LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IX, Issue 1347, 8 June 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

FROM JOY TO SORROW. [“ Danbury News.”] (Concluded.) ‘ Birds in the night that softly call, Winds in the night that strangely sigh, Come to me, help me, one and all, And murmur baby’s lullaby.’ By this time the curious and alarmed servants had collected, and crowd the room with pitying faces. Mrs Griffith endeavors to lead Cicely away ;'i but she holds back and will not go. ‘ Don’t go to ‘his room, any of you !’ she cries, warningly ; ‘ for he is fast asleep. I went into his room about midnight with a small bottle of chloroform and a sponge. I saturated the sponge, and held it to his face—l cannot tell for how many times. And now ho is fast asleep, my bonny boy. May angels watch over him!’ I hear a broken cry, look up, aud see that Mrs Griffith has fallen, I rush forward, lift her, and repeatedly kiss her unconscious face. ‘Ha ! ha?’ Cicely laughs ; ‘instead of marriage bells, we will have funeral bells ! Miss Derrick have I not kept my word ? You will never have him. Ha I ha !’

‘John,’ I say to the butler, so quietly I surprise even myself ; 1 1 want you to assist me in getting your mistress to her room, and then afterwards go to your master’s room, and ascertain if’he’s asleep.* He lifts Mrs Griffith, then sends one of the servants to Kenneth’s room ; and I follow him out of the room, the servants falling back for us to pass by.

‘ Yes, go from my sight;’ Cicely exclaims, ‘ I hate you 1 You have made me what I am now. Oh, yes, lam mad ,- I know it. But then ‘t makes me happy too. Don’t you think my hair is fine ?’ The servants close the door. When Mrs Griffith recovers, her eyes meet m'ne.

*ls it really true—is Cicely really crazy ?’ she asks, starting up in bed, and clutching my hands 1 can only nod my head. ‘ Oh, Viriau —daughter ! Where is my bay ?’ • He is asleop.’

One hpo, parching, pitiful look at my face, and she Mia back among the pillows with a great sob. ;f*:‘ Everything is true, then ? Oh, Virian !’ ‘ Ye-, everything idle said is true. The worhl for ua is now black and cold.’ A paroxysm of s bs and tears shake her frame My eyes are dry. I sit stunned and mo!ionless. My heart is broken. I put my arms around her neck presently, and try to sooth and comfort her by tender caresses. 4 You will never leave me, will you ? You will be my daughter, and we will live for one another. I cannot live without you now, dear child,’ I cannot speak, so lay my head beside her in mute acquiescence. For my life holds no joy, no light —all is dark and desolate j and yet for her dear sake I wish to live, even though my days be treaty, and but one perpetual supplication to God that we sometime icpay and happy. Chaptee YI. The next day I see my dear old relative off with an undefined feeling of horror, fear, and regret combined. On my return to Inglewild, I alight from the carriage and tell the coachman that I shall walk up to tho hou«e. I want to have a peep at tlm grounds and to indulge in a qu;et little spell of meditation all to. myself. Tor about a half hour I saunter in and out the different paths, and view the wooded splendour of my lover’s home, then came abruptly face to face with Cicely Edgeware. 1 start back in my surprise, Sl;e laughs at me. She is very white, and the plain black dress she has on trails behind her in sombre folds gnd renders her all the more ghastly. The afternoon sun shines through the trees, and lights up her fair hair until it looks like molten gold, ‘Do you suppose we meet by chance ? ’ slip demands, scornfully, waving her right hand towards me. ‘ How very simple you «-o then, to be sure ! No, I came out here purposely to meet you and to have a little talk with you—only a little talk, Miss Derrick.’ ‘ I must hasten hack,* I say as calmly as I know how, for I aip somewhat alarmed. ‘ M s Griffith wishes to see me at five o’clock, about something of importance,’

l lt is not five yet; you will not be so unkind as to refuse me a few moments’ conversation, I am sure ? ’ She- catches me by the arm and holds me fast. lam obliged to remain. ‘ Why do you wish so particularly to see me P ’ I ask. ‘ Can Ido anything for you ? Do yo want me to help you in any way ? ’ Her eyes glitter and her lips quiver at that.

‘ Miss Derrick, they tell me Kenneth Griffith loves you, that you love him, and that you two are engaged to be married. Is this really so ? Do you confirm it? Speak! ’ ‘ It is perfectly true.’

‘ Then I give you my curse ! ’ ‘ I love him—l have always loved him. I have always hoped to be his wife. He likes mo very much—perhaps he would have learned to love me in the end, and asked me to bo his wife. It is in your power to make me a blessed woman. Have you no mercy for me ? ’ ‘Miss Edgeware, you must bo insane to talk in this manner. You forget yourself. Be calm. What shall Ido for you ? I would like to be your friend, if you will permit me. I should like to help you.’ ‘ Oh, will you—will you help poor forsaken me P Oh, how good you are! Do you know what I want you to do for me—can you guess it ? *

‘No.’ ‘ I want you to leave Inglewild, and to give up Kenneth Griffith! ’

‘ I love him—therefore, believe me, you ask far more than I can ever grant. He loves me devotedly. Go where I would he would seek, find, and marry Yivian Derrick.’ She springs wildly from my side and runs down the path, crying over her shoulder—- ‘ You will never have him, so help me Heaven! ’

I stand there for quite a time stunned and overwhelmed with astonishment, and try to realise what has just happened. After awhile I slowly return to the house. I encounter Mrs Griffith on the staircase as I enter.

‘ Are you back at last ? ’ she playfully interrogates, patting me on the cheek. ‘ I dare say it was hard to part with your uncle, was it not via telle ? Never mind; he will visit us again in a couple of days. You are pale, and your hands, dear child, are very cold. What is the matter? If you have [any trouble, pray let me share it with you.’

* Indeed, I have none,’ I say, rousing myself. ‘ I felt very sorry to see Uncle Seth go, of course ; but now that I am with you I feel much better. Have you been all alone since I left ? ’

‘ Yes. Cicely was in a peculiar mood, so I loft her to herself about two hours ago. Ido not know what ails her. She is generally very animated; but now she seems to be depressed, out of tune.’ ‘ Is she a moody person ? ’ ‘By no means ; at least not to my knowledge. I have always found her agreeable and entertaining.’ A light, rustling sound reaches our ears. Wo look up and see Cicely standing at the head of the stairs, smiling, and dressed for the evening. She kisses her hand gayly and joins us. In the interval before dinner two letters arrive, one for Mrs Griffith and one for me —both from him we love above all others.

‘He will be here to-morrow,’ Mrs Griffith exclaims gladly. *He writes me that he cannot remain away from Vivian a moment longer. He says Inglewild is a second Paradise now to him, and that he longs to see the old place again. Is it not perfectly delightful, Cicely ? Just think of our thousand-and-onc plans to keep him here with us, and our utter failures ! And here is Vivian, who does not even have to say a single word—she can detain him at her side for ever, if she pleases.’ I look up from my letter at Cicely. She meets my glance and smiles in her pretty way. ‘ It is charming,’ she says lightly, and I imagine our friend is somewhat of a clairvoyant, do not you ? Certainly she has wonderful powers of attraction ! ’Tis a good thing to have her in the house, I say, for she brings Kenneth, and that is—happiness to us ! Does he come early or late ? ’ ‘He comes at noon,’ I answer, folding up my letter and putting it into my pocket. ‘ He says he will stay as long as I will permit him. The idea of my having anything to do with it! Seriously, lam glad he is coming, for it makes you glad to have him with you here, and I rejoice in your delight, dear Mrs Griffith.’

I go where she reclines in a large easy chair, lean over her and lightly press my lips on the smooth bands of grey hair. Cicely suddenly quits the room. ‘ I am afraid she does not like me,’ I say, ‘and I am truly sorry.’ ‘To tell the truth, Vivian, Cicely is surprised out of her usual self. She did not know anything of Kenneth’s visit to Leigh, or anything about you until the evening before your arrival. I told her then. I did not tell her before, because I was not quite sure you and my boy would really become engaged. She was very much annoyed at my silence, and now has the absurd idea that we do not care for her as we formerly did. She has grown up with Kenneth and is fond of him. Naturally, she is jealous of you and your influence over him ; but, believe me, that will soon die out. She is a generous, good-natured little girl, and I want you two to be friends, for the poor child is homeless now, and therefore must live with us till she can marry.’ * I shall try to make her like me, I rejoin, with vague misgivings in my breast, ‘ for I want every one to be my friend, if it is possible.’

In the morning I watch Mrs Griffith drive off to the station to meet her son. I then hide myself in my bed-room, behind the window curtains, and watch and wait for his coming. Ido not have to wait a long while. I hear the rustling sound of carriage wheels, peep cautiously omt and catch one brief, passing look at a handsome, eager face that makes all the sunshine in life for me._ I drop the curtains and leave the window with swelling breast. In the privacy of my room I may disclose what is in my heart—dare confess how I regard Kenneth Griffith! Ah, yes, I may say that I love him—that he is all the world to me ! I love him—l love him !