Fenton's Quest

onderous mahogany desks, and wrote industriously all day long; and an inner and smaller apartment, where there was a faded Turkey-carpet instead of the kamptulicon that covered the floor of the outer

glazed, and catalogues of merchandise that had been sold, or was to be sold, hanging loosely one on the other. Besides these, there were a great many of those flimsy papers that record the state of things on 'Change, hanging here and there on the brass ra

nitialed a good many accounts, and written half-a-dozen letters already, and had thrown himself back in his easy-chair for a few minutes' idle musin

d powerfully built, with a naturally dark complexion, which had been tanned still darker by sun and wind, black eyes and heavy black eyebrows, a head a little bald at the top, and a face that might have been called almost u

ommerce. They had been up the Nile together in the course of these wanderings; and here, remote from all civilized aid, Gilbert had fallen ill of a fever-a long tedious business which brought him to the very point of death, and throughout which John Saltram had nursed him with a womanly tenderness and devotion tha

rally contrived to be in debt; and there were few periods of his life in which he was not engaged more or less in the delicate operation of raising money by bills of accommodation. Habit had given him quite an artistic touch for this kind of thing, and he did his work fondly, like some enthusiastic horticulturist who gives his anxious days to the budding forth of some new orchid or the production of a hitherto unobtainable t

ng him with a hearty handshaking, "this is an agreeable surprise! I was asking for you at the Pnyx

ernoon; but whether I shall get it out of him is a fact only known to himself and the powers with which he holds communion. And was the rustic business pleasant, Gil? Did you take kindly to the syllabubs and new milk, the summer sunrise over dewy fields, the pretty dairy-maids, and prize pigs, and daily inspections of the home-farm? or did you find

think the Lis

It is a vice to know him. And

as happier there than I have

than a quiet fortnight with a married sister. Come, old fe

I have fallen in love, if that's

ather quick work,

birth, he is no love at all.' My passion sprang into life full-grown

s the

She is the adopted niece of a half-pay capt

candour of friendship; "not a very advantageous mat

red the matter from

all that is cha

mind,

y yo

net

in the bondage of matrimony, it will be to a lady who can pay my debts and set me on my legs for life. Whether such a one will ever consider my ugly face a fair equivalent for her specie, is an op

. I have told Marian a great deal about you already. She knows that I

come a day when the familiar bachelor friend falls under the domestic taboo, together with smok

forward to the happiest home that ever a man possessed; and it would be no home of mine if you were not welcome and honoured in it. I hope we shall spend many a summer evening on the lawn, Jack, with a bottle of Pomard or St. Julien between us, wat

none of the faults that render me ineligible for the married state. I thi

wel

ty name! When do you think

in-law wants me to go back to

have a pop at the pheasants. It will give me an

ntroduce you, old fellow. I k

general; but I am sure to like your future wife,

rs, Jack-how have t

ividual, you know. Destiny and I have be

love yet

nswered, with rat

ttitude, gazing meditatively at his boots, and hitting one of th

t mean to say that I would marry a woman I disliked, and take it out of her in ill-usage or neglect. I am not quite such a scoundrel as that. But if I had the luck to meet with a woman

ilbert, "you have me

hav

ace, the thick black eyebrows contracted in a frown, and t

ht now that I'm down a pit myself; but, for God's sake, don't marry a woman you can't love. Tolerably pretty and agreeable won't do, Jack,-that means in

, the lady in question isn't free to marry just yet. There's a husband in the case-a feeble old Anglo-Indian, who can't live very long. Don't look so glum, old fellow; there has been nothing wrong, not a word that all the world might not hear; but there are signs and tokens by which a man, wit

definite number of years, during which yo

best of life, has his good days and bad days, and entertains a great deal of company at a delightful place near Maidenhead-with a garden sloping to the river like that you were t

tation, come what may. But I can't say I like the idea of this prospecti

in this case, believe me. Mrs. Branston knows that I like and admire her. She knows as much of almost every man who goes to Rivercombe; for there are plenty who will be disposed to go in against me for the prize by-and-by. But I think that she likes me better than any one els

he pr

n who has sworn by eyes as black as a stormy midnight and raven hair generally unites himself to the most insipid thing in blondes, and the idol

ver yo

he is to the fore when you go. I fancy there is some kind of regatta

well i

h other in the meantime, I hope. I know that I am a sore hindrance to business at such an hour as this. W

plea

reception of callers of a more commercial and profitable character; John Saltr

, with the gaiety of a man for whom life is made up of swift transitions from brightness to gloom, long intervals of despondency, and brief glimpses of pleasure; t

tributes of his love which he had sent her, the books and music and ribbons and gloves, in the purchase whereof he had found such a novel pleasure. It had been a common thing for him to execute such commissions for his sister; but it was quite a new sensation to him to discuss the colours of gloves and ribbons, now that the trifles he chose were to give pleasure to Marian Nowell. He knew every tint that harmonised or contrasted best

, and entertained that gentleman with certain passages from it as they sped down to Maiden

nothing but her beauty to recommend her. That wonderful gift of be

rday, with only the prim splendours of modern horticulture to recommend them, but spreading lawns, on which the deep springy turf had been growing a hundred years-lawns made delicious in summer time by the cool umbrage of old forest-trees; fertile rose-gardens screened from the biting of adverse winds by tall hedges of h

into the pretty drawing-room. The cheerful sound of croquet-balls came from a level stretch of grass visible fro

s looped up over an elaborately-flounced muslin petticoat. She was a slender little woman, with a brilliant complexion, sunny waving hair, and innocent blue eyes;

f very much pleased

he said. "He is always praising you. I believe he

r," answered John Saltram, "and Gi

Mrs. Branston's girlish face, and

and to-day," she said, after a brief

ing for the race. Here Gilbert found some pleasant people to talk to; while Adela Branston and John Saltram strolled, as if by accident, to a seat a little way apart from the

nterest in John Saltram's conversation than in the race. It is possible she had seen too many such contests to care much for the result of this one. Sh

all kinds Adela Branston set her face, and had a polite way of dropping people from whom she derived no amusement, pleading in her pretty childish way that it was so much more pleasant for all parties. That this mundane existence of ours was not intended to be all pleasure, was an idea that never yet troubled Adela Branston's mind. She had been petted and spoiled by everyone about her from the beginning of her brief life, and had passed from the frivolous career of a school-girl to a position of wealth and independence as Michael Branston's wife;

he grave judicial-looking butler, whose omniscient eye reigned above the pleasant confusion of the scene. And after about an hour and a half wasted in this agreeable indoor picnic, Mrs

in the room, except the wax candles on the piano, listening to good music, and talking a little no

ady, who rather bored him with her raptures about the music, and who seemed to have assisted at every morning and evening concert that had been given within the last two years. To any remoter period her memory did not extend, and she

r of Mrs. Branston's guests having come from town. There was a scarcity of flys at this

of the lady?" Mr. Saltram asked, when they wer

ether, and I fancy there's considerable bad taste in giving parties with an invalid husband upstairs. I was wondering

lk much on those occasions. Indeed, I believe he is quite incapable of conversing about anything except the rise and fall of Indian stock, or the fluctuat

w," said Gilbert Fenton, who was inclined to set

o go along with blue spectacles and a rugged aspect. A woman's prettiness must stand for something. There is so much real pleasure in the contemplatio

you really in love with her, Jo

t her release from Michael Branston, than the kind of liking I feel for her. No, I am not in love with her; but I th

whose domination he had been apt to submit in most things, as to the influence of a superior mind. It disappointed him a little to find that John Saltram was capable of making a mercenary marriage, capable even of the gre