Weekly Mail

Love in a Boarding-house ^London was muffled up in a fog of the true November flavour, a dense yellow abomination which appealed to nose and palate like smoke from a particularly foul chimney. People gasped and wept and choked in the streets on this dismal November night as they pushed their way through the pungent vapour, which was of such density as to render traffic in the more crowded thoroughfares a matter of con- siderable difficulty. And it was upon this most inauspicious evening that our story begins, the first scene of which is laid in the dining-room of Captain Cranmer's residence, in Flittertoa-square, Bioinpton. The captain and his wife were discussing a topic which bad occupied a good deal of their attention for many years; indeed, their con- fidential chats were mainly devoted to this subject. Perhaps we had better confess at once that the captain couldn't remember the time when he was free from debt; as he bad said himself on more than one occasion. Why, I believe I was born in debt." And yet somehow or other he bore up cheerfully enough under the load of obligation con- tracted during a long life of chronic impecu- niosity. A man of cheerful disposition and generous habits, Ned Cranmer would cot give in to misfortune so long as he could, by hook or crook, get enough money to meet his more immed ate requirements. A oursory glance at him was sufficient to convince you that you were in the presence of a man whose spirit was untamed by reverses. Of medium height, upright as a dart, with chubby cheeks and an elborately curled gray moustache, Ned Cranmer, though now in his fifty-seventh year, looked as trim and happy and proud as if be were a millionaire instead of a penniless old soldier. His wife was a jolly, happy-looking creature, too, who must have been a handsome woman in her day. She was very fat now-so fat, indeed, that walking was a trouble to her, and hence she spent most of her time in a very easy chair, chatting with her boarders or read- ing the papers. Yep, as a last resort the Cranmers tried to make a living out of the boarding-house busi- ness, and had managed to get along, in their way, for two years without a crisis. But the crisis had come at last, and how to escape disaster the captain did not know. I have never been on a more disappoint- ing foraging expedition, Doll," be said, poking the fire until it roared up the chimney. I tried everybody, but couldn't raise a sovereign. I offered fo pay the most alarming rates of interest for a small advance, but it was no go and as for trying to borrow money in the sacred name of friendship"—and a look of disgust came over the captain's face—" you might as well try to borrow it on the security of an empty medicine bottle." That's a bad outlook, Ned. But the weather was against you. People are apt to be disagreeable m nasty weather. What shall we do now?" asked his wife, as she held her plump hands before the blaze to shield her eyes. In the first place, how is Sybil's business progressing ? There is no doubt that Mr. Carrick loves her, and if she gives him the least encouragement he'il pop the question, and" The captain's harangue was cut short by the entrance of his daughter Sybil, a tall, hand- some girl, with curly auburn hair and lustrous dark blue eyes. There's a strike in the kitchen, mamma," she said, with a significant nod. "Both .Tane and Emma refuse to dish up the dinner until their wages for last quarter are paid." "A rebellion, by Jove!' exclaimed the captain, opening his goggle-eyes very wide, and giving his moustache a fierce and warlike twist. Dinner was doe and the table was already laid, and as the two boarders were even now coming downstairs the position was extremely critical. But the captain was equal to the emer- gency. Going downstairs, he found the cook and housemaid sullenly staring at the fire, and making no preparations to send up the dinner. "Girls," said the captain in a soothing tone (the women were both close on fifty), let us not quarrel over trifles." Well, then, pay us our wages. We only want our.rights," exc'aim,d the cook, stand- ing up and facing the captain. "'Ear, 'ear, Heinma," cried out the house- maid. You shall have your wages if you do your duty like God-fearing British lasses, as you both are. Come, come, my girls, we are all in the same boat, and "But what about my wage3 for last quarter urged the oook, quite unmodified by the captain's blarney. We don't want to know nothing about boats, Capting Cranmer; boats isn't money," observed the housemaid, with matter-of-fact severity. 1, Look here said the captain, with a grand oratorical flourish. The boarders are hungry, and if they don't get their dinner promptly we shall all have to whistle for our money. I therefore call upon you in the sacred name of duty to send up the bashed mutton and potatoes at once." His daughter appeared at. this instant, and was about to prepare the dishes herself when the servants returned to their woik, and in a few minutes the dinner was sent upstairs. Mr. Carrick, the elder of the two boarders, was a dark, saturnine looking man, with coarse black hair which stood erect on his bison-like head. Not a pre- erect on his bison-like head. Not a pre- possessing-looking person by any means on the contrary, people of weak nerves or of a keenly susceptible organisation were apt to shrink from him instinctively, as if his presence inspired them with loathing and terror. He was a powerfully built man, and his age might have been anything between forty and fifty. All that the Cranmers knew of him was that he bad returned from the colonies within the last few years, and bad purchased a small estate on the Norfolk coast, where he lived in close retirement, varied by occasional visits to London. Though he was evidently well to do, he was by no means lavish in his expenditure, his habits being those of a man who bad had a sharp expe- rience of penury. Gerald Romer, his fellow-hoarder, was a pleasant-looking man of perhaps seven-and- twenty, with a frank open face, the sure indi- catm of a manly and oandid disposition. He had been staying in Flitterton-equare for ni arly eight months now, and though he was a well-bred man and accustomed to move in good sooiety, he seemed to be without friends and sorely pressed for money. In fact, his pecuniary deficiencies were beginning to caulle anxiety to Mrs. Cranmer and the captain, both of whom suffered too much in that way themselves to be able to make any practical allowances for the money troubles of other people. Dinner over, Sybil retreated to the drawing- room, leaving the others in the parlour. In a few moments Gerald Romer made his appearance, and drawing his chair close to the piano, at which Sybil was seated, said, in a voice of nervous hesitation, which was very unusual with him., Why are you people so huffy with me, Miss Cranmer ? I'm sure I don't know; in fact, I didn't know they were huffy with you," she replied, still carelessly running her fingers over the keys of the piano. -0 "You must know very well that I have particular reasons for keeping on good terms with your parents." After a moment's pause, he repeated. Particular reasons," and looked earnestly at her as he uttered those signifi- cant words. Sybil bent her bead over the keys and reso- lutely evaded his glance, though her heart was palpitating with joy at the revelation of tenderness disclosed by his words. After a short pause he rose from his chair with a sudden movement, and com- menced to walk about the room in an agitated manner. Stopping abruptly, he said in a tone of pas- sionate protest, li it is worse than death to be tortured thus. I cannot believe that you- lie stopped suddenly and approached her. "Answer me this one question frankly, Miss Cranmer. Mind, I say franldr." Sybil rose to her feet; she was angry and indignant. You forget yourself, Mr. Romer," she said, resentfully. I do not permit people to speak to me in that manner." And Sybil left the room, sorry that she had given way to her anger, and yet feeling that Gerald had treated her with but little con- sideration. In the seclusion of her own room she sought relief from agonised feeling in L, tears, sob after sob breaking from her in the extremity of her distress. Sybil bad nut long left the drawing-room when her father appeared, his manner being unusually grave and formal, a circumstance which instantly arrested the attention of Gerald Romer, who felt instinctively that mischief was brewin, Mr. Homer," said the captain, stiffly, as a man of the world you will not be offended, I hope, if I request an immediate settlement of last month's account." "Oh! I didn't think there was any hurry for the money, captain. I thought, perhaps, you wouldn't mind waiting until the new year, when I shall be quite free from all pecuniary anxieties, I hope." To wait for a week, much less for a month, is quite out of the question, my good tsir. 1 pay my way, and I expect other people to pay theirs." Romer was a touchy, sensitive fellow, and these remarks cut him to the quick. Perhaps I made a mistake in confessing my difficulty to you," he said sharply. "I only owe you something like fifteen pounds, and I have plenty of things here to cover that amount." Feigning not to hear this, the captain said :— I deeply regret the turns things have taken, but youth will have its fling, as the poet says, without closely estimating the cost. Just now-owing to my daughter's approach- ing marriage "— Your daughter's approaching marriage," interrupted Romer, his face suddenly assum- ing a ghastly pallor. 6 11 What F Didn't you know she was about, under heaven's blessing, to become the wife of my dear friend Carrick ?" asked the captain, cordially. Geeald Romer made no reply in fact, for a few minutes the shock seemed to paralyse him. Then he left the room, and not long afterwards left the house, the following letter, which was found in his bedroom, explaining his strange conduot "Mr. Romer, for reasons which call for no explanation, has decided to leave Captain Cranmer's house. The jewellery and clothes in Mr. Homer's room will be sufficient to cover his indebtedness to Captain Cranmer." On the following day Sybil Cranmer was given to understand that Mr. Romer had left the house in a huff," and nothing further said to explain his conduct to her. She ob- served with disgust that her father had com- menced to wear the olothes which had been left behind by Gerald Romer, and this con- vinced her that the return of the latter was not expected. Meanwhile the captain's embarrassments were accumulating in the most distressing manner, and the second week in Deoember saw him up to his knees in county-court sum- monses. For current expenses he was abso- lutely dependent upon Mr. Carrick, who was perpetually advancing him small sums to meet the daily wants of the household. The boarder was also very attentive to Sybil, and though naturally a man of little polish or refinement, he managed to make himself agreeable with- out causing her any pain or annoyance. Sybil's mother was meanwhile urging her to favour Carrick's suit. and it was upon this subject that they were talking this evening in the dining-room, some four weeks after the diiappeatance of Gerald Romer. The captain and Carrick had retreated to the smoking- room for a confidential chat. In less than another week, Sybil, we shall be actually houseless and homeless—beggars in the streets of London, unless you consent to save us," said her mother, who could be very pathetic at times. But what a dreadful thing it is to marry a man for whom one has no liking even, not to speak of love exclaimed Sybil, driven almost to despair by her mother's distress, for she was a generous-hearted girl, and the position of affairs was so critical as to make her forget everything save the urgent need of assisting her unfortunate parents. Ab, Sybil, depend upon it you will soon learn to love Mr. (larrick." inever exclaimed the girl, almost fiercely. He is wealthy and good-natured and steady," continued Mrs. Cranmer, whose tears were flowing freely. He'll wear well, my dear, much better than those" Here she utterly broke down. "Mother!" said Sybil, rising to her feet abrubtly, I'll consent to be Mrs. Carrick- there, there," rejecting her mother's embraces. 1 can say no more now," and she left the parlour and retired to her bedroom for the night. The joyful news was conveyed to Mr. Car- rick, who lost no time in testing its truth on the following day. The matter was arranged in a very business-like and expeditious manner, Mr. Carrick insisting upon the mar- riage taking place as soon as possible, as he expected to be called away on business at any moment. At Sybil's express wish the ceremony was performed before a registrar, no one being present but her parents- The 17th of December saw Sybil the wife of Rufus Carrick, and the most unhappy crea- ture on God's earth. Cheer up, my dear," said her father, as they were all gathered together in the dining- room after the ceremony. This is the happiest he stopped. The ghastly pallor of Sybil's face, the wild, dis- traught expression of her eyes, touohed even his selfish and callous nature with pity. I'm afraid you're not very well, dear," he added, exchanging a significant glanoe with Carrick and his wife, both of whom had already noticed the change in Sybil. My darling little wife," eaid Carrick, ap- proaching her, h yon 11 soon get all right in the country." She shrank from him, saying, ft Ohy my God, have pity upon me Her mother tried to soothe her, but in vain; and when the time came for leaving London for Carrick's home on the Norfolk coast Sybil refused to accompany him unless her father and mother went with them, too. And finding her obdurate, Carrick, though with evident reluctance, consented to this arrangement, The Firs, Mr. Carrick's residence, stood in grounds which were enclosed by high walls, which completely sheltered it from public view. Clumps of fir-trees stood near the house, their plumose branches casting a deep funereal shadow over the building. Welcome to our new home. Mrs. Carrick,' said the tenant of The Firs, as he ushered the' family into a lugubrious sitting-room, whose panelled walls and heavy worm-eaten furni- ture told of years of decay and neglect, It's an old place," he added apologetically, H and I haven't had it altered yet, but if I remain in England, we can soon make it look bright and cheerful." Mrs. Carrick said nothing; there she sat, close to her mother, her lovely face as rigid and tense as the face of the dead. The only servant in the bouse was an old woman, clad in a course black dress, who looked as if she had spent her life in the dark and dusty obscurity of this g'oomy dwelling. Sybil sat motionless as a statue at the supper table, neither eating, nor drinking, nor speaking, "Look here said Casrick, rising from his chair and approaching her. "No more of these tine lady tricks with me," and he seized her roughly by the arm. Quick as thought she was on her feet, with a knife in her upraised baud. And again the cry of anguish rose from the depth of her troubled heart, Oh, my God, have pity on me Carrick retreated from her, cowed by her fierce and menacing attitude, in which he saw that from which the bravest shrink in terror. She's mad he whispered hoarsely to Mrs. Cranmer, and left the room hurriedly. The distraught girl spent the night with her mother, and it was decided at present not to separate them. Sybil's mind was un- doubtedly affected; but whether permanently or temporarily it was impossible to say at the moment. Her only amusement seemed to be in writing the name "Gerald." She would spend hours in penning her lover's name on sheets of paper, thus showing how her dis- tracted mind still clung to that one associa- tion of the happy past. Meanwhile Carrick led a gloomy, restless life. Whatever his disappointments may have been in connection with recent unhappy events, it was clear that he tudother anxieties too, quite distinct from them. Tell me, again," he said to bis old servant a week after bis arrivel, what you said to that stranger who addressed you on the road a month or so back." He stopped me outside the gate, sir, ana said, I Can you tell me who lives here, my good wonian ?' An' I told him, an' he kept on repeating your name for about five minutes." Yes, yes, yes," he said imperatively; but what was he like ?" It was so dark I couldn't very well tell, sir." With an exolamation of impatience he turned from her. That evening after dinner he said to the captain, Cranmer, I'm going to leave Eng- land." "All right, my dear boy," said the Captain, who somehow or other managed to enjoy himself amid the misery of this unhappy household. "Sybil will be sorry to hear that." That's what I want to talk to you about. A voyage will do her good. We must tako her out of this, and once she's on board ship t'll take charge of her," and a malicious twinkle sparkled in Carrick's eyes as he said this. Whatever I can do to promote your hap- piness shall be done. If you like, Doll and I will go with you too. We're all one family now, you know "— more brandy— and, what's mine is vours with a heart and a half." You're a devilish good-natured fellow, I know," said Carrick, rising to his feet. 1'1'11 be back in the course of a few hours. I'm sending a letter off at once to inquire about the sailing of the next Melbourne clipper. The longer the voyage the better for my wife," and so saying Carrick left the bouse and walked rapidly down the avenue, and so through the gates and along the dark, lonely road towards the village of Branson, which was nearly two miles from the firs. Meanwhile the captain smoked and drank, and the hours passed on. Ten, eleven, twelve, and still no signs of Carrick. Coming on the morning, Mrs, Cranmer joined her husband. Sybil is asleep. 1 think a change for the 11 better has come over her. Oh! Ned, I'm afraid we've been very wicked towards that poor girl—especially in intercepting Mr. Romer's last letter to her," said Mrs. Cranmer tearfully. The captain was on the point of replying, when there was a loud rap at the front door, on answering which four men with a police- constable entered the ball bearing a stretcher. Removing a cloth, the dead face of Sybil's husband met the eyes of Captain Cra mer and his wife. The head is nigh severed from the body," said the police officer, pointing to a terrible wound in the dead man's throat. This was pinned to his breast," be added, banding a sheet of paper to the Captain, upon which was written: "Jack Renshaw, otherwise Rufus Carriok, robbed and tried to murder his pal in the Cape diamond fields. To square accounts the writer of these words followed Renshaw and killed him—being, as he now aubcribes himself—Jack Renshaw's Old Pal." Sybil was back again in Flittcrton-square. She was still weak and depressed, but reason had returned, and the short and terrible expe- lience at The Firs seemed to her now like the memory of a hideous dream. Of the particu- lars of her husband's death she knew little beyond the facts already mentioned, nor did anything else transpire connected with tb. tragio event worthy of record. She had already resumed her maiden name, and obeying the spirit of repugnance with which she had regarded her marriage, she haA resolutely refused to touch any portion of th", dead man's property. After resting for a time she rose to go, but her strength failed her, and she would have fallen to the ground had not a frípndy hanA supported her. Good God! can this be Pybil ? exelaimeA a familiar voice. Gerald Romer, looking the picture of pros- perity, stood before her. You do not-you cannot know what I have suffered 1" she s-id, faintly. You were so hasty, so Her voice failed her utterly, and with a low moan of agony she becaaie unconscious. Gerald drove her home, where he heard the story of her sufferings from her mother, who confessed that he had intercepted the letter whioh Gerard had written to her after leaving the house, It wag his turn then to explain that a quarrel of long-standing with a wealthy unle had been happily arranged, thus placing him in a position of considerable affinence. H Darling," he said, as he clasped her in his arms, our marriage must not be long delayed, for I want to take you abroad and to nurse you into heafth and strength again. She turned her lustrous eyes towards him, saying tremulously, Gerard, my love!" and then their lips met, and they knew that they were standing on the threshold of a life of perfect joy and sympathy,—ii, L. BÂBBY.