Thank you for correcting the text in this article. Your corrections improve Papers Past searches for everyone. See the latest corrections.

This article contains searchable text which was automatically generated and may contain errors. Join the community and correct any errors you spot to help us improve Papers Past.

Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image

LITERATURE.

KATHBE FAST. (Concluded ) I essayed conversation—talked of the latest ball and parties daring the past season, the drawing-rooms, and everything I could think of to amuse, but with small success. She gave only monosyallabio answers, and seemed bored. At last, however, when I was driven, so to speak, into a corner, I hit upon a subject which effectually drew out. I happened to have the Field in my hand, and my eye having caught the name of a famous pack of hounds I mentioned the run to my companion. The effect was electrical. She rushed into the subject with avidity—discussed the merits of every paok of hounds in the country, and seemed intimately acquainted with all their doings. From hunting we soon got to racing, and she went on rattling at a rate I found it impossible to keep up with. The train nlacKened speed, and at last—thank heavens? came to a stand-still at the platform of a station, where wo staid ten minutes for refreshments. I jumped out, and having procured a sandwich and some sherry for my volatile friend, I proceeded to get some sustenance for myself. I purposely delayed returning to the carriage until the last moment, and when I did a head was thrust out eagerly looking for me. * Ch, here you are at last ! I say, get a pack of cards at the book-stall; they’ll help to pass the time anyhow.’ The train was moving-; but at the risk of losing it I rushed to procure the coveted luxury—lost the change for half.a-crown through not being able to wait for it, and was finally shoved In the carriage by a guard and porter—breathless. ‘Oh, now, this is something like,’ said she, when the cards were opened and she had shutiled them skilfully two cr three times.

* What gamo do you prefer ?’ I asked; ‘ cribbage—bezique beggar-my-neighbor—-or— ’

‘ Ob, none of those old-fa«hioned games,’ she rejoined. ‘ Loo is ray favourite game; bat we’re only two. What do you say to a little enohro, or a hand at poker ?’

‘ Whichever yon please 1’ I gasped. ‘ Well, then, poker bo it ’ said she, * and we’ll have a sixpence a game on it, just to give it an interest, you know.’ Of course, I agreed, and in about thirtyfive minutes she had won all the small change, about one pound ten, I had about me.

‘ Surely we must bo getting near Fislden,’ she exclaimed, as the train slackened speed ‘ Yes,’ I replied ; ‘ do you alight there ? that is my destination also.’ • Indeed,’ said she. ‘ Then we may meet again ; in the meantime, old man, remember, as a great secret, that Fly-by-nlghCs a moral for the Derby 1’ The train stopped, and I handed her out, and offered to look after her things, but sho declined, and went off with a porter in quest of the trap she expected to meet her, while I resigned myself to tho recesses of a comfortable brougham which Hare had kindly sent to convey me to his house. In duo course I arrived there, and found Clara more blooming than ever. After dinner I arranged with Hare and his wife that I should be given the next morning an opportunity of speaking out to Clara and ascertaining my fats, and I don’t think I slept a wink all night in consequence. "the following morning, after breakfast, Mrs Haro said to Clara—

* My love, why don’t you practice more ? Now I shall bo busy nil thin morning with

your paps, so take Mr Carry up Into the drawing room and try to amuse him.’ Clara cast a sly glance at me, and I felt that ‘ now or never ’ must be my motto. On arrival at the drawing-room Clara seated herself at tto piano, while II stood by her side. She played a few chords, when I gently laid my hand upon her shoulder and stopped her. 1 1 lara ’ I said, • I have something (o ray to you—will yon hoar mo ?’ ‘ Surely, Mr Curry,’ she replied, turning, I thought a trifle pale, but still smiling sweetly. ‘ Well, then, Ulara,’ I said, * it must come out sooner or later. I love you, Clara, and wish yon to be my wife—will you, dear.’ Never have havo I seen a girl to overcome. She covered her face wbh her hands, and ai the t«ars gushed through her fingers, her whole frame shook with sobs. I attempted to soothe her with no »vail. At length' she looked up, and with on expression of suffering I shall not readily forget, ‘Mr Curry—dear Mr Curry—l know I ought to bo very grateful to you for the offer you have made me, but I cannot —indeed I cannot —accept it 1 Believe me, I I never thought yon cared for me like that! Oh 1 Mr Cnrry, I iove someone else—my cousin Fred—oh, so dearly 1 And papa says I shall never marry him, because he is poor and extravagant, aud only a cornet in a cavalry regiment. Oh, do forgive, won’t you V What could I say ? I began to say how sorry I was, and how I regretted that I was not the fortunate cousin Fred, when just as I was in the middle of my stumbling explanation, the door opened and a servant entered saying—‘l bog pardon, miss—a visitor for you ’ ‘ Ob, yes, it's all right,’ said a voice outside, which I thought I ought to know. 1 What! Clara, my dear, is that you ? What an age since I have seen you ! ’ Anti behold the very identical 1 girl of the period'—my fellow-traveller of the day before —rushed into the room and fondly embraced Clara. As soon as the hugging was over she turned and recognised mo. ‘ Ah, mister, so you’re here. Well, I’ll give you your revenge at poker some other time ; but at present I will speak to Clara, so just clear out. Will you mind 1 ’

I left the room and went straight to Hare and his wife, who, when they heart of my ill success, earnestly requested me to slay with them, in the hopes of Clara’s coming around. But that I would not do. Clara had told me that she loved her cousin, and in that case I felt that I could not press my suit; farther. I made an excuse for going back to town, and returned by the afternoon train, a wiser but not a happier man. *##**■

It waa four or five months after this that I received an invitation from a certain General, well known for his convivial hospitality, to pay him a visit in camp at Aldershot on the occasion of a grand review, and also to stay a day or two with them in his hut. I went and saw the show, enjoyed my day, and, after having done ample justice to the excellent dinner placed before ns by our host, found myself in a luxurious smoking-room surrounded by laughing faces and merry jests, I was in the aet of choosing a cigar from a box on the table when I felt a touoh on my coat sleeves, and, turning round, saw an excessively young looking gentleman in undress military suit. His face somehow seemed familiar to me, but all doubt vanished as he smiled and said holding out his cigar case—‘try one of these ; they are not so good as the one you gave me going down to Fielden a while ago, but they’re passable 1’ It was my lady friend! I looked the astonishment I felt, and cousin Fred (for it waa he) took me by the buttonhole, and led me into the corner to explain. 1 You see, old fellow,’ said ho, ‘ Clara and I h ve been “spoons” ever since we were kids together. Her governor forbade me the house until I got steady and made a competency, as he calls it. But hearing soma time ago that some old bloke was going in for her, I conceived the idea of disguising myself and running down to nee that things were all right. Clara soon relieved my mind as to that. But, I say, what a jolly old fool that other cove muet have been, eh ? Onlyfancy, you know. You must have thought me rather fast, eh ? But, come, let’s have a brandy and soda, and I’ll give you your revenge at poker. What d'ye say ?’ I was agreeable, and for the second time waa denuded of my spare cash, but cousin Fred gained a friend, and although I gave away a brido the other day, at my own particular request, he does not know to this hour that I and ‘ that other cove ’ are one and the same man. ROBINSON'S WIFE. There’s no doubt about It that Robinson waa a good fellow at heart, and meant well ; but it’s astonishing what an amount of trouble a man may bring upon himself by undertaking too much for his fellowcreatures. I don’t suppose there was another man in our st -ro that took the interest Robinson did in the different wardrobes of this fellow clerks. If a man got a new hat, Robinson noticed it right away ; wanted to know where it was bought, when, and why, and generally concluded by saying that if the purchaser had consulted him, he might have been a better bargain. And I've no doubt he would. Robinson would have made it a point to favor him with hia influence and experience, both of which were considerable. The same way with coats, or pants, or boots, or anything ! But, notwithstanding all this, very few of onr boys consulted Robinson in these matters ; they generally bought their articles with a reckless indiscrimination that was painful to a man constituted as Robinson was. It ssemed hard, when a man took the interest in hla fellow-creatures that Robinson did, that hia motives should be misconstrued and unappreciated. 1 remember when I bought that new ulster of mine, I disliked, for some reason or other, to see Robinson I had a rodiculoua aversion to telling him just where I got it, and when, and how much it coat, and what I did with the other one. It was a kindly sympathy on liobioson’s part, there’s no doubt about that; but it was wasted, as far as our boys were concerned. «Why don’t the fellow mind hia own business?’ they said. ‘What does ho want to manage other people’s concerns for?’ Bo I was glad when he tnld me, confidentially, that ho was about to be married. I felt that his interest would be so absorbed iu one object that it would be impossible to diffuse it all over the universe.

Robinson seemed tohave found a treasure. Of course, everybody thinks so ; but I knew that Robinson would know more, and see more, and be less likely to be deceived, than other men, and he had, as I supposed, gained the confidence of the family into which he had proposed to marry. I was afraid his projected mother-in-law might object to some o£ Robinson’s ways, but he told me he got on with her splendidly. I thought she was a remarkable woman, not altogether because she got on so well with Robinson, but from Robinson's conversation I imagined she must be very clever. i The fact is,’ said Robinson, ‘we are mutually interested in the same topics. We sit and talk about domestic matters for hours together, while Annie thrums over her new piece on the piano, and Mrs Page has told mo, time and again, if there’s one thing more than another she admires In my character, it’s the interest I take in little domestic details that most men desf ise or hold in utter indifference. You see. Smith, marriage is a sacred obligation,’ • Undoubtedly, Robinson.’ ‘ And requires study, Smith. I wouldn’t have been a successful buyer if I hadn’t inquired into all the little intricacies of our line of business.’ i You certainly can judge of a good article, Robinson.’ < Ah, Smith, the one I’ve secured now is beyond price. She’s just the kind cf goods a man wants to rest his eyes upon when he's tired of shams and shoddies. Annie isn’t brought up to dazzle and deceive. Her mother has taken groat pains to inculcate in her daughter qualifications of mind and character that will make her a good wife and mother. Mrs Page is an excellent woman, Smith.' And I suppose her daughter is like her ? «Well, no Smith. She can’t converse and reason as her mother can, nor has she her mother’s appreciative qualties. Annie’s mind is less astute.’

• Well, she’s young yet.’ ‘ She’s as simple and as pliable as a little child. I’m a happy man. Smith.’ I was delighted to hear him say to, and told him so, and at the wedding I expressed It «fl my opinion that hia happiness would

last I was charmed with his wife. She seemed such a nice, jolly little creature, so onaftboted and had a wonderful magnetism about her. hho was as plump and as round as a little partridge, with big, black, melting eyes, and a pretty little mouth. I can’t say I was so much drawn to her mother. See was a fine looking woman, with a deep voice, and something very firm about the contour of her jaw. Mra Page had more of what they call character in her face than her ■laughter would ever have; but I haven’t the admiration for a face with character that some men have. Robinson spent the better part of an hour talking with her that night, while I was chatting with his wife I came away convinced that marriage must be a very pleasant thing, with a little wife like Robinson’s, and bachelor quarters looked exceedingly dingy and forlorn. I don’t know how it was, but I took an extraordinary interest in Robiuson’s mar. risge, and was sorry to sea a cloud on the matrimonial horizon before six months were over.

* We’ve gone to housekeeping, you know,’ said Robinson. ‘ I was afraid Annie would want to board at home with her mother, but Mrs Page agreed with mo it was better to build a little neat of our own. She took the kindest interest in everything, and wanted to go house-hunting with Annie, and to help her pick out the furniture. But I had already secured a house, and bought the furniture of friends of mine in business, who would favour me in pries. As to bed linen, carpets, and things of that sort, I got them here in the store at coat, In Heaven’s name, Smith, is there any reason why a man shouldn’t hire his own house and purchase his own furniture ?’

* None whatever,’ I replied, * unless it may be that hia wife desires the same ptivilego.’ ' But the didn’t. Smith. Annie said she was glad to leave it to me. I took the dear litt e woman in my arms and kissed her, and felt my heart lightened of a heavy load that somehow had rested there since my last interview with her mother. But Mrs Page’s manner is yet very unpleasant, Smith—very. I don’t want to say that she accuses me of robbing Annie of any legitimate happiness, but she convoys some such irapreseion to my mind, and it makes me feel like a malefactor. I’m so found of my wife that the thought of depriving her of the smallest joy is misery to me.’

* Well, these little trifles will all come right, Robinson. It isn't as if your mother-in-law lived with you.’ * She’s only round the corner, Smith, I thought of that when I took the house, that it would be so comfortable for Annie to live near her old home, and have the attention and advice of her mother. As heaven is my judge, Smith, I have tried to take every burden from my wife. I’ve opened accounts with the neighboring grocer, butcher, baker, and hired an excellent servant. I leave a generous margin for sundries, which I look into rigidly at the first of every month, and settle with the other accounts, when we began again with a clear fresh record. A woman certainly ought to be happy when sho has nothing to do bat enjoy herself. I’ve even persuaded her to put all her little expenses down in my book, so that she knows where every penny of her money goes ; and, ns I said before, I take care of the household expenses myself. The servant comes to me every morning for orders before I go to business, so that Annie scarcely knows what ehe’a g ing to have for dinner. Could a man do more for his wife than that, Smith V

‘ Perhaps he might better do less, Robinson. I’m only a miserable bachelor myself, and know nothing about women ; but the question is, if you’re not erring on the generous side—if you’re not taking too much upon yourself.’ ‘ A man can’t do too much, Smith, for the woman he adores.’

Just then a customer came in, and I was glad to get away. .Robinson evidently had the beat intention in the world. He loved his wife, Ho even esteemed his mother-in-law. I never saw a man work so hard in what he considered his line of duty, and so utterly fail to recommend it to others, as poor Robinson, But he began to be brighter and apparently happier. The anniversary of his wedding was close at hand, end ho was interested in a gift to his wife. ‘ I was puzzled what to get,’ said Bobinson. * You see she’s got almost everything, Smith; her wedding presents embraced so many little adornments and knickescks. At last I hit upon a black silk dress—a woman can’t have too many, and I can got a bargain down in the store just now. She said she’d rather have the money, and buy it outside ; but I persuaded her that would be foolish. So she’s coming in to choose the trimmings this afternoon, and if she comes while I’m out, you’d take care of her, won’t you ?’ * With pleasure,’ I said. And it so happened that she did come while Bobinson was away, and seemed to bring all the sunshine with her, I told bar that her husband had left her in my care, and begged her to nee mo in any way that suggested itself to her; that It would be my happiness to serve her. I suppose there was an honest fervour about this deolarat’on that impressed Mrs Robinson. It had so happened that I was able to ehow her some little favours and attentions in return for the many that her husband had done for me. I told her I was under obligation o to Robinson, Of course, I didn’t explain that it was his desiring to help me select my hats, and coats, and boots ; it wasn’t necessary to enter into these little details, but she understood that a natural gratitude on my part led me to send her in return a few little trifles, like bouquets, or new books, or mnsio, or opera tickets, once In a while. So she knew the declaration of mine, that day at the store, that I would bo happy to servo her, came right from my heart.

‘You are so good and kind,’she said. Then all at once an eager wistfuluess leaped Into her eyes ‘ I wish I could dare ask you to do me a favor, Mr Smith—a very great favor,’ she said. ‘ Do,’ I replied. * I won’t abuse your generosity. ’ ‘Oh! I wonder if it will be right ?'she said, clasping her little gloved hands, and looking up in my face with a charming air of indecision. ‘ I wonder if T ought to do such a thing ?’ * The fact that you desire to do it la a proof that it is blameless,’ I replied. ‘ I do desire it, ever so much,’ she said : ‘ and it is perfectly blamless. I’ve set my heart on giving my husbsnd a present upon our marriage anniversary.’ * Is that all, Mrs Eobinson?’ ‘ All!’ she replied, tapping her foot with her parasol, with an air of vexation, bha was looking upon the floor now, and a warm color burned in her cheek. * It’s so hard to explain to you,' she said, ‘ I don’t like to borrow money cf mamma, because she don’t understand my husband, and makes so many unpleasant remarks, and it’s quite a large sum I want for the present I’m afraid it will cost ten dollars.’ Here she hesitated, and her color grew more and more vivid, {To he continued.')

Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/GLOBE18811118.2.27

Bibliographic details

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2380, 18 November 1881, Page 4

Word Count
3,453

LITERATURE. Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2380, 18 November 1881, Page 4

LITERATURE. Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2380, 18 November 1881, Page 4

Help

Log in or create a Papers Past website account

Use your Papers Past website account to correct newspaper text.

By creating and using this account you agree to our terms of use.

Log in with RealMe®

If you’ve used a RealMe login somewhere else, you can use it here too. If you don’t already have a username and password, just click Log in and you can choose to create one.


Log in again to continue your work

Your session has expired.

Log in again with RealMe®


Alert