LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2506, 19 April 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

MR FITZGERALD'S MARRIAGE. Concluded,. Perhaps it was the whispered 'My darling !’ which he uttered, in a very low tone as she stood beside him, which so surprised her that she forgot to be conventional. What right had ho to call her ‘darUno,’ with Amelia sitting at homo waiting for them, and in spite of the far-off pained look in the sweet Birdie’s eyes, which should have thrust the word back unspoken into his heart ? It did not bring a glad look into her face, as ‘darling’ uttered by Lucius Fitzgerald six months ago would have done. All the sunshine and joy had died out of Birdie Yerulam’a life since then. Sho turned away from him and spoke to her maid about the luggage, as though seeking refuge in a triviality. Why had she come to Abbotacraithie ? Even Amelia, had she been at the station that day, could not have failed to note that Birdie Verulam had been to Lucius in the past what every law of honor forbade that she conld ever be still in the future. Like Lucius, Birdie was accomplishing her destiny ; like Lucius, she had a firm belief In her own strength. How utterly weak they both were perhaps they discovered with startling reality as they stood side by side on the Abbotasrai'h’o platform. Lady C mstantia was Birdie’s stepmother and the girl was dependent on her for food, shelter, and clothing—utterly dependent; and her father’s chattering, good-natured, shallow-pated widow was calculating, though kindly, and had, moreover, but a limited Income.

To marry Lucias, Birdie knew was utterly Impossible —knew it from the moment the first love flatter agitated her heart. So she resigned him—gave him with her own free will to Amelia. Sho had a morbid longing to witness the success of her work, end hod accompanied her mother to Ahbotsoraithe. deluding herself into the idea that she would henceforth endure the void in her life with less bitter pangs if she were but allowed 10 see Lnoiua rich, happy and contented. So when Lady Conetantla told her that she had received an invitition from Mrs Fitzgerald, and in her blindness and her love of living at other people’s expense suggested that they should accept it. Birdie had offered no opposition. Fha got into the carriage and seated herself by Lady Constantia’a side, the maid opposite Lucius p-eceded them in his cart. He had chosen wisely in leaving Birdie to her reflections for a while; furthermore, he went up the back way into tho stable-yard to avoid being present when Birdie and Mrs Fitzgerald should meet.

He could easily make an excuse for not being at hla post to fulfil the ceremony of introduction. Perhaps, even in the abstract he was right, although hla action, or rather inaction, in the matter was due on this occasion solely to his inclination. Where people are bound nolens voltns to make themselves acquainted the formality of an introduction is very likely better omitted. . At all events, in this instance the affair passed off comfortably enough, and the Impression on all sides was favorable. But this fact by no means tended to mend matters as far as danger was concerned, and Miss Yerulam was too wise and too honest to decslve herself into a contrary belief.

When a woman allows herself to love a married man, she may tell her conscience that every fault from the wife palliates her guilt; but she must be morally blind indeed if ihe imagines that all the qualities of a'l the angels centred in the wronged one would ever have weighed with her in the indulgence of her unlawful passion. There was something artless—an evident desire to like and bo liked—about, the woman in possession, which went straight to the Birdie’s heart and disarmed her—disarmed her of any ill-feeling against Lucius’s wife - that is to say —no more.

‘ This is the first time I have ever met any really great friends of my husband,’ said Amelia, pouring out the tea, ‘ and yen don’t know how I have been looking forward to your coming.’ Lady Constantia declared herself delighted to bo there, but the journey—--lOn that railway carriage ! I thought I should have died of heat apoplexy ; and that horrid old-yonng man—ridiculous creature, be must have been fifty at least—would Insist upon having the windows up all the time, and Bardie would not snub him. Why would you not, Birdie ? Oh, he was good looking—very, but not my style; in fact quits one of the * have beens,’ She was something of a rattle was her ladyship, and not over particular about being listened to. This the Birdie had long since ascertained. At that moment she was dreamily contemplating Amelia, * How a man might love that sweet little woman if she had only got the first chance of him! ’ was the mental ejaculation. Dinner that night was a not altogether successful attempt at being festive. Percy had arrived jast before, and decidedly second-rate as were his jokes and geceral behaviour, morathanoneof those present felt gratefnl to him for keeping up the conversation, hla brother-in-law, perhaps, the most of all

Next day two or three men, invited by Lucias for shooting, put in an appearance, and the master cf Abbotsoraithie. In doing the honors to his mala friends, avoided on all possible -coashns being brought into anything like close companionship with the ladies. Only he would look at Birdie some times with such a longing, wistful look in his large flaming eyes that it made the girl more than once creep away up to her room and seed the excuse of a headache instead of re appearing at dinner.

Meanwhile Amelia saw nothing except that Percy’s attentions were received by Miss Yornl&m with cold disdain, and that Lucius looked sadly weary and jaded, which she entirely ascribed to his having overwalked himself shooting on the moors. Thus a week passed, and Birdie suggested to Lady Constantia that it was time they took their leave and went to the house of some other Mauds ; but L»dy Constantsa was comfortable and contented in luxurious Abbotacraithle, and she would not be hustled. Birdie must endure her torture a little longer. She had gone out alone one lovely September afternoon, taking a volume of Shelly to dream over, not to read. In Birdie’s frame of mind all the lines wore one blurred mass, all the words were indistinct. She eat down in a little arbor that had been built at the edgo of a wood, hanging over an extensive view of heathery moor, and there, till tho dressing bell rang, she felt aha could veep and think in peace—at least, so she hoped; bat a quarter of an hour hid scarcely passed away when she heard a man’s footsteps approaching the arbor, and she almost sprang up with a little frightened ory. Not Lucius—no, not Lucius ; there alone, she could not bear it.

It was Percy, and she sank into her seat as though relieved from a groat fear. Not that she wanted Percy’s companionship—far from it; and had he been a man of the world and a gentleman, her monosyllable replies would speedily have induced him to pursue bis way to the house. But Percy, like his sister, was not easily daunted ; be could not understand the word ‘no ’ unless it was written in very plain letters before him, and he actually had the audacity, though he had never received at any time the most remote encouragement, to make Miss Verulam a formal tender of his hand and possessions, looking quite surprised, too, when she got up and told him that ‘she regretted he bad made so great a mistake, such an alliance being impossible.

1 Impossible !’ he repeated, 1 impossible that you can ever care for mo ?’ And Percy, whose belief in himself was immense, looked at her in absolute astonishm p nt.

Under happier auspices Birdie would have laughed j as it was, she turned from him with a sort of disgust, merely saying very quietly—--1 Please leave me; I would rather be alone.’

A hot flush rose into Percy’s face as she spoke. This son of the people imagined that Birdie, being the daughter of a great house, was flouting him, and he resolved to be revenged. Poor Birdie ! Of tho social chasm that lay between them she never thought; only of how utterly incapable a man like Percy was to supplant Lucius in htr aching heart. Bitterly angry with himself for evoking it, and with Birdie for offering what he was pleased to oil an im.nlt, he left the arbor without another word, walking rapidly along the path toward the honse. When he was about half-way some sound attracted his attention, and he looked round. Lucius 1

strolling back, gnn in hand and alone, had reached the arbor and stopped; another second and he passed inside and out cf view.

< So —so, my lady 1 Please save mo ; I would rather be alone! ’ Of course you would. But ycu will not carry on your little games at Abbotsoraithie if I oan prevent it.’

In less than five minutes Amelia, forewarned by Percy, was creeping along through the brushwood to the back of the arbor, in order to learn it possible herself unheard, something of what was going on between her husband and Birdie Verulam. • I would never have come if I had known; but oh Lucius, I thought I could have borne it. Why did you let her invite ns ? ’ ‘My darling I did my utmost to prevent it; but she was very positive, and I—wel', you bade me marry her, and I —well, you see I did not. think you would care very much.’

•Oh Lucius, I should have mada no sacrifice for you if I had not really cared, but I thought I was braver. If only Lady Constantla would be persuaded to take me home—’

• My poor, poor sweet love, Birdie ! * was all the man could murmur. There was no consolation to offer now.

‘you must kiss mo, J. ucins—well, only this once, my love. Now go. I cannot bear it if yon stay longer—l cannot indeed. Besides, it is not right to yourself or her.’ He took her in his arms for a moment, left on her lips one more forbidden burning kiss, and was gone—not to ward the house, but down the hill on to the moors, where, with nature reigning in wild beauty all around him, he could fight nnohidden with his raging love. In the arbor, for a long space, the soft, buzzing, lazy summer sounds wore disturbed by Birdie’s sobs; while outside, with nothing between them but the thin, barkcovered, wooden partition, tat Amelia on the ground among the underwood, her head on Her knees, which wero surrounded by her clasped hands. Hhe had heard It all, and was thinking it over bit by bit. What should she do ? ihe future, which but an hour ago had seemed so bright to her as she believed in Lucius Fitzgerald’s love, had suddenly become dimmed by a mist which looked eternal. She conld not see through it ; it was thick as that which gathered about the summit of her own north country hills. Still she must try and find her way through it; and as she sat there motionless, listening to the sobs within, and thinkingiimore earnestly than she had ever thought in her life before, a depth of feeling was awakened in Amelia’s heart for which no one who knew her only In the light comndy of life would have given her credit, She was the first t o move—very carefully, lest Birdie should hear—and to go slowly to the bonne. She met Percy at the door. ‘ Well whac was up In the arbor ?’ ‘Nolhing. I believe you purposely seat me on a wild goose chase. Lucius has gone down toward farm.’

What an invaluable article is stupidity in the proper place! Two hours later tho husbend and wife met at dinner. Birdie had one of her usual bad headaches. No one conld have guessed that Amelia had learned tho truth ; only perhaps Lucius noticed that she was even more tender and womanly in her manner than she bad ever been before.

For many days Birdie lay 111 upstairs In a darkened room. Amelia never intruded herself unhidden into the sick girl’s presence ; but all that love could think of and attention carry out she gave to Birdie, and with no demonstrative outbursts. Nor did she ever tell Lucius that she knew aught of the past, but helped him quietly with seething tenderness to bear the anxiety and irritability produced by Birdie’s ilnesa. Amelia had seen her way through the mists and the road along which she had elected to travel was that of patient sympathy. As months passed on, and time cicatrized tho wound in Lucius’s heart that destiny had made, was not much of its healing due to the woman who loved him wall enough to bear silently and nnmurmnriogly her share of ths burden with which he was so heavily weighted.

Birdie has never married She wont abroad with Lady Constantla for awhile ; on her return she studiously avoided all meetlugs with Lucius, and pointedly refused to pay another visit to Abbotscraithie ; but she Is always on friendly, almost loving terms with Amelia, who scarcely over undertakes any scheme of importance without first consulting Birdie,

Use of the Birch—A writer on schooldiscipline says, “ Without a liberal use of the rod, it is impossible to make boys smart.’ Lassoing a Dog. One of the dogcatching squad of the police force yesterday invited our reporter to make a little jaunt with him and write up a little article on the dexterity of Detroit policemen in roping-in stray canines ; and after the officer had provided himself with his outfit, the pair headed for tho corner of Beaubien and Oroghsn streets, where a big stray dog had escaped one of tho squad two hours before. The corner was not only there, but likewise the canine. In size be was a fair match for a yearling oalf, and in disposition all he asked was to bo let alone. He was lying’alongjide the fence in the shade, and the officer ia;d it would be n:> trouble at all to secure him. There are various ways of catching an unlicensed dog, and way No. 1 was first tried. He was coaxed with a piece of beefsteak, but probably reasoning that it was out from the neck instead of the round, ho repelled tho officer with a growl that sent tho reporter to the top of a six-foot fence. ‘ The next way is to walk right up to him and give him the c /liar,’ observed tho < ffioer, and in this he was encouraged by the reporter. Tho dog hadhis head on his paws and his eyes on a lino with the officer's ankles. When the blueooat was within six feet, the victim arose and sent forth such a growl as would have split a lion from chin to tail, and tho officer retreated with the remark, ‘ Hand mo down that ’ere lasoo. Let me get tho noose over his head, and I’ll choko that growl out of him pretly sudden.’ The noose was handed down, and after some trouble it was launched. No good, except to agitato tho dog. A second throw was attended with like results, but at the third the noose settled over the dog’s bead, and the (ffioer had him. He also had the officer. One could have beard a pin drop as the two eyed each other. The next move was to take the captive to the pound, end the oflicer finally braced up and began to haul iu on his fish. The fish wao only too willing to come. At the first pull he made a home run, and for the next sixty seconds no one could tell dog from officer. Baiks, yells, ourees, growls, and whoops were all mixed up, and when the typhoon passed and the duot settled tho dog was seen trotting down the street with the rope trailing behind, and the officer opened his eyes and feebly called out, ‘lf there h anything left of me won't you put it in your pocket and carry it to my bereaved widow ?’ —‘ Detroit Free Press.’