but it would have taken more than this to sever our friendship j and though I had striven in vain to inspire my Orestes with better sentiments, our intimacy continued as great as ever, and our correspondence flourished exceedingly. In the midst of my perplexity and endeavours to reconcile the duty I still owed Georgina Lomax, for she had tacitly allowed oar engagement to continue, and the love I felt for the beautiful young widow, I received an epistle oven more lengthy than usual from Frank Hardy. * Imagine my isnrprise,’ he said, ‘ at tumbling suddenly on old Mother Lomax again. But you needn’t have been so sly as to keep secrets from me. I’m not the man to think the worse of you for knowing on which side your bread is buttered. Charles Masters, whom I met yesterday, tells me Miss Eliiston Is charming. He met her abroad somewhere, and says she is the daughter of an old love of Mias Bamford’s ; so that explains the will No wonder you described SandHeat with such vivid enthusiasm. Nothing like the sea-side for love-making. I tried it myself once, but came to grief. I hope the wedding is to came off Immediately, for Georgie’s. hor mother tells me, is arranged to take place in October, and I should like you to be married first to spite her. I always told yon what a good-for-nothing wordly woman she was. and you see I have proved it; for old Trombones is sixty, if he is a day—a white-headed old sinner. If it were not that he is taking the fair Georgie off your hands, I should say he ought to be ashamed of himself taking a young wife at his time of life. As it is, I wish him joy. Please say everything proper to Miss Ellistoa for me. I hope to make her acquaintance before long,’ &c. Never since the memorable day on which my godmother’s will was opened have felt more puzzled than I did after perusing Frank’s effusion. My first idea certainly was that ho had taken leave of his senses ; my second, that some one had made him the victim of a joke. I making love to Mies Elliston I Why, I had never seen her ; and what is more, never intended to do so. What could the fellow mean ! Then I read tho letter through again, aod one point at least became clearer. I was a free man again ; free to offer my heart to Undine, for Miss Georgie had, on tho questionable evi-

dence of her own mother, decidedly jilted me. I must allow th-.t I did feel a little piqued at her forgetting me so soon, and for an old gray beard, too ; and perhaps this it was which caused me to betake myself in such hot haste to Undine. I found her sitting on tho bench where I first saw her. prettier than ever in her silver grey dress and leng bine veil; and without _ waiting to collect myself, I went straight to my object, beginning by telling her that serious business demands my inmediate presence in town. She looked up at me then with snch soft, tender eyes that made the rest very easy. ‘ Mrs Campbell,’ I said, 1 you know my history, and I have told you my position prospects, everything, in fact, except what you have perhaps guessed already, of my dear ho-oe one day to call you my wife.’ She hi a shed, stammered—looked divine, in fact. ‘I hate the name of Hlliston,’ I exclaimed, passionately ; ‘ I only love yon.’ ‘ Bnt Mies Eilistoa,’ she said. ‘ Yon should’ She held out her hand at this, and while X pressed it to my lips, she murmured— ’ ‘Oh. fClaude, don’t you know me ? lam Mary Beatrice Elliston.’ And so she was ; and I, Claude Elliot Eiversdale, the la--rister, and the acute man. of the world as I considered myself, wu forced to admit that I had been outdone by the yonng person from Northumberland. To this day I cannot help fancying bnt that Frank Hardy had something to do with, my mystification, though our friendship continues as flourishing as ever, and I have never yet had occa ion to regret ‘My Grandmother’s Will.’