CHAPTER I.

Te Aroha News, Volume II, Issue 83, 3 January 1885, Page 5

CHAPTER I.

" Just a look the Btrife began, Jealousy the flame did fan, True love's course ne'er smoothly ran. So they say. Percy Fustcheb is a young barrister. His "learned brethren " call him an " infernally lucky fellow," because, unlike so many of them, he is not briefless. But they forget that it is in a great measure due to his own abilities and hard work that his present position has been so quickly won. As regards appearance, he is tall and fairly goodlooking ; that is to say, his profile is a handsome one, but his full face is spoilt by his eyes, which are too small. His hair is light and curly, he shaves his moustache, and o«ly wears a pair of bushy whiskers. Not one man in a nundred would acknowledge him to be a " jolly-looking fellow," and yet it is a face that takes with ladies. Ask any of them what it is they admire, and hear what they will say : "He has auch a glorious profile, and then his eyes—" " Why, his eyes are the very worst part about him." "Well, perhaps they are not what you call good, but there is something — I don't know exactly what— about them that I like, and then they look so nice when he screws them up," and this is all you will be able to learn. There was one young lady, who, above all others, admired him, and who, some three months before the time we make his acquaintance, had given her promise to be the future Mrs Fletcher. Her name was Mabel Linton, only child of old Linton, late of Mark Lane, now of Derby Villa, Harrow, whose pride and pretensions were unbounded. He worshipped "Debrett" and the "Peerage," and his great ambition was to marry Mabel to a title. It can, therefore, be understood what a blow her engagement to Percy was. The intimacy, courtship, and proposal had all taken place while Mabel was on a visit to her rich, childless aunt, in Bayswafcer, and old Linton knew nothing about it until it was a /at* accompli. The "rich, childless aunt" had a good deal to do with wringing a reluctant consent from Linton were, for next to a title he loved money. Thus matters stood, when two days before the April morning on which we make Percy's acquaintance, Mabel's aunt had given a. dance. Mabel and her father were to stay in the house for it, and Percy, of course, received an invitation. In due course he appeared in the ball room, and was somewhat astonished to find his young lady whirling round the room in the arms of a stranger, more especially as he had told her he would come early, and asked her to keep the waltzes for him. As soon as the dance was over, he went up to her and asked to see her card. " Why, Mabel, what's the meaning of this ?" he inquired, as he saw the initials G. I. against four of the best waltzes. "I thought you had promised them to me?" "So I had ; it's all right— don't be angry, dear — take No. 9 ; it's only the Lancers, but we shall have time to talk." "Well, that will do to begin with, and then " But Mabel was borne away on her partner's arm before he had time to finish. Percy's pride was hurt, and, in no very amiable frame of mind, he walked round the room until he discovered a cousin of his, whom he had not met for gome years. He sat iown beside her, and then the thought struck him that he could pay Mabel out in her own coin, and he put his name down on his cousin's card for a good many dances. When No. 9 arrived, and he and Mabel had taken their places in the set, matters did not mend much, for, though Mabel appeared repentant and Borry, Percy was cold and haughty, and would not give her much chance of an explanation. " You seem to have found a very agreeable acquaintance, I should say friend, this evening, Mabel. I don't think I have seen him before, have I ? Ah, I see he's coming next to you in this set, so you will be able to continue your conversation. Don't mind me ; you know we can talk any time." " Oh, Percy, please don't say that, it isn't like you. Something has vexed you, I know. It is only a friend of papa's, Lord Gerald Ivor ; he brought him with us this evening, and insisted on my dancing with him whenever he asked me. I thought you wouldn't mind, Percy, when you knew it was papa 'B doing, not mine." "Mind? Not a hit of it. Why should I ? You of course are at liberty to dance with any one, just the same as I am." "Percy, you are unjust and cruel. 1 have saved all the other waltzes for you." "I'm sorry to hear it, for I shan't be able to have them with you, as I am engaged for them all to that lady in blue you saw me dancing with just now." Mabel only said, "Very well, dear; as you like, but I am so sorry." Percy pretended not to hear, and directed his conversation to the lady on his left during the remainder of the set. On its conclusion he left Mabel in the conservatory on the plea of having to look for his j next partner. As he walked away he congratulated himself that he had been firm as a rock, and had taught Mabel a lesson that he was not to be treated in that manner, and yet all the time feeling very uncomfortable, and wishing he had made it up with her. For the remainder of the evening he danced with his cousin, until people began to notice the fact. He did not see Mabel again till she was leaving the room on Lord Ivor's arm, with her lather on the other side. She gave him one pleading, loving look just as she was going through the doorway, which he pretended not to see. He did not stay long after her departure, and as he drove home to the Temple, he began to have doubts whether he hadn't made a great fool of himself, and whether he hadn't behaved badly toward her after all. The following morning he half made up his mind to run down ' to Harrow and make peace with her, but then the devil within him whispered that it would be showing a great want of firmness in so doing, and that it was her place, as the wrongdoer, to plead for forgiveness, and his, as the injured party, to grant it. And co he allowed the day to go by, hating himself and all the world, thoroughly wretched and ill at ease. He expected she would write, admitting her fault. But no letter came. And now, when we see him the second morning after the dance, he has been again disappointed. When he came from his bedroom he found three or four letters beside.his plate, but none from Mabel. He is in a fix and does not know what to do. " It's her place to write, not mine," he tells himself, "and yet I'll be hanged if I go through such another day as yesterday for all the pride in the world ; perhaps I was wrong after all, and it was her father's doing. Poor little darling, I was wrong, and it's no good saying I wasn't. I behaved like a brute; she didn'jb care for that fellow, I'll bet my life on it. I'll go down to Harrow to-day. By Jove ! won't it be grand making it up again, amantium inn cmort8 t &c. Those old Latin dogs knew what spooning meant. But I wont stand any more of the old man's humbug, or he'll be making some real mischief. I'll run home as soon as I got a chance, talk it over with the gorernor, and see if we. cannot ar- j

range matters, so that I can bo married this * Long '—Hullo, I hope that's not a summons for chambers," as there was a knock heard at his door. " Well, Rogers, what is it ?" to his clerk, who entered. " A parcel and a note, sir." " Put the parcel on the table, and give me the note 5 thank you, that will do." •'From Mabel, at last," he exclaimed, as he reads the direction in the hand that he knows so well. "I knew she'd write, and it was just as well I didn't go down yesterday, after all." •'What's this?" as he opens the sheet, and reads as follows : " Sir : After your conduct toward me at Mrs Laneham's dance, it is evident I have been mistaken in your affection for mo ; your studied rudeness was remarked by many, and, after what has occurred, it is clear that you wish our engagement to cease. Indeed, there is no other course left open, and the bearer of this will deliver a parcel containing the presents you have given me at various times. I may mention that my father quite approves of the course lam taking, and has seen this letter. Of course, we shall not expect to see you again at Harrow. I remain, yours, &c, Mabel Linton."

"Good Heavens ! she can't mean it," i8 all he says as he finishes reading, and then sits gazing into the fire, lost in thought for a long time without uttering a sound. Half an hour has passed before he rises with a deep sigh. "Well, that's all over, I suppose, and she's no better than the rest of them. A real live lord is more attractive than a struggling commoner, and a coronet will send true love to the right about any day. But I did'nt expect this of Mabel ; I did think she was true grit. Where are these precious presents I was tool enough to waste my money on ? What shall Ido with them? Sell them? No, I don't think, after all, I could do that ; they were hers once. No, I can't sell them. Confound it ! I'm getting childish over them ; there, go up on that shelf," putting them in an unoccupied division of his bookcase ; " you'll serve as a memento of where my love's beon put, if I should ever want one ; and now for those pleadings."