LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2390, 30 November 1881, Page 4

LITERATURE.

UNDER COMPULSION. 1 Poor Emeliao ! I am so thoroughly sorry for you !’ And kind Mrs ;Maberley showed her sympathy in a very warm kiss on the Bf ft cheek of Emeline Maynard. They were

seated together in Mrs Maborly’s lino, airy room, on the second floor of the Summer Hotel, in front of a window that overlooked tho glittering amplitude of Long Island Sound, bathed just then in the full fervors of an August noon. Pretty Mrs Clara Maberley Is a young widow of abont thirty-two, and Emeline Maynard is a very charming maiden of eighteen, with whom, since they first became acquainted, scarcely a fortnight ngo, Mrs Maberly professes to have fallen desperately In love. ‘ I wish that a certain other person was inclined to be as friendly as you are,’ Emiline said, and her voice trembled fearfully. ‘ Oh, Mrs Maberley ! why is it that Uncle Fane opposes my marriage with Leonard ? Surely there must be some other reason than that of hia family. Because Leonard Leavitt’s father was a self-made man, what possible excuse can Uncle Fane find for everlastingly separating us ? I nsed to think that hia old habit of talking about “respectability, respectability,” for hours at a time, was merely a harmless habit, and nothing more. But I have found, to my sorrow, that he can sacrifice the happiness of a human heart to this absurd hobby of his. I wish poor papa was alive. If so. he would never permit Uncle Fane, for all ho is so rich and poweifal, to stand between myself and Leonard Leavitt!’ ‘Ah, Emeline! It is idle to wish for impossibilities. You say that your uncle is firmly resolved, and that he has toldyou he desires for you a match more socially re. spectable than that which would be represented by your union with Leonard Leavitt, Well, as far as I can seo, my child, there are two courses open to you. One Is—elopement.’

‘ Elopement! Oh, Mrs Maberly! I never thought that [you would advi'e so wicked ‘ I don’t advise it, my darling. Believe me, I am very far from advising it. There is another course which, though difficult, la certainly more preferable. I moan persna- ► Un—to prevail upon your uncle to discard his objections, by sheer force ‘of skilful diplomacy.’ H malice's face tell. ‘lf you only knew, Mrs Maberly, how often I have pleaded and besought Uncle Fane, and all to no purpose He never gets angry. Flying into a temper isn’t his style, you know. He doesn’t bluster nor fume ; he smiles and toys with his watch chain, and placidly shakes his head, _ Then, when I have finished my supplication, he generally crosses one leg or the and during a prolonged stare at hie well polished hoots tells me In slow, grave tones that my mother was an Abercombie. With Uncle Fane it is a supreme favor on the part of Providence to have had one’s mother an Abercombie. I think that he considers the world’s population to be made up of Abercombies, and a few millions of inferior beings hardly worthy of mention in so august a connection.’

‘You put his favorite weakness in a very ludicrous manner,’ laughed Mrs Maberley; ‘ but I must say, Emeline, that, as far as my experience of your uncle’s character goes, it certainly correspond a truthfully with yonr description.’ After Emeline Maynard left her chamber that morning, Mrs Maberly sat for a long time quite silent, as though deeply absorbed in thought, tho pretty, countless-hued roll of her embroidery lying untouched in her lap. At last she started np with an impulsive air peculiar to her, and throwing the embroidery on a side table, exclaimed : • I msy as well try it. Everything Is fair, they say, in love as in war. There is no better scheme that I can think of at present ; and poor Emeline has endured her uncle’s cruelty long enough.’ She descended the stairs, not long afterward, and passed out on the broad, highpillared piazza of the hotel. Quite a number of people were assembled there, and to many of these Mrs Maberly cordially bowed. One gentleman, leaning against a pillar and looking toward tho opposite beach with a languid air, Mrs Maberley observed rather attentively. She approached him presently, and lightly touched hia shoulder. He turned, showing a pale, pinched face, adorned—if we may use the term —by a scanty gray board, trimmed and combed, however, with the utmost neatness. Hia costnme, too, was marked by something which, it not absolutely foppery, bore a decided resemblance to it.

‘ Charming morning,’ said Mrs Maberley, looking seaward, * Delightful, ’ assented the gentleman, whoie voice, by-thowoy, seemed to correspond with hia appearance, being artificial and peculiar in its sound, and having a certain affected drawl that Mrs Maberley was by no means fond of hearing. ‘ Yon are, doubtless, surprised at my lounging attitude Mrs Maberley, I confess that to lounge about piazzas is not my usual custom. ’

‘No, Mr Abercrombie. I was not surprised by your attitude, however.’ * And may I ask why not I’ ‘Because, whatever Mr Fane Abercrombie chooses to do becomes him,’ Mrs Maberley answered, with her pleasantest smile, and an engaging twinkle of her merry eyes, that was by no means lost upon her hearer. •Oh ! thanks, thanks. You are very kind to say so, I am sure.’ And Mr Abercrombie coughed behind a delicate handkerchief, cambric, and lavenderscented.

‘Yonder is a very cool and Inviting spot,’ suddenly exclaimed Mra Maberley, glancing toward an adjacent corner of the piazza. ‘ And see there are two chairs arranged so nicely together. What a charming tete-a-tete you and I might have provided— ’ ‘Provided what, Mrs Maberley.’ ‘ I only had my embroidery. ’ * Have you left it upstairs ’’ ‘Yea.’ ‘ In your room V ‘Yes.’ ‘ Can’t I fetch It for you ?’ ‘ It will be too much trouble, I know,’ * But I assure you that it will not. 1 Mr Abercrombie bowed, and moved smilingly away. A second after he had left the piazza and entered the honse, Mra Maberley rapidly followed the direction he had taken. She saw him ascend the stairs, and, at a safe distance, silently pursued him. He now stood in front of the door of her own chamber unlocking it. Presently he opened the door and entered. Mrs Maberley followed rapidly, and herself entered the chamber, just as Mr Abercombie was removing the piece of embroidery from the side table. She closed the door behind her, and began quietly to lock It. Mr Fane Abercombie heard her, quietly as she moved, and turned around In some surprise. ‘So you concluded to come yourself, Mrs Maberiey ?’ he stammered, hardly believing what he saw.

‘ Y-o-s,’ drawllngly spoken. * Excuse me a moment, Mr Abercombie, while I lock you In.’ j , 4 Look me|in, madam !’ * Precisely.’ Mr Abercombie stared with amazed eyes. ‘ I don’t think that I exactly comprehend your meaning, he said. ‘ Well, then, I will endeavor to make It clear,’ Mra Maberley had locked the door on the inside by this time and placed the key In her pocket. * I have heard, Mr Fane Abercombie,’ she placidly continued, • that yon have a very high opinion of what is called respectability. You are proud of the name you bear, and would consider any.'pubUoity attaching to It a decided disgrace. Am I right Y ‘ You are, unquestionably, madam.’ * Any publicity, for instance, like that of being found hidden In a lady’s closet.’ ‘Madam!’

‘ I thought you would get indignant,’ proceeded Mrs Maberley, with a langh. ‘ Such scandals are bad enongh when a man‘of twenty-five is connected with them. But when one of sixty, or thereabouts— ’ ‘ Be good enongh to unlock that door. Mrs Maberley !’ exolaimed Mr Fane Abercombie, with irate haughtiness. ‘ I do not understand yonr conduct, though I understand enough of It to see that you are attempting some—semes— 11

* Practical joke. Mi Abercrombie 1 Upon my word, you are right. With the exception, however, that the whole matter is anything but a joke to yon. It too closely concerns the happiness of your niece, Emlline Maynard.’

‘My niece?’ ‘Yea! Do you know, Mr Fane Abercomble, that unless yon make me a solemn promise this morning, every parson in this hotel shall know, before evening, that tho very respectable personage whom I have the honor of addressing was found by me bidden in a closet of my chamber ?’ ‘ But such a statement, madam, will be, as you know, an atrocious falsehood.’ Mrs Maberley laughed a gay, little, malicious laugh, her eyes sparkling with fun.

‘Of course it will,’she answered, coolly. 'People will believe otherwise, however, when I vouoh for its truth.’ • For heaven’s sake, madam! inform me why I am to be scandalized in this—this shocking style ?’ ‘.Because, ’ and Mrs Maberley’a eyes Hashed now scornfully, ‘ because, sir, you have treated your neice, Emeline, in so brutal a manner. There la no objection to Leonard Leavitt for Emeline’s husband, save an absorb, tyrannical, snobbish one, which you yourself have raised,’ ‘ And you wish me—’ stammered poor Mr Pane Abercombie, to remove that objeo tion.

‘ Unless you do so I shall open this door and shriek away your character, through this great hotel, in less than five minutes.’ ‘ Shriek away my character ?’ * Exactly 1 ’ exolaimed Mrs Maberley. ‘Fxtreme cases require extreme remedies. Moreover, I shall give you but a short warning. ’ The man glared at her as if he would like to knock her down.

She went on cooly. ‘ Consider, Mr Fane Abercombie, ’ she said, ‘ Which is it to be ? Your respectability preserved intact, or is it utter and irremediable ruin P lam in earnest. I was never more in earnest in my life, I love Emeline, and have an opportnnity of saving her from a great unhappiness. Yon are in a trap. You had better yield gracefully, acknowledging your defeat. Come, decide quickly. Either swear me a solemn, sacred, binding oath that you will freely consent to Emelina’s marriage with Leonard Leavitt, or else find yourself suddenly converted from the irreproachable Mr Fane Abercombie into somebody whose best friends feel privileged to talk against, as having lost caste and respectability.’ The victim paused a moment. But there was no escape. ‘Madam,’ he said, at last, ‘I agree to your terms. I will take the oath you desire.’

He spoke coldly and stiffly. Mrs Maberley bowed and unlocked the door, without a word. The next day Mr Fane Abercombie himself announced Leonard Leavitt’s engagement to Emeline Maynard. The marriage followed soon after. Mrs Maberley’s victory was signal and entire ; but Mr Fane Abercombie never spoke to her afterward. For this, however, she did not care. She had her revenge, when the happy pair were safely united, by telling the story of hia promise made under compulsion.