LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2533, 22 May 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

THE DROPPED TELEGRAM. ( Continued .) ‘ I think, ’ said Charley, ‘ that your cousin ought not to be associated much with Mrs Lb Ferrier. She is not likely to be benefited by the acquaintance.’ • I will give her a hint,’ I replied. On our entering tne arawing-rcom, we found our cousin, Mrs Le Ferrier, and young Finch—as the Oxford man was named—grouped round the piano. Charley at once left the room and walked out on the beach.

I remarked that my cousin and Mrs Le Ferrier bad at uck up a violent friendship, as is the habit with gushing young ladies. They sang duets together, sat talking in subdued tones, and eventually left the room —to retire, as I afterwards found, to the solitude and privacy of MrsLe Farrier’s bedroom.

It was on the following morning that I first had an opportunity of speaking to Annie slot e, and I then said :

* Annie, it might be prudent if you did not strike up such a violent friendship with Mrs Le Ferrier I don't think she is a desirable acquaintance for you. * Annie gave a toss of her head, aa is the custom with young ladies who are firmly convinced of their wisdom stud knowledge of the world, and replied : * She is the nicest woman I ever met, and we are already the greatest friends. I am not going to give up a friend because of other people’s spite.’ * Spite!’ I replied ; ‘ what can you mean P I have no spite against Mrs Le Ferrier, and can have no object in cautioning you except for yonr own good.’ ‘Thank yon,’ she replied; ‘I can judge for my seif.’ ‘ I should like you to see more of Charley, who is my oldest friend,’ I said ; ‘ you don’t know what a good fellow ho is.’ * Thank yon,’ replied Annie ; ‘ I know enough about him already. ’ I was about to make some reply, but the caution which my legal training had imparted to me caused me to reflect. How could Annie have heard anything about Charley which could cause her to wish to know no more about him, except from her new friend Mrs Le Ferrier ? Was my phrenological diagnosis accurate P and was this woman not only deficient in conscientiousness, but possessed of cunning and malice aa well? Did she fall into the error of imagining she oonld defend herself by accusing Charley of some crime? Such proceedings are not unusual In this wicked world.

1 You ought not,’ I said to my cousin, ‘ to believe what Mrs Le Perrier says about Charley.’ Innocent little Annie rose to my By, and replied : ‘ fche has told me enough to cause me to have no desire for your friend’s farther acquaintance.’ 1 smiled at the success of my diplomacy, but saw no means by which to checkmate such malicious canning. 1 made np my mind, however, to watch for a ohanoe, and take advantage of the first opportunity of setting matters straight. That Kra Le Ferrier had slandered Charley I felt quite certain, but to what extent I could only g less.

Three or four days passed, and all ny endeavors to bring Charley and Am,i« together were failures ; she evidently avoided him ; and whenever there wan a chance of their bslng alone, ehe ran off like a frightened hare. Mrs Le Ferrier in the meant’m became very intimate ui h young Finch, ■who escorted her everywhere, and seemed devoted to her ; whilst Charley’s recognition was confined to a at ff bow whenever he met her. My communications with the handsome flirt—for such she undoubtedly was—had been limited to the usual 1 good morning ’ and a few sontenesa relative to the weather, &o. She had more than once ‘made eyes ’ at me i and there was on one occasion, as I handed her from a carriage, a sort of tremulous squeeze from her hand. I now determined to play a part; and having been accustomed to amateur theatricals, I felt considerable interest In carrying out on the stage of life the same role which I had enacted on the stage of the theatre. More than once, Mrs Le Ferrier caught mo looking at me with admiring if not adoring eyes, and somehow I was perpetually meeting her in her walks, and was able to carry Htt'e parcels for her. I was gaining ground, and young Finch was losing it. Poor Charley seemed displeased with me, and hinted that I had fallen under the spell of the siren. In the meantime, my good little cousin was enj eying herself, totally, or at least apparently, unconscious that my old friend Charley seemed singularly attracted by her. Outwardly he was only distantly polite to her, for her manner to him was of the ‘stand-off’ character; and if he uttered any sentiment of a warmer natnra than usual, she gave a cynical smile, and at once commenced speaking on Indifferent subjects. • Your little cousin,’ said Charley to mo one evening, as we lounged on the sands ‘is a dear little girl; but she seems to have taken a dislike to me.’ ‘ fhe is young and inexperienced,’ I re-

plied. ‘True,’ said Charley; ‘but therefore should be more confiding than suspicions ; and yet she always seems to suspect mo of something.’ I now made up my mind to obtain from Annie some details as to what Mrs Le Ferrier had said about Charley. I knew the difficulty, but hoped to overcome It. The opportunity soon occurred. I found Annie sitting on the beach one morning after she had bathed ; so dropping down beside her I commenced discussing various old friends and their present condition, and gradually brought Charley to the front, and referred to his military career, and the good fortune he had won in gaing the Victoria Cross and a majority. I then said, ‘Toll me, Annie, what was it Mrs Le Ferrier accused him of ?’

‘ Ob, it’s of no consequence,’ said Annie, * and does not matter in the least.’

‘ Bnt it does matter,’ I replied, * when a lie is told abont my best friend.’ • I promised Mrs La Ferrier that I would not tell.’

‘ Yon did not promise you would not tell me,’ 1 cunningly replied, ‘ No ; not you in particular ; but she said, for his sake I was not to tell any one.’ * Then, as I am his true friend, not likely to be influenced by slander, you see “ his sake ” does not apply.’ • Well, if you must know,’ said Annie, ‘ she said he professed fierce love to her, and made advances whioh’she as a married woman was obliged to snub ; and so ehe gave him the cold shoulder, and told me he was not the s>rt of man for any lady to trust herself with.’

I felt almost too angry to speak, as I reflected on bo unprincipled a woman being gifted with such a face and figure. But I determined to leave no atone unturned to make this woman recant, though how to do so I could not imagine. 1 continued my attention to Mrs Le Ferrier, taking care that I gave her no opportunity of accusing me of making love. She was a woman to whom adoration seemed a necessity, and had I not been aware of her I should have believed that she was half in love with me, and ready to be wholly so. j Sandmomh was very full of people at this time, and the sands wore crowded every morning and the promenade every afternoon, bnt to me there were only three people in the place, or at least three who engrossed my attention—these were Mrs le Ferrier, my cousin Annie, and Charley. 1 bad before me a problem to solve, something like those three-move chess problems which appear in the weekly papers ; and I was considering what move to make, and how and when to make It.

Surely the intellect of a man ought to be a match for the cunning of a woman, I thought; but the difficulty was to get at the truth of the matter. A woman such as Mrs Le Ferrler worked secretly, and did not hentate at the moat audacious falsehood, whilst those who were not acquainted with the peculiarities of the feminine mind could not believe how the grossest Inconsistencies might appear in the character of one so gifted by natnre. I was in this state of perplexity when one afternoon, as I was strolling on the promenade, I met an old friend James Loter, a lawyer at Manchester, We had known each other in business as well as in private matters, and had confidences together which made ua trust one another. We walked together away from the crowd, which herded like a flock of sheep, and sat down on the cliffs to look at the sea.

After referring to certain matters of business in which we had been formerly connected, 1 said to Loter, ‘You know everybody in Manchester, I suppose j do yon know a Mrs Le Ferrler ?’

‘Of coarse I do,’ he replied ; ‘what about her?’

(To be continued )