LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXII, Issue 2051, 20 September 1880, Page 3

LITERATURE.

A TALE OP BLOOD. By James Payn. If yon live in Downshire, and do not know the ffiendella of ffiendell Court, yon are unknown indeed ; the circumstances of their name being spelt with the two little f’s, and pronounced Fendall, stamps it with a peculiar aristocracy. The possession of a name that nobody can pronounce without instruction is also obviously a great inheritance, and in this case it was the more valuable since there Is no record Jof a ffiendell of Downshire having been distinguished in any other way. The family had “flourished" for centuries, in the sense that an old tree is said to flourish, and, like it, most of it was underground. Sir Geoffrey Fendall (for we will take the liberty of spelling his name as it was pronounced, as though he were an ordinary Christian), the present tenant of the court, was a widower, childless, and stricken in years. The long line, which had moved as directly as a pawn in chess for so many generations, had at last failed, and the succession was going aslant; nay, even zigzag—like the knight's move —to a second cousin, young Percival Fendall, of Lincoln’s Inn, barrister-at-law. His father had subsisted on a very moderate property, the income from which had been in no way supplemented by the head of the family, and had bequeathed it in a reduced condition to his son. The former had discovered by hitter experience that the fact of his name being spelt with two f’a did not enhance its financial value at the back of a bill; while the latter was seriously thinking of discarding the peculiarity altogether, os an affeota tion out of which nothing had ever come but ridicule, when suddenly old Geoffrey, acting under advice (not legal, but medical), awoke to the fact of his heir-presnmplive’s existence. He wrote from Downshi’-e with his own hand to invite Percival to Fend-dl Court. Most young men would have jumped at such an offer, nor was Percival himself by any means blind to its possible advantages ; but he was a man of that disposition which, in poor people, is called obstinacy, in persons of moderate means firmness, and in rich people determination of character. Thanks to nobody but himself, he was surely but slowly making his way in the world, and he was not disposed to barter his independence even for the reversion of the family estate. The young man knew, in fact, that unless he gave his kinsman some grave cause of offence he would one day reign in his stead. Would it not be better, therefore, as he had not an idea in common with the old squire, they should keep apart, so that no offence could be given by him ? Percival certainly did n t wish to go to Downshire. It was November, and, since he was no sportsman, he greatly preferred London at that season to the country ; just now, indeed, he preferred it at all seasons, from the circumstance that it contained, in Gloucester place, a young lady called Mary Blcke, whose name it was hla intention to change to Fendall (with one F) as soon as his income became sufficient for him to marry upon it. Her father was a hop merchant, and no doubt given to speculation in bis own line, bat strongly opposed to contingencies in connection with his daughter’s settlement in life. He had at first refused to take Percival’s great expectations into consideration at all ; bat when this invitation came from the old baronet he had thawed, and even held out a hope that he might not now insist upon seeing Percival’s ledger, setting forth that he had received in fees, &0., at least £SOO a year, before he would give consent to his daughter’s marriage. To the young man himself this relaxation of Mr Blake’s proviso gave much less satisfaction than that gentleman had anticipated. In his own mind he was persuaded that the match would be disagreeable to Sir Geoffrey, and render his expectations even less promising than before ; and this was one of the reasons that made him incline to be dut'ful to his venerable cousin at a distance and through the medium of the p-st-offi.ee. He did not like the old gentleman ; he had resented the coldness he had shown to his father ; and he did not appreciate the overtures now to himself, which he thoroughly understood were not owing to any personal regard, but only because circumstances had made him the sole surviving member cf the house with two fs. At the same time he was much too sensible to throw away the brilliant prospects which had thus unfolded themselves to his view, If he could retain them with self-respect and without much inconvenience. Although a very unworthy descendant of his race as regarded the belief in their blue blood, he had inherited a strong indisposition to be bored or troubled Old Sir Geoffrey himself, with his £20,000 a year and an obedient county, did not dislike being “ put out ” more than he did, and when he was annoyed he took as little pains as his great kinsman to conceal it. Such men are, socially speaking, the very salt of the earth, who amongeta world of snobs and toadies, speak the plain truth to its little tyrants, even if they do not succeed in teaching them'.how to behave themselves.

But Peroival had no sense of apostleship whatever. He simply liked his own way as much as his betters did, and—since his ambition was limited—almost as often get it; a man who did not walk and look, and speak as if the street belonged to him, but rather aa if he did not care one halfpenny to whom it did belong. Moreover, his father had been no ‘ tenth transmitter of a foolish face,’ and this young fellow was as intelligent as he looked.

That we should be able to keep at a distance the good people from whom we have expectations is, however, a mere dream ; and so Percival found it. To the polite and care-fully-worded letter, by which he had endeavored to evade the invitation to the home of his ancestors, he received a reply by return of post, the tone of which neoa‘ s|tated his appearance at Feudal Court, or his giving up all hopes of ever seeing it his own; in short. Sir Geoffrey was furious. • Dear Percival, yon had better go,’ pleaded Mary, to whom he had showed the note, with some strong expressions of indignation.

She was a beantifui creature, with eyes like a gazelle, and a voice more persuasive to his ears than any in the law courts. ‘ But he writes so disagreeably,’ said Percivai, pulling at his moustache ; ‘he must be a most offensive person.’ ‘ Recollect, my darling, that he is an old man,’ argued Mary, meaning that allowance, as well as reverence, was due to grey hairs. « Ho is not so old as all that,’ mused Percival ; ‘ this sort of thing may go r.n—l mean one’s having to put up with his impertinent arrogance —for years and years. The question is, is it worth such a tremendous sacrifice ?’

The wretch was thinking of his own peace o{ mind, and whether he conld keep his temper if such things were said to him—about * respect and ‘ obedience ’ —as his kinsman had thought proper to pat on paper. • jf you get on with your cousin, she murmured, with a beautiful blush, • dear papa would, I think, be more inclined to consent—that is, perhaps ho would let ns marry a little earlier.' • you darling! that’s true,’ said Percival, ‘ and is worth going through a'most anything for. I’ll write and say I will run down to Dowcshira in the courso of next wef k. ’ ‘ Don’t write, dear —telegraph ; and run down by to-night’s train. ’ 4 But I am to meet yon at dinner, Mary, at the Joneses, on Saturday.’ 4 Never mind ; don’t lot me be the cause of your running any risk of increasing Mr Feudali’a displeasure. I am sard I am giving you good advice. .Go to-night.' 4 Very good ; I’ll go.’ And Percival went accordingly. Sir Geoffrey received him with a stately welcome, the coldness of which, however, was owing to the general frigidity of the establishment rather than to any annoyance at his tardy obedience to his summons. 0 pon the whole Pe-cival’s hesitation had perhaps done him good. If he had shown himself eagerly desirous to accede to his kinsman’s wishes it would probably have been set down by Sir Geoffrey to anything but disinterestedness, and might have even suggested death—a subject very distasteful to the head of the ffiencels. An independence of spirit which had eventually given way to his wishes was not unpardonable, for it exemplified the power of will which had subdued it. The baronet himself volunteered to be the young man’s guido over the picture gallery and the stables, and gave him to understand less by words than by his confidential tone that at some time or another, though at a date so distant that it would be absurd to

allnde to it, all these things migl.t Le hia own if he behaved himself. It was well understood in D wnsh’re that good behaviour in Fir Geoff ey’a eyes was doing what Sir Geoffrey vri-ht-d, and lor three days Percival’s behaviour wss i.nexoep tionahle. I On the fourth morning: however it became infamous. On the previcun eveeieg there had been a large dinner party, composed chiefly of the magnates of the county, who had treated the young barr s*or with a civility that had snfficuntly ud ; c>ted thiix opinion of his prospects; and the young ladies had been at least as gracious as their fathers and mothers. ‘Percival, did you notice that girl in bine, last night? ’ inquired Fir -ierffrey, snipping off the end of hia after breakfast i and proceeding to light it—‘Amelia Hton, Lord Wraxall’s daughter ; it is my intention that you shall marry her.’ Percival lifted his eyebrows. ‘ Is can’t be done, Sir Geoffrey ’ —hare bo also l.t .his cigar w'th grea. deliberation ‘thatia, if I continue to live in England. We should have to go to Salt Lake City, where bigamy is permissible.’ ‘ What the dickens do you mean, sir?’ exclaimed the baronet; ‘have you a wile already ? ’ *No. Sir Geoffrey.’ Percival could not help wondering to himself what would have happened had he answered ‘ Yes.’ Would hia cousin have had an apoplectic fit (he looked very near it as it was) and gone off the books at once, leaving everybody happy ever afterwards ; or would he have sent for his lawyer and devised everything he ha;i to the lunatic asylum on the spot ? Percival had felt that the crucial matter must crop up sooner or later, and had nerved himself for the encounter. ‘ I have no wife,’ he went on ; * but, what is the same thing, Sir Geoff ey, so far as my future is concerned, I am engaged to be married.’ ‘ What! to that hop-p'cker’a daughter 1 thundered the old man, who it seemed had been making keener inquiries into Percival’s - affairs than he had had any idea of. * Well, sir, her father is a hop merchant,’ returned the young man, coolly, ‘ ! and I dare say has made soma pretty n .kings ; but £ don’t think he would like to be c&l ed a hoppicker, 1 may, perhaps, be allowed to add tha; your use of the term is not very polite to me. ’ His face was very white, and looked all the whiter by comparison with his companion’s which was scarlet. They were both in a frightful rage, the one at a white beat, the other boiling. ‘ And who the dickens are you V exclaimed Sir Geoffrey, in precisely the same tone (though he was such an aistocrat) as the butcher's boy used who, havi ig run the leg of his wooden tray into the duke’s eye, inquired of him who the d uoe he was that he should be so particular about his eyesight, (TV) be continued)