LITERATURE.

Patea Mail, Volume I, Issue 8, 17 November 1887, Page 4

LITERATURE.

UNDER THE SHADOW. CHAPTER Hl —Continued. Well, Felice, she said, dropping into a chair, still at work? Why don’t you go out this lovely day ? The woman shrugged her shoulders.^ 1 am happy enough indoors, Rignorina. she said, in the musical Tuscan tone. 1 am never so happy as when i am at wonlor the Bignorina. Are you tired ? sin raked suddenly, fixing her eyes on Iris’.iacn. Iris started, and laughed softly. Not in the least. I was only thinking, Felice, she said. I’ll take oft my habit now, please, and she stood up. Felice, with skilful hands, that seemed scarcely to touch her, so deftly they worked, slipped off the habit. As she did so the I ouch the rent with her finger. The Signoriaa has torn her habit. Yes, said Irir, looking at the slit in the skirt pensively. Been jumping again ? said Felice, in an accent almost of reproach. Iris laughed. , No, I have not, Felice, Diun t 1 promise my -father and you that I woultln t jump when I was alone, and do you think I don’t keep my promises? How did you do it, then ? asked the woman, lingering the rent wiih the tips o; her lingers, and glancing from it to the beautiful girl, who stood looking out of the window abstractedly. It was not caught in a gate ? No ! There is no mud fciigi orina Las not fallen. Boh ! How did it come ? You would never guess if you tried for a mouth, Felice, said Iris, a soft smile creeping over her lips, and as I don’t mean to tell you, you need not ask any more questions. The woman did not express the slightest sign of impatience either by word or look, but calmly laid the habit aside, an! went on with her mistress’s toilet as if the incident had not occurred. In a noiseless fashion, that was not without its peculiar grace, she brushed the long (huk hair, ami bound it up in a coil, and wrapped her mistress in a long tea-gown of rose silk and lace. Iris sat back in her chair, her eyes do.Tncast, a pensive look in' her face, softened by a half stnilo. Who was going over every word that had passed between her and the young fellow of the bull fight ; recalling, almost unconsciously, his every look ami mtitude. How she had deceived him about Miss Knighton— about herself. Would he make enquiries and find out Ids mistake ? she wondered, and, if so, what would bo his opinion of her? Suddenly she looted up, and saw Iho dark eyes of Felice fixed upon her in tho glass. They wore lowered instantly ;but tho look drew Iris’s thoughts from tho young man to herself. Felice, sue said. Mis Iris, said Felice, addressing her in tho English fashion, as sho always did when sho remembered to do so, How long have you been with ua?—a long while isn’t it ? Tho woman’s lace suddenly grew ns immobile as one of tbo statues in her own Homo. A long while?—yes. Ever aiuco I was a baby ? said Iris thoughtfully. Ever aiuco the Signorina was a baby, assented Felice, as calmly as a statue might have spoken. I was born iu Italy, wasn’t I ? Of a certainty, yts. Do you remember—my mother? said Iris, her voice growing low and end. There was un instant’s "pausj—it was scarcely hesitation—before tho woman replied. No, Miss Iris ; iho Signora died before 1 came as Miss iris’s nurse.

iris drew a long sigh. How I wish I could remember her ! she Baitl, more to herself than to the woman. It is so strange, so sad, not to have known her, even ever so little I Felice, you saw her? You know her? it ok, replied the woman. I saw the Signor* once, Winu was sho like?—loll me? said Iris quickly, eagerly. fciho was beautiful as-- —lf the Signorina will look m the glass, she wifi see how beautiful I said Felice. Iris sighed ; the compliment had not raised a blush,for sho was used to Felice’s outspoken admiration. And that is all you know of hot ? she said. 1 ask you Felice, because my father —-sho pause i—my father has never told me, ami 1 do nut like to ask him. or tu speak of her to him. It is wise, said Felice, quietly, but promptly. Mr Knighton does not like to recall what ho has lost! It would only wound him tu speak of tho dead Signora, Tho Bignoriuu is quito right nut to speak iu r nurns to him. And I am half Italian ? said Iris musingly. How strange 1 And 1 feel so thoroughly English I Am I not quite English, Felice ? Can Italian women ride and drive, and swim and row, as 1 can ? Am 1 not quito different in every way to them ? i’eh m>. Miss iris is quito different—almost 1 Camo the answer. Iris laughed softly’. You have spoilt it, Felice, sho said. Your love of truth is greater than your desire to please me. Quite different—almost! That means I urn mure Italian than I think. Tho 3'gncrina baa the boouty of tho south ; she ban the Italian eyes, tho Italian voice, but she has the English heart, mud the woman quietly' ; and she is the daughter of a grout English gentleman. fTte paused for a moment, to sco if Iris should speck again, (hen slowly glided fiom tho room. Iris sat beside tho window for some lime, then got up, and went to the easel. For a few minutes she worked at tho crayon sketch, then dropping the charcoal, with a little grimace, seated horsclf at the piano and began to sing. But just as tho young man’s face had como bettveen her and the sketch, so his face seemed to mingle with the air the was sinking, and with a gesture of impatience, and a flush of annoyance on her face, she rose and shut the piano.

CHAPTER IV. The day worn on, tho candles were, alight in the drawing room, and Godfrey Knighton eat with a hook in his hand wailing for the dinner-hell. Iris usually came down half r.n hour helote it rang, and tho squire looked at the door now and again, for tc~uight she was Jaie. hut preecinly she came in, and his fate cleared somewhat as 1113 eyes rested upon her with a glow of pride and admiration in them. Ko wonder that Lord Montacuto wanted to marry her! JNo wonder that half tho men in the country were at her feet I Thtn ho sighed, and, laying down Ida book, logarded her with the old sad, half stern wprtssioa.

You haven’t told mo about your ride ibis morning, Iris, he said. She was standing, fattening a bracelet which had escaped Felice’s keen eyes, and her lashes quivered a little. Did you go far. No ; I was going to the Holt, but I did not get so far as that, she said ; and once again resolved to te!! him all ; she opened her lips, but at that moment there was iho sound carriage of wheels on the drive, and the rquiro, whose ea:s were quick, looked up, What can that bo ? lie paid. I don’t know. Are you expecting anyone ? she asked.

No, he icp’icd, still listening. Perhaps it is one of the tradesmen’s caits, she said, v.lh a smile ; if so 1 don’t i nvy them the sco’ciing they will get Horn liorrocks, tho gardener, g As she spoke tho door opened, and a footman entered. He looked rather confused and reluctant, and said rather hesitatingly’ - A gentleman, sir—— Permit mo announce myself ! said a voice behind him, and there came into the room, almost slipped in, so to speak, a tad. liiin man, wrapped in a voluminous cloak, At sight of him Godfrey Knighton ros ■■ to his feet, took a step forward, then, staggering slightly, let his hand fail upon tiie" edge of the table, and clasping it lightly, stood regarding the visitor with a while, set fe.ee. Iris was 100 engaged in looking at tiie man to notice the effect his appearance had upon her father, and the man stood regarding idem wish a sm.le upon his face which, taken with tho face itself, produced a i-Irange and unpleasant impression upon Ins. It was by no means an ugly face, either. It was riaalt, almost swarthy, with eyes black and iuftrous, too lustrous, indeed ; a dark moustache, with pointed and waxed ends, hid his lips ; but ihe smile revealed almost too conspicuously, a set of white teeth that, in contrast wiih the blackness of the moustache and eyes, seemed to gleam. As lie stood for that half minute of suspense, Iris noticed unconsciously that tmungioved band whs as white as a sheet of paper, and long and shapely' ; the next moment lie dropped the hat which it held, ami came across the room with the hand extended ,

Ab, Knighton ! ho csoiaimsd in a low and not unmusical voice, ana with an accent which iris knew at once to be Italian. It. is a surprise, is it not ? You did not expect me ! You are overjoyed —like me—at cur meeting! My friend! Godfrey Knighton took the outstretched haul, and the visitor inaiunliy laid his oilier on the top of in’s host a. It is a surprise, he said, and it was evi dent that though ho had recovered from tho emotion which tlie sudden appearance of the man had produced, ho was not overjoyed to sec him. No, I did not expect you. I said so! remarked the gentleman, addressing the furniture. 1 said those dogs of the post office would mislay' my letter ! 1 said, Baptiste, your goon friend Knighton will not have received your note, — lie will not expect you ! But what matters ? —tho more unexpected pleasure the greater the joy ! Is that not so ? and ho flashed bis black eyes upon Iris. As hu spoke, Godfrey Knighton mado a movomout almost as if ho would slop in between them, but he recovered himself in an instant. (To bo Continued.)