LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2418, 5 January 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

WILFUL MARGARET. [From tho “Argosy.”] A I.OXO, low room with oaken panels, dark with age, and quaint, old-fashioned furniture speaking of a by-gone generation. A tall, noble-looking girl, with glossy, dark brown hair, drawn back from the beautifully chiselled face and fastened at the back in a massy coil by a small gold comb. Is standing before a tall and narrow _ ebony-framed mirror. A maid Is engaged in fastening the long sweeping black dress that fits so closely to her exquisite figure as she stands in a thoughtful attitude. * You are never going to ride Wild Sorrel to-morrow, Miss Margaret?’ exclaimed the girl as she finished her task. * Who told you that I was P’ answered her mistress In a careless, indifferent tone, as she arranged a moss rose-bud in the ftont of her dress. «Bookie, ma'am. The grooms soy that she isn’t safe for a lady to ride. They would like to tell the squire, but dare not, for fear of your anger.' Miss Darrell laughed. ‘ They are afraid of me, are they ! What does uncle John oall me, Marian ?’ * ‘ Wilful Madge,’ Miss Margaret, answered the girl timorously. ‘ And you know that he calls me * Wilful Madge’ because I am too self-willed to allow anyone to thwart me ? 8o you see, Marian,’ she continued, ‘ that whether tho grooms tell the squire or not, it will make no difference to me. I have said that I would conquer Wild Sorrel, and conquer her I will. As to Buckle, it cannot bo any business of bis,’

Marian was too much accustomed to her young mistress's imperious ways to be surprised at her tone. Margaret Darrell, the orphan niece of jovial John Darrell, tho bachelor owner of Waverley Hall, bad long reigned despotically over all with whom she she came in contact. With a musical ripple of song, she opened the door and descended the broad flight of stairs that led to the hall, the sides of which, with their quaintly carved panels, were covered with dim and faded portraits of Margaret’s martial ancestors and their numerous trophies of the chase and battle field. With a soft, gliding movement she crossed the curiously tiled floor and reached a small door that opened Into a large conservatory. A large magnolia, with its luscious, overpowering scent, faced her. Beneath its shade a tall and slim, but well formed, lithe man, in a black velvet lonnglng coat, was standing moodily, rolling a cigarette between his long taper fingers. George Wilson was, as all his friends admitted, wonderfully handsome. Soft waves of glorious golden-tinted hair rippled over his shapely head, his rich full lips were heavily fringed with a silken moustache of the same hue, while the large luminous eyes that slumbered beneath the voluptuous fulness of the lids were Intensely blaok. He and Colonel Moaaingham—his fellow guest at the hall—were rival suitors for the hand of Margaret Darrell. Bach was a worthy match, as regarded wealth and position, for the squire's heiress, bat George Wilson lacked the steady nobility of character possessed by his older and more staid rival. Fickleness and evenessence were the characteristics which marred hla nature. It was impossible to say whloh Madge favoured the more; but George was the more oonfident of the two. She used greater freedom and less restraint with him than she did with the colonel; but then she had known the one from girlhood and the other but for a few weeks.

*So you have oome at last,’ mattered Mr George crossly, as Margaret made her appearance ‘Yes,’ she answered, demurely adding, with provoking meekness, 4 You told me to come, and I came.’ Casting down her eyes, a roguish smile flitted round the corners oE her dimpled month as she toyed gently with a rose-bud that was nestling on her breast. * Who gave you that ?’ he demanded fiercely, his eyes following his action. * Colonel Massingham ' ‘ And yon accepted it, after having refused the one I offered you this morning P’ The eyes were flashing very angrily now.

‘Don’t be nonsensical, George. You interrupted me before I had finished. It Is a new kind grown by Colonel Masslngham’a gardener, and my nnole wishes to get some for the rosery ; there’s a large bunch of them on the drawing-room table.’ But she did not say who had singled out that bad for her, .TGeorgo Wilson appeared but half molified by this explanation. Her cool indifference seemed to exasperate him. * Madge,’ he cried passionately, ‘you have no more feeling than a block of marble, and you trifle with me as though I were cold as yourself. Oh, Margaret, tell me whether you love me ? You shall not go until you have answered me.’ In Ids possion he grasped her tightly by the arm. Miss Darrell was half startled, but only for a moment, ‘ Hou absurd you are, George!’ she cried with a low laugh as she withdrew from his grasp ; *if you are going to be so rough, I will not stay with you. What do you mean ?’ ‘Then give me an answer,' he growled eurily, in his jealous anger ; as she slowly edged her way from him. To torment the world came natural to Miss Darrell. ‘ If foolish moths will flutter near the candle they must expect to get their wings singed,’ cried she ; and with a rippling laugh, she opened the outer door, slipped through, and dexteriouely turned the key in the look to prevent his following her. Leaving George Wilson to digest this at his leisure, she sought the library, and, throwing herself In % low fauteull, tried to lose her*elf in ‘■ho pages of the “ Saturday Review,” but v successfully ; and she soon thew it from her in discontent aud an access of Irritation,

‘ Why, Madge I what’s up? exclaimed a cheery, good tempered voice, os a stout, jovial looking old gentleman entered the room; ‘has the “Saturday Beviler ” as John Bright dabbed it, been catting up your pet novel—eh?’ And the squire dropped into a chair opposite Madge and regaled himself with a copious pinch of snuff. ‘George has been rather out of sorts, lately, has he not ?’ continued he, as she sat without speaking. ‘ Has he ?’ was the careless reply given now, as she caressed the head of a large mastiff that was nestling lovingly against her knees ; ' perhaps he has lost heavily on the St. Leger? George's luok and his knowledge of horses are abont equal.’ The squire looked at herou-iously. ‘Well, Madge,' he said at last, ‘ George’s income Is a large one ; It can stand a few expensive mistakes on the turf ; with your sharp head at his right hand we may some day see him the owner of the winner of the Derby. Come child, which of your two lovers is it to be ? George or Wilfrid ?’ ‘I don’t know that It need be either, uncle. Why do you ask ?* * Well, my dear,’ began the squire, as he robbed nervously at his gold-rimmed eyeglasses, for his easy, laissez faire nature was rather apt to quail before the energetio self-will of his imperious niece, and her supreme Indifference to her own good, ‘the fact if, Massingbam has been with me this morning, you’ve made a conquest of a noble fellow, Madge. Yon have only to say the word to be mistress of Massingbam Hall —the finest place in the country ’ ‘Stop, nnole John.’ A look of displeasure was creeping over Margaret’s expressive face as she interrupted : ‘ May I ask what Colonel Massingham means ?’ ‘ Means ?’ ' Yes. How justify his conduct in asking you for my hand before he knows that 1 am willing to bestow lit’ ‘Why—l'm sure I don’t know,' faltered her unale; ‘ Massingbam has somehow got it Into his head that he is not quite Indifferent to you, I fanoy. And I don’t see, Madge,’ he con tinned, plucking np a little more spirit, * that he is to be blamed for seeking my consent before speaking to yon.’ ‘No, nncle dear,’ cried Madge, as with an affectionate demonstrativeness not frequent with her, she stroked his rough hand lovingly, ‘it is not that; but he has no right to assume that he has but to ask and have.’ Her eyes were flashing ominously, which augured 111 for Colonel Masslngham’s salt, as her unole pressed her for an answer; her cheeks fluihed angrily as she rose; evidently she was greatly put out, •Well, Madge?’

‘Tell Colonel Massingham,’ she cried with the dignity of an offended queen, ‘that Margaret Darrell is not to be wooed through another, and that it is unwise to take things too much for granted.’ The squire maintained a prudent silence, but raised his eyebrows comically at the tragic air she assumed as she strode majestically towards the door. Before she could reach it, however, it was opened by some one from without, and a tall, strongly built, soldierly looking mao, of about thirty-eight years of age, entered the room. Without being possessed of the exceptional beauty of his more youthful rival, Wilfred Massinghom could fairly claim to rank as a handsome man. All who looked on • his pnre-bred ifnglish face felt that they saw before them one who was, in every sense of the word, a gentleman. The well-defined chin and firmlooking mouth. Its sternness softened by the most fascinating of smiles, bespoke a many strength, and decision of character that was not belied by the noble brow or by earnest eyes of a soft tender gray. Margaret’s cheeks paled as she met his gaze. She made a movement to pass him ; but he put out hlo band to detain her. Squire Darrell, failing to make tho colonel comprehend his winks and nods, discreetly withdrew, leaving him to bear alone tho full brunt of the yonng lady's displeasure. ‘ Will yon allow me to pass, Colonel Massingham?’ she asked, impatiently tapping the ground with her foot. •Certainly, If you wish it,' he replied, moving from before the door. But her mood had changed ; she made no movement to avail herself of the accorded permission, and the look of Boom partly faded from her face. It la bard to fathom the depths of tho female mind, especially where It is swayed by love. Perhaps her undisciplined spirit was prompting her to _ revenge her offended dignity by the humiliation of him who had caused it. Or another cause may have had its effect on her conduct, Colonel Masslngham’s manliness had hitherto prevented him from becoming blindly submissive to her wayward whims and caprices. She had long resented this, and her resentment was increased by half-acknowledged intuition that in a tussle for mastery between them the oolonel would come off viotor. Now the ball was at her feet, and she would show how well she could roll it, how little she cared for it. [To be continued .)