FICTION IN BRIEF.

Temuka Leader, Issue 2462, 9 February 1893, Page 1

FICTION IN BRIEF.

IViEG THREDGOLD, BI FLORENCE WARDEN.

'Vumor of " The House on the Marsh, 1 ' " The Fog Princes,” Ac, Ms: i All Rights Reserved.] If I had not been an artist I dare say .■ iio i not have fallen so quickly and so Hopelessly in love with Meg Thredgbld. As it was I fell a victim to her grey-blue eyes and blonde hair, long before I had had any cha; of discovering what a thoroughly ood, tair-minded girl she was, and what a articularly practical and prosaic view oi ,fi s .e took out of those poetical eyes. Meg was the child of the overseer, of i oai mine, a shrewd, hard-headed man who .ad worked his way up, and who stood very ligh in the estimation of his employer:, iome disturbances in the coal district hav-

• g brought the subject of the mines prcninently before the public mind, I had been ;ent North by the editor of an illustrated paper to take sketches of the affected disricts on the spot. ZechThredgold had beer, very good to me, «nd had not only initiated ne into all the mysteries of the Blucstone Fit, where his own work lay, but had illowed me to visit his home, and so to become acquainted with the girl whom I dared not con less I wanted to make my wife. She knew it, of course. But Meg was a uodel of discretion, and received my timid hints and half-avowals with a bland ana imperturbable calmness which was rather •disconcerting, the more so as l ! enior partner of the firm which owned ; Hirst, me Pit was a constant visito. ..t the overseer's unpretending little home.

" Do you like that old Sebert Corringham, • I g?” I asked her one day, when I had lx i nore than usually irritated the evening heloivbyt he ogling glances which the senior partner had cast at my di—inity. There was, unhappily, nothing indicative >f a tender friendship’'-'tween us in,, the act of my calling her by her Christian la me. She had beer jmv Meg Thredgold ;o all her acquaintai from her earliest ears, and my first p'-'--mnts to address her nore formally had —eri sm-Voed as pre--nmptuons. She b-d washing the amily table-linen, • nd was fastening it up nilh pegs on a clothes-line -t a little disnnce iron the grimy-looldng red brick muse, which was her ridiculously unsuitihle home. The whole neighbourhood was mssiUabie for her. 1 glanced around on the weary landscape; the barren, black-looking ioor with scarcely a tree ; with here and here, on a spot blacker than the rest, ? h-el high above the ground denoting the i a t of a coal-pit; the rows and groups of

hntrv miners' cotta-e" ; and at the uncouth.n.king cieaturec v ho nodded to Meg in pas- • mg.as iishehad been one or themselves. By what miracle had Meg obtained, among such surrounding: , the complexion of a rose and the carriage of a queer ? Ju the meantime she was giving a leisurely answer to my question.

"bo I like Mr. Corringham? Why, of course I do. He's very good to father, ana flunks a lot of him. Look at the way he’ll come in and have supper o*- a cup of tea with him. That’s a great condescension in a gentleman oi Mr. Corringham's position." " Condescension ! Why, that’s all on the ‘'ther side, [ think. What pleasure could ins society give anyone? You know very well why ha comes, Meg?” I was by this time enveloped in a tablecloth which, in a wild endeavour to makn> imself useiul, I had been endeavouring to asten up with a peg on the clothes-line, ’.b-g stood watching my struggles with sedate amusement. I was annoyed with urr for being vain enough to be pleased with my insinuations.

’’Don't you know,” I went on irritabl) "that he’s a hard bad man, and that he married a girl rears ago who ran away from him ? Perhaps she is alive now ,It wouldn’t be a very sale thing for another woman to marry him.” 1 finished spitefully. Meg took the tablecloth from me, and answered with her usual deliberation.

“Mr, Corringham would find plenty of women to take their chance of that, I oNpect. He's /6,000 a year, you know. And to be hard isn’t the same as to be bad, Mr. Bell. A.nd as for the girl he married running away, why it isn’t always the husband's fault when that happens.” And you don’t mind a little risk for the sr’ 3 of £6.0c0 a year ? I see, Miss Thredgold.” ” I haven’t had _ it offered me yet, Mt. Bell,” said Meg drily. “ Fortunes don’t get thrown about quite so freely as people seem to think. Who am I that I should have the spending of £6,000 a year ?” “You’re more worthyof it than any other girl I know,” I had to admit. ■« You would’nt fill a great position any the less well for being able to wash up tea-things." " 1 hat’s what Mr Corringham says,” “ Oh, Mr. Corringham be hanged !" Unluckily, as I oPered this wish in ro subdued tone, the person it concerned happened to be on his way to Zech Thred-. gold’s house, and so near as tp overfiear mj words. Meg caught sight of him first, and to my passionate indignation greeted him with a smile at Igast as cordiafas that she had bestowed on me. I gave him a curt salute, which he returned more curtly still. Sebert Corringham was a thickset mar. under the middle height, with a face which in repose looked as if it had been carved out of wood, but which was capable of plenty r< strong expression when his passions were roused, He treated me to a stare of infin ite contempt as I raised my hat to Meg. and with the excuse that I must be off to rpy, work turned hastily away. Wh®h J reached the lane at the bottom pf the hill, however, I found tliat Isr, Corringham had, by a short put, got there first. ' ' He stood waiting for me, with his han,ds in his pockets, his feet planted wiele apart, and a look of stubborn on hit face. I would bay?. passed without a word, but this I sft\y he was determined not to lei me " Hey there, Mr. a word wr ye, if you please!” he cried imperiously, on my approach. I stopped short, and waited for the threatened ' word' which came without delay. " You’re sneakin' after that lass, Meg Thredgold, up yonder,” he said with a jerk pf his head in the direction of Zech’s home. " I’m not sneaking after her, I’m going to see her openly day after day, whenever I get the chance, because ivyant her to be my wife,” I answered defiantly. " And I don’t see how you yourself could have a better object for your visits.” •' Maybe I haven’t one so good,” returned Mr. Corringham with an unpleasant dryness of tone ; 11 but that’s neither here nor there. I take an interest in the girl; I’m her father’s, employer, and I dont approve of young men of your sort philandering about her, 1 ' " I dont see what your approval has to do with the matter!” I said haughtily. " Don’t you ?” said Corringham, with a hard chuckle. " Call on Zech to-night and you’ll see. On the other hand, if you’re wise you'll be content to take my word for it, and save the young lady some awkwardness. " "Perhaps the awkwardness will turn out to be for ) ou.” said I, incensed at the man’s course presumption. "You make six thousand a year; I don't make six hundred ;

but 1 haven’t the ill-treatment of a young wife on my conscience, nor the possibility of her turning up again at an inconvenient moment to haunt me."

This taunt, which I delivered with all the force and point of which I was capable, caused my rival to turn livid with rage." " You cockney whelp !” he said, in a low thick voice, with his teeth set fast. His first impulse seemed to be to attack my person ; although much taller than he, I should have stood a poor chance against his muscular force. But he restrained himself, and fixed upon me a look of triumphant malice which made me far more uneasy than a blow would have done. Then with another dry chuckle he walked off, his hands again in his pockets, with an air of safe superiority.

My forebodings were realised. That evening when i called at Zech's house—as I generallj' did—to have a cup of tea with him, the door was opened by Mrs Thredgold, who told me very shortly that her husband was out. I could bear him in the room overhead ; but worse than that Meg—who was laying the tea-table and looking perfectly unconcerned—did not even glance in my direction. I would have lingered, asked some question; for I was meek-spirited enough when Meg was concerned. But the door was shut in my face. CHAPTER 11. I was much more miserable than angry at this snub, for I loved Meg so deeply as to be able to grieve more over her scant prospect of happiness as the wife of the rough brute Corringham than over my own disappointment. My work in Lancashire was practically over ; indeed, I should have been back in town two or three days before this but for the magnate in the red-brick house on the hill. Now, therefore, I went straight back to the cottage-lodging I had been occupying so as to oeneartne pits, paid my bill, and marched off with my portmanteau into Calney, the nearest town. A long, straggling place it was this Calney, built on a steep ridge of hill, and extending in an intermittent fashion quite a mile and a half from the station. I made straight for the principal inn, where the land-lady, a crusty, dictatorial old lady, who had taken me into her special favour, took me into her parlour, and soon wormed out of me the reason of my black looks and of my sudden departure. A beautiful colley dog, which had been standing at the inn door, followed me and stood by me, wagging his tail, while 1 made my confession.

" Ah,” said the land-lady of the 'Swan,' as she handed me a box of cigars. They were very bad cigars, and very dear ; but for some reason it was considered a special privilege to be offered one, and I dared not refuse. *' You’re not in the mood to take it kindly, but let me tell you there’s many worse men about than Sebert Corringham, for all he's a bit rough in his way. And as for that lass he married, she was a regular hussy, and it was her flirtin' ways got her into trouble with him. And then to go and leave him as she did, with her child unborn, and him dying to have a chick of his own, it was enough to turn a saint hard, let alone such a man as Corringham.” “ But that’s no reason why hoahould make up to another girl when he's not sure he’s a free man. And use his position as employers to turn anotherman out of thefield.” " Eh, but we’re none of us quite fair when were in love; you no more than the rest. The lass knows he’s had a wife, and if she likes to take the risk, why even if the first should turn up, Corringham would do the right thing by her and not let her starve, 1 ' But this suggestion was intolerable to me. I sprang up from my seat. The collie, whose head 1 had been caressing, leaped up about me, asU sympathising with my indignation.

" And don't yon think." I burst out, trying to keep my passion within the bounds of decorum, “ that it would be better for her to marry a man with whom she would run no such risk ? And a young man ? One who would be a companion to her ? And " And a deal better-looking, and less rough, and a gentleman, eh ? Well, that’s for the lass herself to say. But, after all, sir, she’s no lady, and maybe she thinks she’d not fall in with your London ways. She’s no fool, isn’t Meg Thredgold.” "That's just it. She would accustom herself to a new mode of life without any difficulty, being so intelligent. And she would soon feel more at home in a London drawingroom than in the miserable brick-field where her home is." "

“Well, if she married Corringham, she’d have plenty of money—more than you could give her, 1 reckon. No offence to you. "But she’d never learn how to spend it. Now, I could educate her, and without her knowing it!"

" Ha, ha!” This interruption, in the shape of a dry, hard laugh came from outside the bar. Startled and angry, I looked up to see Sebert Corringham’s wooden face, wearing an expression of mocking amusement. I could not tell how much he had heard, but his head was bent forward in an attitude of listening attention. v Educate her, eh ?” he repeated to himself, in a voice like a file, “ why, thou wantst educating thyself, thou young cup. a-falling foul of thy betters !” In his auger, which peeped through histone of contemptuous amusement, Sebert Corringham fell into a rougher kind of speech than I had before heard him use. I turned my back upon him without a word, and wasleaw ing Mrs, Long's parlour, when he raised his voice to utter a final taunt. " Thou hast lost fcbance of a dinner or ateanowand then at my house, lad. Thou’ll not be on my wife’s visiting-list, and sol tell lhee. u So this coarse brute was Meg’s choice! For I could not doubt, both from his easy tone of assurance, and from the reception I had had from Mi’s. Thredgold. that he was boasting on a sure foundation. In an agony of mortification and resentment, I wasabout to rush out of the inn when I was suddenly restrained by the knowledge that Corringham was waiting at the bar, and that I should have to pass him. 1 paused, and stooped to pat the collie which, having apparently taken a great fancy to me, had followed me •into the hall. At that moment the door of the smoking room opened, and a red-faced man who was sitting inside, with a long clay pipe in his mouth, called to the dog " Fuff, Ruff, coom ’ere!” But the collie shrank behind me as the door closed. I turned to the chambermaid, who was crossing the hall. "Do you know who this dog belongs to ?” 1 asked, “ Oh, yes. ’’ she answered at once. "1 o the Duckets, acheap-jack and his wife, that s staying here. Mrs. Long let them pitch in the field at back, and they’ve got a van out there and a tent. A nice pair o’ skinflints they arc, and cruel too. they made thier own dog so shy he won t go ne.u to strangers, but hangs about the van all ciay “''lie will go to strangers, though. He’s been lawuing upon me and following me.” The girl looked at the dog, who at that moment wasiicking my hand " Well,” said she in surprise, ” I never saw him carry on like that iieiore, nevei ; 1 The door of the smoking room opened again, anil again the red-faced man called to rny dog-1 ncml. 1 went into the room, the collie following close at my h^Hs. he continued,}