LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2248, 16 June 1881, Page 4

LITERATURE.

AN ACTRESS’S HOLIDAY. [From tha “Era.”] (Concluded ) It was a pretty scene aho had chosen for her sketch A lon fly lakelet, hslf covered with watarliliea lying in a wooded hollow On tho further side rose a dark cliff crowned with an ivy clad tower, tho sole remains of the fortress that had onco stood there. Winnifred placed herself on a mossy bank under tho shadow of a friendly oak, and was so intent spin f her work that she did not notice an approaching footstep until a sudden exclamation caused her to look up and meet tha eyas of Philip Longworth. Tha meeting was purely accidental on both sides, and their mutual surprise broke down the barrier of reserve that of late had risen up between tiera. ‘ And whatever brought you here, Mr Longworth ?’ asked Winnifred smiling, as the young man seated himself on tho bank beside her. ‘ I came for some wsterlilies.’ * Watorliliea !’ In astonishment.

‘Yes. Yon said the other day that yon admired them very much, so I thought I would come here and gather a few to give you to-morrow when you come to the Hall.’ Winnifred was touched, but before she could roply he went on, ‘ I think it’s an awful shame that you and Mrs Thorne should put off coming until the very last day ; when I have asked you so often, too. It might rain, or a thousand things. Why did you do it ?’ looking keenly Into her face. ‘ On the principle of keeping the best to the last, I suppose/ answered Miss Earl, demurely. * Pshaw ! That means yon won’t tell me/ rising impatiently to his feet. ‘ 1 may as well get the lilies at once, ’ Winnifred laid aside her sketch book, and followed him to the edge of the lake. * How lovely they are,’ she said, looking down on the pure white blossoms resting on the water’s surface. Then, ‘ls the water deep ?' •Deep enough to drown you,’answered Philip, lightly. There was a man drowned here once. They thought he must have boon gathering lilies, for they found hia body just hero.’ The young Squire stood on a ledge of rock that ran out into the lake, and drew tho flowers towards him with a stick. He had gathered several, when his foot suddenly slipped, and he would have fallen headlong into the water if Winnifred—who was standing near—had not instantly darted forward and oangbt him by tha arm. ‘Thank you very much,’ he said, when, with her aid, ho had quickly re aiued his equilibrium. * A ducking would have been a nuisance just now. I’m glad I did not drop tho lilies. They are beautiful flowers, certainly/ looking at them, and then offering them to his companion. Hut Winnifred turned from them with abhorrence. ‘No! they might‘have cost your life,’ she said, * You might have been drowned before my eyes.’ The momentary danger, which had been a trifle to Philip, who was a good swimmer, had been a terrible shook to her. Her face was ashy white, and she trembled from heal to foot. When Philip perceived her agitation a delicious hope shot through his heart. He clasped her hands and drew her towards him.

‘lf I had been would you have been sorry, Winnifred ?’ he demanded in a low, passionate tone. She tried hard to answer him, but she could only mnrmur ‘Philip/ as she slowly looked into hia face; and he saw with a sudden thrill that the beautiful dark eyes were full of tears.

At that sight all his wise and self-denying resolutions were forgotten, and in eager, ardent words ho told her how deeply she was beloved, and asked her to be hia wife.

Winnifred allowed him to go on nocheeked. Since she had become a professional actress she had been mnoh courted, and had received several offers of marriage, bat none had touched her as this one did. The homage of those other men had been offered to Miss Karl, the popular actress; this was to Winnifred, the woman. It was ■he, herself, whom Philip loved and desired to make his wife; and he would have loved her jast as dearly, she knew, if she had been the dullest and moat unsuccessful of actresses; and this assurance made his affection very sweet and precious in her eyes. Sat still she made no answer to all his passionate words of love, and presently Philip noticed the omission.

‘ You do love me, Winnifred ?’ he demanded anxiously. 4 1 have not denied it,’ she answered gently. 4 Bat I want you to say so. I want you to tell me that yon will be my wife,’ he perelated.

Winnifred sighed. ‘lt is all so sudden,’ she pleaded. ‘Give me until to-night to think of it.’

Philip was stricken with compunction, ‘Of course 1 will,’ he said heartily. *1 was a brute to take you unawares in this way.’ But when the evening came her answer was • No.’ They were alone in the old garden, seated in tho sheltered nook where they had spent so many happy hours. The young Squire's bronzed cheek blanched when be heard that fatal word.

* Perhaps there is some one else ?’ he faltered.

‘There is not,' she answered quickly and decisively, ‘I admire, honor, and’—with drooping eyelids— 1 love you 1 Stay,’ she cried, as Fnilip bent towards her. ‘You have a rival, though not a masculine one. My love for my profession. I have been an actress for several years, but it is only within the lost two that I have become popular. Success coming after long continued hard work is very sweat. The warm welcome that awaits me when I appear upon the stage, and the thunders of applause that reward my efforts, are music in my ears. I cannot give them np. I cannot renonnee in the very moment of victory that whioh I have labored so bard to attain.’ * You would rather be the idol of a fickle public than the wife of the man who loves yen,’ said Philip bitterly. •Despise me if you will,’ was tho meek reply. ‘Anything is better than that I should marry you to make you miserable,’ ‘Tomake me miserable 1’

‘Yes. Could you bear to see that your wife was growing weary of her qniet life, that aha was longing for the excitement to which she had been accustomed, and that she was beginning In her heart to think that perhaps her marriage was a mistake?’ ‘ No/ said the young fellow, with a heavy frown; *1 could not bear It,’ Then, after a pause, he added, in a softer tone, l lf I were only rioh, if I coaid only say marry me at onoe.’

• Oh, Philip, cannot yon understand ?’ cried the girl despairingly. ‘lt is not waiting, or poverty, or anything of that sort tint lam afraid of. It is myself I fear.’ He looked at her long and wistfully. ‘ Ah, then there Is nothing more to bu said,’ ho answered sadly.

Winnifred rose, and stood nervously twisting the rings on her linger. ‘ After this you will not expect to see us at tho Hall tomorrow V

He turned on her almost fiercely. ‘ Why not?’ he demanded. ‘purely you would not deprive me of the slight satisfaction of remembering that you were once beneath my roof?’ So they went; and it was with an interest that was akin to pain that Winnifred looked at the beautiful old house and walked through tho rooms where sho might have reigned as queen.’ * Forget me, Philip, ’ she whispered when they parted. ‘ I cannot forget, ’ ho answered doggedly. * Some day I shall come to London. ’ ‘Not to the theatre,’ sho said hastily. * Promise yon will not come to the theatre.’ But he would not. * * * # #

Fifteen months rolled away, and one dull December afternoon Philip sat in his study absorbed in a newspaper. A whole column was devoted to a criticism of a new play at the Mayfair Theatre, In which that clever young actress Mias Earl had achieved a fresh success.

Tho young squire read tho notice carefully, then let the paper drop. * AH the careless, gaping world may see her,' he muttered, ‘ why not I, who lovo bar- By George, I will! I’ll go to-morrow.’ The new play was a great success, and the Theatre was full from pit to gallery. The third act had begun, when a tall, fair-baired ypnng fellow entered the staUs. Being so late ho was unable to procure a seat, and

stood nt the side leaning one ahonlder against the wall and looking fixedly at the stage. He appeared to bo following the action of the piece with the greatest attention; but in reality his interest was centred in the heroine. Other figures might come and go, they were but shadows to him. He hoard but ono voice, and saw only the dear fso-i that had smiled on him in dreams. Tho play went on and the climax came. Tho injured woman is at last made aware of tho wrong she has been suspected of committing, and proves her innocence in the face of her accusers. Then she turns, and with a look upbraids the man who should have trusted her. As she opens her lips to speak sh s meets ior the first time the tender gaze of the blue eyes that for the last hour have been following her every movement She starts, utters a little plaintive cry, and then, before anyone can reach her, falls down in a dead faint.

What happened next Philip scarcely knew. He had a dim notion that the curtain fell in confusion, and that some man came forward to make an apology. But he did not stay to hear. He pushed his way into the street, and walked about for hours in a state of great excitement. To faint at tho sight of him! What could it mean ? Was it a good omen or a bad ? He know not what to think. Sometimes hope was triumphant, sometimes fear. And so he went on until ha grew weary, and at length returned to hia hotal.

The next morning, nt the earliest permitable moment, he presented himself at Primrose place, and was admitted. As ho entered the drawing-room Winifred rose up to meet him. He clasped her hand and looked into her eyes. 1 Were you hurt last night? Was I wrong to come?’ ho asked humbly. ‘No/ she whispered. And then there was no need for further question, for his arm was around her, and her head lay on his breast. * And do yon still fear yourself V asked Philip, lagghing. the shook her head with a happy smile. ‘ I know myself better now. It is not that I depreciate what I used to value, but there is something that I value more.’ ‘ And what is that ?’

‘Your love/ she answered softly, ‘As long as I am assured of that I can be happy anywhere. ’ A few months later they were married. They had to live very quietly for the first year, but they did not mind ; and now all the mortgages are paid off, the estate is free, and there is not a happier couple in all the North ‘conntrie.’