LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2304, 22 August 1881, Page 4

LITERATURE.

A BAD LOT. By George Arnold, Villainy somewhere! whose? One says wo arc villlacs all. < * < * Pickpockets, each hand lusting for all that is notits own. —Tennyson’s “Maud. On a Juno morning in the year IS i5, Major Cyril Palmer and his friend, Amos Maxwell sat in the bay window of the former’s country house, discussing a certain weighty and private family affair. The major—or rather ex major, for ho retired from the army after serving in the late yj^\T —was a man of forty, bronzod, wrinkled, a tritle gray, stern-featured and leaden ■ eyed. Though quite wealthy, he affected a disorderly poverty of dress, and indulged in those habits of cheap dissipation which mark the decadenca of so many scions of old and influential country families. Maxwell—a small attorney, of political aspirations —was a very different man in outward semblance to the ex-officer, though their characters were quite similar. In place of the major’s brown and toughened face, ornamented with a coarse nose, a thick bristly moustache, and those side whiskers, which define the lower line of the inferior maxillary bone, the lawyer presented a pale, sharp countenance, smoothly shaven, and almost devoid of character. The habits which had left the major’s cheeks and nose empurpled by tiny veins, which remained Injected with blood, had increased the pallor of the attorney/s face, and made it more striking by sundry black specks and pimples, which were horribly suggestive of mortificasion. In place of the major’s bull neck and rotund chest, his friend exhibited a cavernous thoracic region. Their dress, too, was almost at opposite extremes. The officer sported hia clothes, and the lawyer was merely covered by hia. The former wore a dark-blue frogged frock coat, gray pantaloons, a small glazed cap with gilt buttons, and carried a heavy malaoca cane; while the latter wore a quietly conventional suit of rusty black, and a silk hat, half covered with bombazine in lieu of crape.

•If I had the whole property/ remarked the major, ‘I could live very comfortably. It Is not enough for two, however ; and the sooner I can get Liz married off the better.’ ‘ Bnt she won’t marry against the provisions of your excellent father’s will/ replied Maxwell. 'You can’t make her marry young Davis unless she wants to. If I understand it, she is to marry the one you approve of, or lose her half of the estate.’ ‘Yea.’

• Well, the obancea are—you’ll excuse me the chances are that she will outlive you twenty years If you die, the whole goes to her, don’t it ?’ ‘Yes.’ • Then what are you going to do about it ? I don’t see how you can gain anything by her marrying.’ « I can’t, unless I make her marry somebody I disapprove of.’ ‘She isn’t a c ool. She won’t marry for love in a cottage, and lose her property by it.’ . , .

Major Palmer was forced to confess that he didn’t think it likely. No one who had ever seen the cold, still, dispassionate, totally selfish beauty of Elizabeth Palmer, could have suspected her of any such weakness.

‘I know,’ said the major, ‘that she would give her right hand to Bill Davis, but

‘But she wouldn't give thirty thousand dollars.’

‘No ; she is fond of him —very fond of him—but she has sense with It; and, what is worse, thinks that she will only have to wait a couple of years to see me turn my toes up, then she'll marry whom she likes, and have the whole pile to herself. Can’t get ahead of these women. There isn’t any such thing in the book.’ * Not unless you come to life after she marries, and object to her choice.’ ‘ By Jove ! Amos, I believe you hit it. Can’t I fix that ?’ 4 What do you mean ?’ •Gu off, and leave a will; get some fellow to swear I’m dead ; let her marry Davit, and then turn up unexpectedly and raise thunder with the whole thing I’ 4 Too risky. It might pay to let on that yon are dying, and trust *o luck for her to anticipate your death. Yon might He unconscious, noncompoa mentis, or something of that sort —for a few weeks, and be anable to say anything about the marriage Then, just before the ceremony, you can get well enough to express an opinion against it, and, by virtue of your guardianship, claim that she has forfeited all right to the estate. She needn’t bear of it till the knot is tied.’

‘ Can that be put thi ough legally ?’ 4 Tea, by the aid of a little money.’ 4 It will be worth five thousand dollars to you if you can do it.’ ‘ I can try it, anyhow. ’ 4 Amoe, you’re a trump ! You and I were always good friends, even when I used to lick you at school; and we out'ht to give each other a lift when we can —eh ?’

‘Yes; I will do all I can. It will boa slippery business, but I think I can do it ’ 4 Good! let ns have a glass of brandy and water of It. My band isn’t very steady this morning, and I need a little something to regulate my nerves.’ A few days after this, Cyril Palmer informed his sister that he felt * very queer, ’ and was going to New York to consult a physician. He had been threatened with an ottact of mania a pntu, and she naturally supposed that, as be still drank excessively, this tendency was returning. It is humiliating to my humanitarian instincts to be obliged to confess that her only thought was of the probability of her speedy acquirement of her own liberty, and her brother’s share of the property. A letter from the city—received a fortnight later, and signed by a somewhat celebrated, though unscrupulous medical practitioner —conveyed her nows of major’s severe and dangerous Illness. She was warned that he might live but' a few days longer ; and although he coaid not see any cne save his nnrse and physician just then she must hold herself ready to visit him at any time. She immediately began making preparations for her marriage, as privately as possible, with young Davis —who had sqanndered his own wealth, and desired to squander that of the Palmers.

Before long, another missive from the doctor announced that the major lay in a state of apathy, unable to recognise any person, and evidently beyond the reach of science. If his sister wished to see him alive, she had best come at once, tshe did so, for the sake of the world’s opinion, and found him in bed, in a darkened chamber, apparently unconscious. In a period of previous lucidity, he had arranged all his affairs, and left her sole heir to and mistress of the entire property. Once assured of this fact, the young lady had no hesitation in prosecuting her plana Amos Maxwell showed her the greatest friendliness, and finished by advising her to marry young Davis, if she wished, immediately.

‘ You will pardon me. miaa,’ he said, ' If I apeak plainly, hut it is my habit. No one had a greater regard for your brother, the major than I. We were fast friends from boyhood, though our paths differed widely But he is cow gone, as far as practical results are concerned ; and I do not see why his prejudices should be respected, when they are such an unjust nature. I have often tried to reason him out of his dislike to Mr Davis, but in vain. I drew np his testament, and can assure you that, at the moment of his death you will be entirely free in this respect Now, if you will wait till then, it will seem in bad taste to marry before you have left off your mourning. My advice is for you to marry before you put it on.’ This was apparently sound counsel, and Davis seconded it with all his might. Miss Palmer thought it over, coolly and collectedly, weighed all t v e chances, and finally decided that she had best follow the suggestions of her lawyer and her lover. In a very short space of time all the arrangements for the wedding were completed. The* major, who was enjoying a loose sort cf life in town, and really bringing himself nearer to his feigned condition than he would like to acknowledge, was kept well informed of all the movements of Davis and Miss Palmar, by Amos Maxwell, who acted aa legal advised on both sides.

On the eve of the marriage, the lawyer suggested the possibility of a failure to the meyor. f When they find you’re recovered, they will use their exertion to retain possession of

their half of the ea ate,’ a aid ho ; * and though the terms of the will are commanding Elizabeth to marry according to your wishes, yet it is very difficult to keep a legal heiress out of property by any such provision in this country. If they choose to go to law and fight hard, you will likely lose the nuii.' ‘ The deuce i will ! ’

The major, too ignorant of law to know whether this was sound or not, but placing implicit confidence in Maxwell, made over every cent he possessed to that gentleman ; and expressed himself, in the presence of several witnesses, as greatly opposed to the match his sister was about to make—asserting that he would either prevent it or keep her out of her share of the estate.

Just after the ceremony had been performed Elizabeth Davis, nee Palmer, ia ceived a telegram from New York, as fol lows :

* New York, October S, 1855. * Elizabeth Palmer.—Don’t marry Davis, I am recovering, and forbid the marrisge, ‘ Oyeil Palmer.’ (To he continued.')