LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2296, 12 August 1881, Page 4

LITERATURE.

THE LOVER’S LEAP. A Modern Tale. Chapter I. The Introduction. [“London Society.”] Maiden aunts are a peculiar dispensation. I do not mean that the dispensation is a peculiar one, but that the aunts are peculiar. Asa rule, they have money, hang out hopes to a ceobcw or niece, wear glasses and fronts, and are rigid and requiring. They lean to th-olngy, Evangelical clergy, and a weekly distribution of tracts. They ore sabbatical in their observance of the seventh day, denounce the theatre, and view the mildest havannah as a spark from the hottest regions of profundity. duch, at all events, is my experience of the race. I had two of them. One departed, and my expected legacy merged in the second ; thus binding me over to a tighter and direr state of bondage. My aunt Enphrosyne Gorges possessed something besides her high-sounding name to raise her to the ranks of the aristocracy. She was nearly six feet high, had white tapering hands, was a twenty-fourth cousin of Lord Tatterham. and owned a lofty house In Merrion square, Dublin. It was here that I was admitted to play my part as slave, sycophant, and and I contrived to enact it as skilfully aa I could, having only a Oastle-Baokrent sort of habitation to fall back upon in the far west, if I fell out with present prospects. I am afraid, after all, I waa a bad hypocrite. My cousin Bob Bright had ten times my gifts of diplomacy Ho ccnld always put on a deeply interested air when ha was admitted to an audience of my antique relative, and accept with rising emotion her parting gift of a black-edged tract, bearing the portentious title, the ‘ Dark Pit and its Denizens.’ , . _ For me, I waa apt to be remorseful if I humbugged too unblushlngly; and this combination of scrupulousness and subtilty was a distasteful admixture, tending to an uncomfortable state of the internal regions. Far batter to have been thorough-going, like my cousin Bib. I think the soiepoe of dijsimulatiou is not sufficiently studied, considering how essential it is to our happiness. To make way In the world, to attain any amount of reasonable prosperity, one should have neither heart nor emotion, but should be able to simulate both. Sensitive people are crushed at once. Enthusiasm is a mistake. The elements for success are a cool clever brain, unflinching courage, and untold audacity. , ~ , It may be thought that this rule can scarcely extend to the fairer sex, with whom softness and sweetness are so enticingly associated; but here affection steps in adroitly on the scene. They can show tenderness, by all means; never feel it. A woman of this genius passes far in the race her delicate shrinking sister, who blushes away her chances in life, and seldom rises to the occasion when a line has to be oast or a prize landed. I may as well admit at onoa that I had not succeeded very well up to this point in ona line of tactics : I made no way with the ladies. Whether I always accredited them with acting a part, or found them weak in this branch of education, they stood denuded in my eyes of all those fair f actuations which transfix and inanare others Now it did not run very well with this peculiarity that my aunt Enphrosyne cherished a firm theory that young men should marry and ‘ settle ’ early. I waa wise enough to Indorse all her views when laid down to me tract-wise ; but here acquiescence ended : I could not put them into practice. One morning in the dog days my aunt had held forth to me rather warmly on some subject from behind the tea urn, and I felt almost suffocating. I escaped as soon aa possible into the garden at; the back of the bouse. It was but a 'narrow slip of territory, and few flowers of the more delicate species flourished within its Imprisonment. Nevertheless my aunt had made the most of it. A trellis-work entwined with roses and jasmine surmounted the wall, there waa a grass plat in the centre, and a border at either side of a gravel walk, well stocked with sweet pea and hardy annnals. Her crowning piece, however, was a' large waving plant which stood near an arbour in the far corner. She called it * The Pampas, Falnstris, Parnassus Grass.’ The name I thought long, and the plant likewise. Its tall stalks, with their light puffy heads, seemed always in the way; and I didn’t like it somehow. At the same time I was wholly guiltless of any premeditation as to the catastrophe whioh was at band. At this hour my aunt Enphrosyne waa generally absorbed in some matutinal consultations with the cook, and I thought myself safe. I draw surreptitiously from my pocket a small imbrowned case. My nerves wanted soothing and the insects smothering. Let the cost be what it would, I must have a cigar. Scarcely, however, was a light vesta ignited when a step was on the gravel walk ; and with an expletive, Into which I fear the word ‘blazes ’ intruded, I flung the match hurriedly away. * George 1 ’ said my aunt, approaching, ‘lve some news for yon.’ She held an open letter in her hand, and I turned to her attentively. ‘ You have heard me speak of Miss Lufleigh ? ’ she pursued— ‘ Letititla Eliza Luflelgh—she is a sweet serious girl, and has just come into a fortune, willed to her by her godmother—twelve thousand pounds. George, she’s the wife for you ! I will give you an introduction, and yon can make her acquaintance at once. I have shown some kindness to Dr. Lufleigh’s family before now, and I expect they will receive you as a son ‘ And heir ? ' I interposed. 'Don’t be flippant, sir. This is a serious matter. Matrimony is an important step in life. But I have a little tract — 1 ‘ O annt, don’t, don’t ?’ I broke in desperately. ‘1 feel all that’s before me ; ’ and passing my hand through my somewhat disordered locks, I fixed a dark look on vacancy, with the proper amount of Intensity. ‘ It is happiness that is before before yon,’ piped my annt, in her sharpest key. * Mias Letitia is young, handsome, and clever. In a word, she has wit, wealth, and worth. Can you ask anything more 1 Tell me that, sir, I beg of you.’ And my aunt, warm with her oration, bent enthusiastically towards her pot Pampas. * Isn’t it grand ? ’ she murmured, and stroked it affactioi. ately. ‘ It’s getting golden, gorgeous, quite red towards the centreand she peered closer Into its depths. * But gracious! what’s that?’ and with a bound a v e was back on me, ‘ Good heaven’s, It’s on tire!’

* Sunstroke ! fireflies I spontaneous combustion!’ I cried incoherently. ‘ George, you’ve done it,’ said my aunt, in that awful tone which seemed to thrill everything like an earthquake. ‘ How could you ? How dare you ?’ ‘I—I didn’t—l didn’t mean it,’ I finished up, for she had seen the fib in my face. 'I was lighting a match to scatter the midges. I suppose it fell somehow ; the place is as dry as tinder, and —’ * O you wretch! and you stand there, and my Pampy in flames ! The seat will catch in a moment, the house, the whole square !‘ The picture was so terrible that I sprang madly to the pump, and calling all bauds to aid we had presently drenched arbour, wal’s, walks, shrubs, and lucklessly my aunt herself with a primeval deluge of water. Everything being burnt or soaked, I fled to the house. My aunt’s cap was done for, a new dress, and any remnant of reason the first shock bad spared.

It is scarcely necessary to explain that after this escapade I fell meekly into all Mias Euphrosyne’a views respecting the matrimonial investment ; and the very next day was despatched ardently on my mission.

Dr. Lufleigh was a country doctor residing Id a southern part of Kilkenny. Ho was the owner of two daughters, who both had the reputation of beauties, but nothing particular had resulted therefore uo to this point, owing, no doubt, to the lack of more Intrinsic merits. It was the elder who had become now the lucky legatee of the bequest from a deceased godmother; and owing to this happy circumstance, I waa privileged to make her acquaintance, and proceed to any length in my disin terested admiration. i

I had my portmanteau packed with if ly glossiest suits ; I had the letter of introduction deposited In safety somewhere about my heart ; and had jumped into the cab

whioh was to convey me to the station, I whan aunt Gorges appeared warningly on the doorstep of the Merrion-square mansion. ‘Mind,’ she oxolaimed—‘mind, George, that it’s Letitia—not Lucy. Be clear and clever. Don’t forget!’ As this injunction had been hurled at me for about the fiftieth time, it seemed such a palpable reflection on my obtusenees that I fired up at once. Was Iso deadly stupid that I must confound Letitia with Lucy, the elder with the younger, the heiress with the portionless 7 {To he Continued .)