LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2473, 10 March 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

TWO REMARK ABLE DR 0! AMS.

Founded on Fact, (Continued.) On arriving at X Station, ESia was somewhat surprised to find that no vehicle awaited her from the priory ; however, as she was able to procure a fly without any difficulty, the omission was of little conso quenoe. It so happened she had never visited the Holts before, great friends though they wore. They had met abroad, and at the houses of common friends, but something had always come in the way of a visit to tk e Priory, and Kflie could scarcely believe she was really on her way thither. As the fly drove up to the door of the old house, she saw Mrs Holt in the garden, and putting out her head nodded and smiled gaily. Up ran her hostess, exclaiming—- ‘ Effie, mv dear child, what a delightful surprise ! Why didn’t you let ua know you were coming ? ’ ‘ Surely you reoeived my telegram yesterday 1 ’ *Ho ; did yon send one ? Oh that dreadful boy at the post office! He really must bo got rid of. This is the third telegram he has lost in a month—careless, good-for-nothing young rascal! O'ever mind about that now, however. How delightful to think you really are here at last.’ * Bat is it convenient; are you sure you can put me up ? ’ asked Effie. l Oh I forgot! every room is full, ’ cried her friend, stopping short in dismay as she was hurrying into her honee ; ‘ but I can manage ; yon won’t mind. Oh yes. I know; that will do nicely. There’s Fred ;he will be surprised ! Do you know who this is ? ’ she called out to her husband, who was coming downstairs.

‘Effie Perceval 1 Can I believe my eyes ? ’ * Yea ; and she telegraphed yesterday to say she was coming, and that horrible boy must have lost the message, Fred yon must have him sent away,’ While Effie was lunching Colonol Holt ran over the names c,f those who were staying in the honee, and of those of the neighbors who were coming to dinner. ‘ I hope yon have brought a smart dress, young lady, and all your diamonds, for there is to be a perfect invasion of natives ’ ‘ Oh, I think I shall do,’ laughed Effie, * though I was not prepared for such a festivity.’ ‘They don’t happen often, thank goodness. Why, now I think of it, you left us in the lurch on the last grand occasion. I his very day last year, by Jove I so it was.’

• Yes ; oh, we won’t talk of that,’ said Fffie, shudderlog and turning pale. She was relieved by the entry of Mrs Holt, who offered to take her to her room.

* I have done the best I c»n, dear; ordered my den to be turned into a bedroom for you. 'i here w&s literally no o’.her room available. There is only one drawback, it is at the end of a long passage, has no look to the door, and is not very near any other room.’ ‘lt will do beautifully, I am sure,’cried Kffie, vexed at the trouble she was giving, and feeling she could not in reason make any objections, though the idea of an isolated room did not strike her pleasantly. ‘That is my husband’s dressing-room,’ said Mrs Holt, as they pissed an open door ; now tarn to the right, and at the end of this passage is your room. I chose it for my den on account of its inaccessibility.* When reached it looked such a cheerful, bright little room with the afternoon sun streaming into it, that Zffia was charmed. •If I feel lonely I can keep Susan with me,’ she thought. 'Now I shall have yon to the rest,’said Mrs Holt. l lf yon conld get a little nap before dinner yon would be all the better for it.’

‘ I must write to mamma and Lannoo, that will be better than sleeping, and will refresh me quite as much. What time do you dine ?' ‘7.30.’

* Very well; good-bye till then.’ • I really believe Simmons is wrong in his head,’ said Colonel Holt to his wife as he came into her room half an hour before dinner. ‘ What has he done now, then ? *

‘The fellow’s manner is so odd I can’t understand him. As soon as you had taken Effie up to her room I teat for him to say an extra place must be laid at the ainner-table, and stated the reison. He didn’t make any answer, and looking up I saw he was white as death and shaking all over; then be began a stammering request to be allowed to go away, he was not well, and so on. However, I cut him short, ond told him if he wanted to go he must wait till to-morrow, and that then, if go he would, it must be for good ; but that, of course, he must stop and do his work tonight. With that I left him, and just now 1 saw him at work in the dining-room, oo I suppose he has recovered his senses.’ 1 How very strange his conduct is,’ said Mrs Holt; ‘it is exactly a year ago to-day smeo his last vagary/ Contrary to her w mt, Mrs Holt felt somewhat of an anxious hostess as she greeted her guests that evening, but sho was reassured by Simmons’s manner, which was as composed as usual. Effie, obeying her natural instincts, was late, and reaching the drawing room after dinner had been announced, fell to the lot of a shy red-haired youth, who took her in in solemn silence, apparently abashed by the radiance of her diamonds.

It was a pleasant, sociable dinner enough, and all went well to Mrs Holt’s secret relief. She gave a sigh of satisfaction on reaching the drawing room, feeling now that all danger was over. Never had Effie been brighter or merrier. As sonn as the men came up Mrs Holt persuaded her to sing. She had a lovely voice, but was usually too shy and nervous to perform before strangers. However, to-night she seemed a different creature, and not a little to her own surprise felt every inclination to comply with the request. Everyone was enchanted, and she was besieged for another song. 1 You must have some coffee first,’ said Colonel Holt, beckoning to Simmons to bring it. ‘ 1 am better without coffee,’ said Effie, looking up to decline it, when her eyes suddenly met those of Simmonds, who was holding the tray in front of her. A violent fit of shivering took possession of her, as with fixed eyes sho watched him leave the room; then with a piercing saream she started up, and catching hold of Colonel Holt’s arm, cried—

* Save me, save me I ’ and fell back fainting into bis arms.

‘She must have air and quiet" raid Colonel Holt; and begging his wife would summon Susan, he carried the girl out of the room into his study, where in time she recovered.

‘ Oh, that face, the awfnl face of my dream 1 1 she moaned, pressing her hands to her head.

‘My dear child, what has distressed you ? Tell me what has made you ill,’ ashed Colonel Holt.

His wife had by this time returned to the drawing-room, leaving her husband and Susan with Effie.

‘Those dreadful eyes, that face,’was all that she cculd say for some time. ‘ Do you know what she means ?’ Colonel Holt asked Susan, who shook her head. ‘Perhaps she will tell me If we are alone,’ thought Colonel, and he made a sign to Susan to leave the room. * Now, dear, try and tell me what has frightened you ; and who it is has such dreadful eyes ; or would you rather tell Agnes 2 If so, I will fetch her.’

‘No, no,’ said Effie, clinging to him ; ‘I will tell yon ; It will be bettar ; bntit makes me shudder so to speak of it.' Colonel Holt soothed her as best he conld, and at length she managed to tell him of her dream of a year ago. ‘And oh!’ she cried, ‘that man who brought tbe coffee to me had the same face ae tho man in my dream, and when I looked up his dreadfal eyes were looking at mo in the same murderous way as in my dream.’ ‘That man? Do yeu mean Simmons, my butler 2’ asked Colonel Holt, laughing, trying to reassure her ; ‘ fancy turning old Simmons into a villain of romance 1 Why, he has been with me for j ears, and is as steady as old Time. You are tired and overexcited this evening. Effie, and yonr imagination has run away with you. That is all, believe me, (To he continued .)

THE HOME. Boast Pheasant. —Pick, draw, Bingo, and truss, placing a couple of shallots and one ounce of butter inside the bird. Lard the breast very finely, tie a thin slice of bacon over the larding, and roast the bird at a moderate fire, basting it frequently with butter. A few minutes before the bird is done remove the slice of bacon so as to lot the larding take color. Serve with plain gravy, fried breadcrumbs, and bread sauce. Time, about thirty minutes. Lives Sauce. —Take the livers of any kind of poultry, rabbits, or hares ; scald them and mince them finely. Melt a piece of butter in a saucepan, add a little flour to it and a small quantity of minced 'shallots. Let the whole fry far a minute or two, then add gravy stock in sufficient quantity to make a sauce, a small pinch of powdered sweet herbs and pepper, spices and salt to taste. Put in the minced livers and a glass of port wine. Lot the sauce boil for twenty minutes, and at the time of serving add a small piece of fresh butter and the juice of half a lemon.