TWO FAIR DECEIVERS.

Samoa Times and South Sea Gazette, Volume 2, Issue 53, 5 October 1878, Page 4

TWO FAIR DECEIVERS.

What do young men ialk about when they sit at the open windows smoking on simmer evenings? Do you suppose it) is of love? Indeen, I suspect it is of money; or, if not of money, then at least o; something else that either makes money or spends it. Cleve Sullivan has been spending his four years in Europe, and he has just been tolling his friend John Seleden how he spent it, John has spent his in Now York—he is inclined to think just as profitably. Both stories concluded in the same way. " I have not a thousand pounds left' John.” “Nor I, Cleve.”

“ I thought your cousin died two years ago j surely you have not spent all the old gentleman's money already ?” “ I only got twenty thousand: I owed half of it." “ Only twenty thousand! What did ho do with it ?’’ “ Gave it to his wife. He married a beauty about a year after lie went away, died in a few months afterward, and left ner his whole fortune. I had no claim on him. He educated me, gave mo a profession, and twenty thousand pounds. This was very well; he was only my mother’s cousin." “ And the widow—whore is she ?” “ Living at his country-seat. I have never seen her, She was one of the St Maura, of Maryland.” “ Good family, and all beauties. Why don’t you marry the widow ?” “ Why. I never thought of such a thing.” “You can't think of anything bettor. Write to her a little noteat once ; say that you and I will be in her neighbourhood, and that gratitude to your cousin, and all that kind of of thing —thou beg leave to call and pay rcsjiects, etc., etc. John demurred a good deal to tho pla i but Cleve was mastoiful, aud the note was written, Clcvo himself putting it in the post-otlice. That was Monday night. On Wednesday morning the widow Clare found it with a dozen others upon tho breakfast table. She was a dainty, high-bred littio lady, with E >’es that drowse with dreamy' splendor, Cheeks with rose-leaf timings tender, Lips like fragant posy, and with a kind, hospitable temper, well inclined to be happy in the happiness of others. T) ..A At * t-AA-_ 13 A t- - 1

But this letter could not bo answered with the usual polite formula. She was quite aware that .lohu Selden had regarded himself for many years as his consin’s heir, and that her marriage with the late Thomas C'lare had seriously altered his prospects. Women easily sec through the best-laid plans of men and this plan was transparent enough to the shrewed littlewidow. John would scarcely have liked the half-contemptuous shrug a id smile which terminated her private t noughts on the matter. “ Clementine, if you could spare a moment from your fashion paper, 1 want to consult you, dear, about a visitor Clementine raised her blue eyes, dropped hor paper, and said, “ What is it, Fan ?’’ “ It is John Selden. If Mr. Clare had not married me he would have inherited the Clare estate. I think he is coming now in order to see if it is worth while asking for, encumbered by his cousin’s widow." “ What selfishness ! Write and fell him that you are just leaving £ >r the Suez Canal, or the Sandwich Islands, or any other inconvenient 1 o at.” “ No ; I have a better plan than that— Clementine, do stop reading a few minutes. I will take that pretty cottage at Ryehank for the summer, and Mr. Selden and his friend shall visit us there. No one knows us in the place and I will take none of the servants with me.” •’ Well ?” Then Clementine, you are to be the widow Clare, and I your poor friend and companion.” “ Good I very good ! “ The Fair Deceivers’—an excellent comedy. How I s mil snub you Fan! And for once I shall have the pleasure of outdressing you. But has not Mr. Selden seen you'" “ No I was married in Maryland, and went immediately to Europe. I came Itack a widow two years ago, but Mr. Selden has never remembered mo until now. I wonder who this friend is that he proposes to bring with him ?’” 11 Oh, men always think in pairs, Fan. They never decide ou anything until their particular friend approves. I dare , say they wrote the letter together. What is the gentleman’s name ?" The widow opened the note. “ My , friend, Mr. CleveSullivan.’ Do you know < him, Clementine ?” I No; I »ru quite sure that I never < saw Mr. Clove Sullivan. I don’t fall in lore with the name—do you f But pray ] accept the offer for both gentlemen, Fau, f and writs this morning, dear.” Then t Clementine returned to consideration of 1 the laco in coquillos for hor new evening dross. r The plan so hastily sketched was sub- f sequonlly thoroughly discussed and t

carried out. The cottage at Ryebank j was taken, and one evening a', the end of i June the ladies took pisseeiou of it. i The new widow Clare had engaged a maid in new York, and skll into In r part with charming ease and a very pr tty aasuni tion of authority ; an t tae real widow, i her plain dress and pensive, quiet mannerrealized effectually the idea of a cul vated but dependent companion. The' had two days in which to rehearse tins parts and get all the household machine in order, and then the gentlemen urnv at Ryebank. Fan and Clementine were ready for lii first, call; the latter in a rich and exqui site morning costume, the former in .. simple dress of spotted lawn. Clemeutiiu went through the introductions with con •Humiliate ease of manned and in hah an hour they ware a very pleasant parti, John’s cousin-ship ” afforded an excellent basis for informal companionship, and Clementine gave it full prominence Indeed, in a few days John began to find the relationship tiresome; it had been “ Cousin John, do this,” and one nigh, when Clove and ho sat down to smoke their final cigar, ho was irritable enough to give his objections the form ol speech. “ Clove, to toll you the honest truth 1 do not like Mrs. Clare.” “ I think she is a very lovely woman John.” “ I .say nothing against her boauty. Cleve ; 1 don’t like her, and I have no mind to occupy the place that beautiful, ill-used Miss Murat fills. The way Cousin Clare ignores or snubs a woman to whom she is every way inferior makes me angry enough I assure you.” “ Don’t fall in love with the wrong woman John.” ) “ Your advice is to late, Cleve ; I am in , love. There is no use in us deceiving ourselves or each other. You seem to like 1 the widow—why not marry her ? I am quite willing you should.” “ Tuank you, John ; I have already i made some advances that way. ■ They have been favourably received, I think.” “ Your are so handsome, a fellow has t no chance against you. But we shall t hardly quarrel it you do not interfere i between lovely little Clementine and my■eif.” ■ “ I could not afford to smile on her, John, she is too p ior. And what on earth are you going to do with a 1 poor wife ? Nothing added to no- ' thing will not make a decent liviug.”

“ I am going to ask her to be ray wife, and if she Joes me the honor to say ‘ Yes,’ I will make a •! oecnt livi ngout of my profession." From this time forth John devoted himself with some ostentation to his supposed cousin’s companion. Ho was determined to let the widow perceive that he had made his choice, and that he could not be bought with her money. Mr. Solden and Miss Marat were always together, and the widow did not interfere between her companion and her cousin. Perhaps she was rather glad of the close friendship, for the handsome Oleve made a more delightful attendant. Thus the party fell unite naturally into couples, and that two weeks that the gentlemen had first fixed as the limit of their stay, longhteuod into two mouths. It was noticeable that as the ladies became more confidential with their lovers, they had less to say to each other ; and it began at last to be quite evident to tire real widow that the play must end for the present, or the denouncement won Id come permaturely. One night Clementine, witli a radiant face, came into her friend’s room, aud said “ Fan, I have something to tell you. Clevo has asked mo to many him." “_Now, Clement, you have told him all I know yon have.’’ “ Not a word Fan. lie still believes me as the widow Clare.” “ Did you accept him P” ‘'Conditionally. I am to give him a final answer when we go to tho city in October. You are going to New York this winter, are you not ?’ “ Yes our little play progresses finely. John Selden asked mo to be his wife tonight." “ I told you men think and act in pairs. “ John is a noble fellow. I pretended to think his cousin had ill-used him, and he defended him, until I was ashamed of mysolf; absolutely said, Clement, that you were a sufficient excuse for Mr. Clare’s will. Then he blamed bis own past idleness so much, and promised if I would only try and endure tho ‘stings and arrows’ of your outrageous temper Clement, for two years longer, he would have made a home for me in which I could be happy. Yes, Clement, I should marry John Holden, if we had not u pound note between us.” “I wish Clove had boon a little more explicit about his money affairs. However there is time enough yet. When they leave to-morrow, what shall we, do ?" “ Wo will remain hero another month ; Levine will have tho houses ready for mo by that time. I have written to him about refurnishing the parlors.” So next day tho lovers parted, with many promises of constant letters and future happy days together. The in- 1 :orval was long and dull enough, but it 1 1

passed and one morning both gentlemen received notes of invitation to a mull • I dinnei party ot tha Widow Glare's m n- i ion . —street Them was a jod I ! of dressing for this party. 0W« I ■ 1 10 make his entrance into liis funonia as became the prospeouve , » er ol a million and a half of money, i . John was deairous of not suffering < 1i meat's eyes by any oompariaion n the othor gentlemen who would pro- j i>ly be there. Scarcely had they entered the drawing ..imi wln'ii the ladies appe.mil, the true A'idow Clare no longer in tho unassamng toilet she bad hitherto worn, but nagnificent in white crepe lisle and sain, her arms and throat and pretty bead jostling with sapphires and diamonds. Her companion bad assumed now the .!.■ of simplicity, and Cleve was disappointed with tho first glance a', her plain white Chambery gauze dress. John had seen nothing but the bright Face of the girl he loved and the loveight in her eyes. Before she could ■peak be bad "taken both her hands uid whispered " Dearest and best and loveliest Clement." Her smile answered hint first. Then -be wiid " Pardon me, Mr. Selden, but we have been in inasqurade all summer, and now we must unmask before real life begins. My name is not Clementine Marat, but Fanny Clare. Cousin John I hope you are not disappointed. Then she , put her hand into Johns and they wandered off into the conservatory to finish their explanation. Mr. Cleve Sullivan found himself at that moment in the most trying circumstance of his life. The real Clementine Marat stood looking down at the flower on the carpet, and evidently expecting him to resume the tender attitude be had been accustoned to bear toward her. He was a man of quick decisions where his own interests were concerned, and it did not take him a half minute to review his position and determine what to do. This plain blonde girl he could marry ; she had deceived him, too—he bad a sudden and severe spasm of morality; his confidence was broken ; he thought it was very poor sport to play with a i man's most sacred feelings ; he had been deeply disappointed and grieved etc., etc. Clementine stood perfectly still, with her eyes fixed on the carpet and her cheeks gradually Hashing, as Cleve made his awkward accusations, i "Have you done, sir?" at length she asked lifting a pair of eyes scintillating • with scorn and anger. "I promised you my final answer to your suit, when we met in New York. You have ' spared me the trouble. Good evening, sir." Clementine showed to no one her disI appointment, and sho probably soon re- , covered from it. Her life was full of other pleasant plans and hopes, and she , could well afford to let a selfish lover " pass out of it. She remained with her friend until alter the marriage between j her and John Selden had been eonsum- , mated; and thou Cleve saw her name among the list of passengers sailing on [ one particular day for Europe. As John I and bis brido left on the ante steamer, , Cleve supposed of course, she hail gone in i their company. 1 " Nice thing it would have been for , Cleve Sullivan to marry John Seldon's wife's maid, or some other! John always was a lucky fellow. Some fellows are always unlucky in love atfairs—l always ' am." . Half a year afterward he retreated this r statement with a great deal of unneces--1 sarv emphasis. He was just buttoning . his glo.es preparatory to starting for his r afternon's drive, when an old acquainti mice hailed him. "Oh, it's that fool Belmnr," he muttered; I thought he was in Paris.—Hello, Belmar, when did you arrive ? Have a ; ride V " No, thank you. I hove promised my wife to ride with her this afternoon P" i "Your wifo! When were you mar- ; ried ?" " Last month, in Paris." " Why, I thought you knew ; every • one is talking of my good fortune. Mrs. Belmar iB old Paul Marat's only child." " What ?" I " Miss Clementine Marat She brings me nearly 1,000,000 pounds in money and real ejtate, oiid a heart beyond all , price." Cleve gathered up his reins, and nod- ■ ding to Mr. Belmar, drove at a finable rate up the avenue. For once Mr. Clove Sullivan told Mr. Cleve Sullivan that ho had been badly punished, and that he well deserved it.