LITERATURE.

Patea Mail, Volume IX, Issue 1068, 3 August 1883, Page 4

LITERATURE.

LEStEY’S CONSPIRACY. j

Mr John Clifford, looked over the walnut and plate-glass railing around. }iis * office ’ ,in the corner off the count iqgroom of : tiro ‘drily and''weekly Herald, just as a. sweet ringing. laugh, from ijhe opposite came to his . s .ears.,. . ... , . ........ .. _. •, v . , ((J.A Lord~that is,’ Peter Furman Vai'd, as ‘ he ‘ saw the look I of inquiry on MFlClifford’s face. ‘ As girl ! ' : p? ;i 'eveivMcpped in shoes, ;‘bn|.^qpbiled, dnd 1 liiiraoured until she V thmks'hhe l cih do as slfe .llkos.’ %■ . j ' ’ ’Mr. through the', open / ( dbbr—-He ! was',t|ie now bookkeeper, just ■’ ' entering Upon.his duties' that.morning. So that is Miss Lord-—the young ‘ with the rbund white arms and shining teeth, and the hair piled iq a gold-colqnred mass on top,of her head ? ; 'I Well, ‘ Furman, ‘ she ; is rather goqdlopking—certainly not as handsome‘as one would be led' to think from yqnr :: description.’ ; • 1 1 Several hours later, when Mr Clifford ■ 'was (thinking it 1 was neatly time - : supper, y 'a ‘merry little clatter of boqt- ; hbels sounded on the ’floor, coming towards his office, and he looked up to see 'Miss 5 ’‘Lesley Lord, standing at the ■ dome-shaped.opening in front.of.him.; ; '.r ‘{Mr Clifford,’*‘she said, with a grace- ' ful little ! arch of the eyebrows—* at ‘ - least, T Suppose ’ it is Mr, Clifford, the : new 1 bookkeeper T ' ‘ • ! ri;!! 4 1 alh Wypur ! service,’ he responded, ; s 'dimpled dheeks and little white, tbeth. j ‘ I would like to ‘ have an advance on ' "'Saturday'night ? S‘pay, if you please.’ ■ The 1 ‘ if ; you please ’ Was very much 1 at' variance with the’ imperiousness bf her demand. 1 { i • ‘ You- would like an advance?’, he reiterated gravely, ’ feomeWhat surprised. t ■ L'eslie’gave a pfbvbked ‘little toss of • her’ headland* tapped %’er f ;fingerß on the ■ plate glass Shelf. . ‘ "‘That 3 is'vfbiit I said, I believe.’ . * Am I to understand it is the custom J of this'office-to advance money to the ’employes upon all occasions ?’ <: I don’t; know anything 'about what the employes do'; I know 1 always receive ’aff‘advance when I ask it.’ Mr Clifford closed his day book quietly; ' ‘ I think the-rules of the office forbid 1: Such a i precedent, Miss Lord. Frank,’ cAto ? they.office boy busily directing the A justf light' up; will yon ?’ - * : Leslie stood perfectly astonished s at the polite yet cavalier treatment she had ’ . I rjeqeived. The-fidea !. 1 The ■ new' man putting on such airs to her—the acknowledged' Belle and 1 bfeaiity of the girls who set typo in the 'HerUld composing room. ; » !.Frank lighted the gas, and Mr Glif- • ford began counting the money in the cash box, while* Leslie, in a passion, - stood staring at him. ‘ You don’t intend to let me have it ?’!she said, presently, in a low, indig- . j nant voice that was irresistibly charming for all that. ‘■Certainly not—you nor any one.’ \ ’ ’ Arid Lesley sent him one look, per-, .fectly -savage with anger. ; .* An hoar-later* in the midst of a driving: rain storm, Mr Clifford stepped out of the tram car in a pretty, lonely suburb, of the ci%, ; to ! Which be* was an entire stranger—and after .looking about him for several minutes, sans umbrella or overshoes, be began dimly to realise that he did not know which of the half-dozen houses bight was ;the one where his new landlady, Mrs Bawson, lived. ‘;A charming position to find oneself in,’ he thought, as the rain soaked through his clothes, and he discovered that the mud was,disagreeably uncertain to wade through, especially in the darkness, . ; * I’ll make a bee line for the nearest .jlight,’:;heidecided, and forthwith set out for a'little cottage, not so appallingly i< far off; where he arrived in due time, and shivering with the cold dampness of his 1 clothes, ffie’ Was cheered by the prompt opening of the doqr by a placid faced, (elderly lady^‘who’ answered him in the cheeriest most iUncqnventional fashion. * *‘Mrs Dawson’s ? Why, you won’t think, of going ■ away up there in such a storm as this. Come in and see if I . can’t make-you comfortable for a while. Fve got a boy just about your age somewhere in ‘ the West—and if he should be out in the storm-r—’ , 3 : ! Her 1- ffibther - love was sweet and , strqng 'on her gentle, womanly face, and ho stepped in, gladly, yet reluctantly. . I am so ;muddy and; dripping—l am John Clifford, bookkeeper at the Herald ma’am/iand'a stranger in the city.’ ! f His hostess insisted on his going in, and in .less no .time he/was feeling decidedly comfortable, beside the open fire, in , borrowed slippers and rapidlydrying clothes. j * The new book-keeper of the Herald office,- I think you said? My niece works there —and she’s been talking about the. ‘ hew man’ for a week or so—• I believe all the girls were anxious to see you, Mr Clifford.’ t . “'The kindly lady bustled about to get ith&/Supper ready -in the. little kitchen; and at the latest stage of the proceed-; ing , she took.,the ; lamp out with her, ■‘While 1 she broiled the ham. -i ‘on won’t mind sitting in the firelight a minute or two, I know. We’re poor folks, and have to economise in .PILL r. : And a second: after the lamp had gone, and the savory odour of .the broil- . ing Mm’ floated into Ms hungry sense, a side door opened, and somebody came in, bringing a cool rainy feeling with her—for it was a girl, in waterproof and rubbers. 3 * I came so near staying at Jenny Ball’s for supper, auntie—l would have stayed only.l was afraid you’d be worried about ihb.* *’We did have so much .talk‘about, ’ and a saucy little laugh rippled through the dusk as she plumped herself down on the floor to take off her rubbers. ‘ The new book-keeper came, auntie—just-"the handsomest fellow, With oh—-heavenly eyes and a lovely moustache, but lie is too mean and hateful for anything—to me, auntie, (

you wonld’nt believe "'it,' would you? Well, we girls ’ll punish him I Wefve juade' a conspiracy between us, - and I’m to make him full in love with mo—-1 can, I know—and then I am to reject him haughtily, and let—Auntie, hsfve you been in the cellar all this time j|vo been talking ?’ . | And as Mrs Cummings appeared |at -■the head i of' ibe cellar stairs (Lesley Lqrd picked up tile lamp'and carried it back, into the little dining room, while Mr .Clifford arose from bis easy : chair as the lamplight and Lesley’s amazed looks fell upon him simultaneously. He laughed as he extended his hand, while Lesley, bewildered beyond measure, stood stock in the middle of the room, lamp in hand, her cheeks flushing painfully. i ; ‘ Pray forgive mo. I certainly did not mean to be so hateful, I assure you, Miss Lord. Won’t you allow me-to relieve you of the lamp ? and then|— please begin at once the part of the programme you are to fill in the conspiracy. against me, ‘ I can promise you it will be the most agreeable to me.’ I ‘ I—didn’t—know you were here,’ Lesley stammered and then she did the best ’possible thing under the circumstances—laughed heartily. ■ ‘T dare say I shall never hear the last of it,’she said. ‘ Well, Mr Clifford, I can stand-it if you can.’ .‘ If yon will let me I will stay the remainder of the evening and try,’ he returned gravely. Well, he stayed, and Lesley was bewitching, and after he had gone home she went to bed and cried herself to sleep for very shame at her stupid idiotic blunder. ‘ He will despise me, I know he will,’ she sobbed to herself, ‘ and he is just splendid.’ But instead of despising : heiy Mr Clifford asked her to marry him six months afterward. LI will say ‘ Yes,’ just because I like to be contrary,’ she laughed. ‘ I said I’d reject you haughtily, and instead I’ll accept you— ’ .Shei hesitated with a little glance at his handsome face. ‘ Because I will not take ‘No’ for an answer?’ he suggested, drawing her face to his breast. i ‘ Because 1 do love you,’ was her reply, low and sweet. And that was the delightful end of Lesley’s little conspiracy.