LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2280, 23 July 1881, Page 4

LITERATURE.

THE SACKFUL OF SOVEREIGNS. [From “ Loudon Society.” O HATTER 11. hub disappointment. {Continued.) In the course however, of little more then three years after they were ieft alone in their home a real anxiety arose, which touched both husband and wife more nearly perhaps than any they had ever felt. Tho little girl Lilian became dangerously ill, and after tho fever which struck her down had passed she remained in sadly delicate health for piany months. She had to he taken to the sea for changs of air ; and what with this, and the heavy expenses for medical attendance (for the first doctors in London were consulted), it was indeed found that their income was barely sufficient to meet tho heavy strain upon it. For it must never bo forgotten that though the mother and daughter’s portion, amounting to £2500 of old Matthew’s money, had yielded by its investment in the Wheal - rydd Compsny fair dividends up to this time, they were not equivalent to the share the old grandfather had contributed to the expenses of the home, and which of course had entirely ceased through tho unhappy mystery in which he had chosen to envelop his affairs. :-y way of adding to tho Woodwyn’s anxieties, news had come that Tom Rickman’s venture was going wrong. A murrain had broken cut, by which he had lost largo sums ; whilst, to put the finishing stroke to their misfortunes, the dividends from the Wheal Grydd Company suddenly ceased, there being a check in the mining operations. By the time, therefore, that the fifth Christmas after Mr Hickman’s death was coming round, we find the Woadwyns really in somewhat straitened circumstances. Still sickly. Li’ian has this autumn failed to get her usual breath of sea air. It could not be afforded, and this deprivation left its mark on the pallid cheeks of both mother and daughter. Aa if, too, to bear out the adage that misfortunes never come alone, one gloomy November afternoon, George, Trturning from the city more depressed than ever, has to make a clean breast of bis troubles, unable any longer to evada tho tender questionings and appealing looks of his wifo. * I don’t know what we shall do, darling,’ he said ; ‘ but that abominable mining company, after gradually showing signs of decreasing prosperity, the shares going steadily down month by month, so that I should have lost hundreds of yours and dear Lily’s money if I had sold—though I ought to have hud tho pluck to realise my loss long ago—has finally come to such a pass that every one in the city says there must bo a call on tho shares soon. I have foreseen this for months, I may say for years, and yet I have been such an idiot, I could not make up my mind to sell.’

* I am grieved for you, my poor George,’ said Alice, ‘more than I can say ; but we must not let trouble take away all our hope and strength—we need both. And we should not forget the dear bright days we have known, now that we have to face unflinchingly many a dark and dreary one ; for I too have only sad news to toll. By the mid-day post came a letter from poor Tom. He has lost all—every farthing of the £ISOO. His partner has absconded with everything ha could lay his hands on ; and we may expect Tom here, bereft of means, and having worked his way home (as in his happier and younger days he worked his way out 1 , trusting and assured tbat with ns he will find comfort and a hearty welcome. God help him and us ! The hearty welcome be shall have, George, from both of ns, shall he not 1 But another month to feed —will be —a burden—and my heart is heavy!’ Here a few qniet tears stole softly down Alice’s cheeks, and for a moment choked her utterance.

•Tom coming home!’ said George, and penniless 1’ ‘ Yes,’ answered the wife, ‘and he will be here a day or two before Christmas Day, if the ship makes as good a run as he expects. This letter was sent by the mail which started a week before he was to sail.’

‘Well, well, well, dear wifi*,’ said poor George, * he is your brother, has your dear eyes and kind heart, we know. Such as we have he shall share; and, thank God, no one cun rob us of the love that has hallowed these walls to us for many a year past. Let us thank him that we stand here together with one heart and one hope, and not a thought unshared by the other. ’ Somehow, notwithstanding their gloomy prospects, this opening of heart to heart gave to each a fortitude which sent them to sleep that night more peacefully, perhaps, than had been the case for a long while past. CHARTER 111, THE LUCK. Christmas eve, in this the most memorable of all years for the Woodwyn household, fell upon a Sunday. The long anticipated fatal oall on the shares had come about a fortnight previously, and the poor drudging bank clerk, unpromoted yet, save by a very slight step, had met it with great difficulty and many sacrifices ; but he returned to his little home at Higbgate on the Saturday night, determined that at least for the next two days care should be driven from its doors, and that nothing but gratitude to the Giver of all good for what was still left to him should fill his heart. So the best fare befitting the season that circumstances would allow—though falling far short, may be, of the profusion of some former Christmas times—had been prepared by the careful honsowife. The minor portion of it—for the great feast was, of course, not to be dreamt of till the morrow —was being set forth by degrees that Sunday afternoon upon the table in the little parlor looking out upon the lawn and garden, all now crisp and brilliant under a freshly fallen canopy of snow. As far as the immediate moment was concerned, one thing aloue slightly clouded the happiness that, notwithstanding their troubles, beamed in the faces of our two friends and their little girl. Ho further news had been heard of that other luckless and long absent member of the family. 1 1 could have wished,’ said George, ‘ that poor Tom could have arrived in time to eat his Christmas beef with ns. There would be enough for him ; and I had heartily hoped that he might have “come to hand,” as we say in the city, in time.’ The words had scarely passed his lips when, after that fashion of coincidence so necessary for stories and plays, and which by critical readers and audiences is often held to be artificial in fiction, bnt.which. when occurring in real life, is considered only “very fortunate,” the bell at the outer gate beneath the ivied arch clanged with a boisterous peal ; and two minutes later the little sitting-room was dwarfed in iti proportions by the appearance within its walla of a huge, broad-chested, large limbed, weather-beaten man. sadly travel-stair,ed and battered as to his exterior, but with a pair of bright pare eyes, so full of hone and cheerio ess that they made ycur heart bound at once with trust and joy ; and they made not only the heart but the whole person of -Alice Woodyyn boond for, with the rapidity of lightning, she sprang towards him, and before a word could be uttered hod finng her arms around his neck, and almost hidden his bearded, honest face by the de luge of kisses she poured upon it. What a talking and hand shaking and kissing, again and again, began after that. What a succession of incoherent question ings and impossibly constructed answers What ungrammatical voluble sentences were scattered about. How there never seemed to be any likelirood of the performance coming to an end and matters settling down again. Fir>t—if there ever could be a first in such a complication of sayings and doings Tom would take up his little niece with so much strength of arm and hand that the child’s head appeared imperilled by the low ceiling ; then he seeded inclined to treat his own si ter in the same way ; and was not quite sure but what he would give George a hoist up in hia arms, so entirely overcome was ho by the boisterousness and strength of hia joy. Nor was that of the other three in their degree less demonstrative. They had thoroughly caught the infection ; and all the time their eyes were as fall of tears as they could hold—and Mrs Woodwyn’s didn’t hold them, for they kept tunning over and streaming down her face, so that yon would have thought a private cataract was somewhere at work, and was only hidden from view by the profusion of her brown curls, which now, faiHy escaping the bondage of all plaits and bands, were How-

[ ing about in every direction, and getting bo i mixed np and entangled with her brother’s ' locks—which were exactly the same colour, and only, as it seemed, a little less long I when lira head shook with laughter, that the i confusion of appearance was quite as great as the confusion of tongues.

By degrees, however, a little tranquillity set in, and, when every due arrangement had beau made for everybody’o comfort, the whole party fell to at the repast. After a while it was but natural that a certain amount of reaction should follow, as wo know there were many circumstances connected with the little group likely to have a depressing influence. Tho evening too began to close in, and for tho first half-hour after the chairs were pulled round tho tiro end before candles were brought the conversation took rather a gloomy turn. But presently Tom, bringing his big hand down on to his knees with a heavy spank, said, whilst the ruddy glow of the tire which he had just stirred showed his face beaming agaio with smiles, • Well, it’s no use repining ; we must try and make tho best of matters. It is true I haven’t got a penny in the world—not a stiver ; but I am full of hope and good health, thank God, and between us we will retrieve our fortunes somehow. At present I am too glad to bo in the dear old homo ones again for anything to depress me much. Dear heart 1 only to think ! sixteen years since I was in this room—and then 1 was but sixteen years old ! How small tho place looks ! And this little puss—she seems very pale and peaky, poor child! —wasn’t born or thought of; and i had only seen you onoo in my life, Mr George, and a mightily stuck-up young prig I thought you—casting sheep’s eyes oven then at Alice ; not but what she was nearly as tall at fourteen as she is now' —yes !’ looking straight at his sister and patting her cheek; ‘but you don’t look quite so plump and rosy in the face as you did then, yon poor darling ! But we’ll bring the rosea back somehow yet 1’ [To he Continued.)