The Typewritten Letter

Front matter

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Epilogue

gDCOMNERTAL FASHIO^8- AND ENGLISH LIFE. A New Artistically Illustrated Journal of Fashion. PIDLLSHE& FORTNIGHTLY OS THE 7Ta AND 21st OF EACH MONTH. Continental Fashion and English Life is a Journal for English Women of Fashion. Continental Fashion and English Life contains beautifully executed illustrations of Coming Fashions. Continental Fashion and English Life contains special descriptions written " on the spot" by trustworthy writers of costumes as worn in Paris, Vienna, &c. Continental Fashion and English Life chronicles the movements of society and comments on Literature, Art, Music, and the Drama. Ladies will be supplied by post with a Pattern of any Costume shewn in any number of Continental Fashion and English Life which will be cut to their own measure and supplied free on payment of Five Stamps, to cover postage, accompanying instructions as to measurements.

Continental Fashion and English Life obviates the necessity of Ladies buying any other Paper, as it combines the news of the day as well as Fashion, and costs only 6d. Fortnightly. TRISCHLER & COMPANY, 18, NEW BRIDGE STREET, LONDON. E.C

Chapter I. For Future Happiness

After tossing about on his bed for two hours, Travers, rinding it useless to hope for sleep, got up and dressed again. It was then half past five in the morning. " It is quite useless," he s,iid, as he lighted a cigarette and went to the window and looked out. " I shall not be able to sleep again till this thing is off my mind." Then he stood at the window for five minutes or more looking into the street. Seeing that it was a fine morning he put on his hat and coat and went out. " I'll do it to-day," he said as he walked down Piccadilly, " if I had not been a complete ass, I should have done it two months ago." " Yes I'll do it to-day" he repeated, turning on his heel, and springing into a hansom he bade the driver take him to Victoria Station. A few minutes later he was in the first train to the Crystal Palace.

He arrived at Upper Norwood about 6 a. m., and noticing the time by the station clock as he walked out, said to himself : " A very curious hour to choose for making a declaration of love, but as the morning is fine, there are twenty chances to one I shall meet Miss Leigh walking or riding on the common." With these words he set out briskly. Sometime later he found himself outside a little house in Palace Road, which was occupied by Mrs. Leigh and her daughter. Mr. Travers was a handsome man about 30 years of age, who had the good, or bad, fortune of coming into his majority with an income of .#5,000 a year, but who, as is too often the case under such circumstances, had passed his life in the idle quest of amu sement. A few months previous to his introduction to the reader, he had met Dora Leigh at an afternoon party at Norwood, and had fallen madly in love with her.

She was a girl of remarkable beauty, tall, fair, with large blue eyes, and was reputed to be as accom plished as she was undoubtedly beautiful. She was the daughter of an army captain who had died fight ing for his country, and was very well connected. She lived with her mother in a small house at Nor wood. They were in very moderate circumstances and only went into society on the rarest occasions. It was certainly rather difficult for Travers to meet her, a circumstance which perhaps only added to the ardour of his passion. From the very first day on which he had seen her, he had made up his mind to marry her if she would have him, but he had never been able to sum up sufficient courage to make her acquainted with his wishes. " No signs of life yet," said Travers, glancing up at the windows of the house.

" They are evidently all in bed, and what a fool's errand I have come upon ! Fancy jumping out of bed at five o' clock in the mor ning, and rushing off to the suburbs to make a decla ration of love to a young lady whom I have seen only five times, and who possibly hardly knows my name, if she does not indeed ignore my existence. It is just one of those mad freaks I have always been reputed for." As he uttered these last words he suddenly started FOP. FUTURE HAPPINESS. back, and began walking rapidly away from the house to a distance of one hundred yards or so. Here he stopped and turned round. It was as he had thought, for a minute later he saw Dora Leigh coming down the road towards him. She was dressed for walking, and had her two dogs with her. " Now what am I to do?" he asked himself, looking to the right and left.

"In another minute sho will notice me, and how am I to explain my presence here. I could get out of sight by slinking down the lane, but what is the good of coming to Norwood to do that? Wait till she passes, and then follow her to the common? — but it seems to me that would be a caddish thing to do! No! I'll stay here, and if she asks me what brings me down here, I'll tell her straight out — it will be much the best way." Just as he had come to this decision, Miss Leigh, who was now within a few yards of him, looked up and recognized him. " Good morning," he said, raising his hat, " you arje out for an early walk like I am — I suppose." " Your walk must have been commenced much earlier than mine, if you have come all the way from the Albemarle," she said. " Oh ! no," he said, walking along by her side — ' I came down by train — " * Whatever could have brought you to Norwood at this hour?"

" I — I — I — " he began stammering, and then plucking up courage he blurted out : " I came down in the hope of meeting you." " And have realized that hope," she said, " for here I am!" " May I— can I have the honour of walking a little way with you," he continued after an awkward pause, " I very much wish to talk to you." "Oh! certainly," she said, "I shall be very glad of your company, for I have the saddest thoughts in my head this morning." " I am sorry to hear that," he said, " if anyone in the world should be happy it is you. One can hardly imagine you being unhappy — ." He was about to turn a pretty phrase or compliment, but checking himself, again blurted out : " It is no use beating about the bush, Miss Leigh ; I may as well tell you at once what has brought me here. If I had been master of my courage enough to tell you so a month ago, I should have been a happier man than I have been."

Here he paused and, stooping down, picked a few violets which were growing by the wayside, and said: "Will you put these in your corsage — they are as fresh and as beautiful as you are." He was about to begin again, cursing himself all the while for his cowardice, when she, laying her dainty little hand on his arm, looked up to him, with the saddest of beautiful eyes and said, speaking very low and sorrowfully : " You must say nothing more Mr. Travers, it is too late ! " "How, too late?" he cried. She said : " I daresay that yesterday evening twenty — perhaps thirty — people passed by those violets, looked at them, thought they would like to pick them, that they would be pretty things to have at home, but passed on — perhaps too indifferent, or too lazy to stoop and take them; and it may be that some of them will come here again with the very purpose of doing this morning what they neglected to do last night.

It will be too late then because the violets have been picked." Then she laughed— the most piteous little laugh— and added : " I am sure I am most conceited to compare myself to these violets— but, there it is, I have been picked." FOR FUTDRE HAPPINESS. 13 "Do you mean?" he began. * I simply mean that since last night I am engaged to be married." "Mon Dieu!" cried Travers, "last night! — why last night — nay all day yesterday, I was roaming about London like a madman with no other thought in my mind but you, no other words on my tongue but the phrases I was forming to ask you to be mine ! And whilst I was thus playing the fool some body else stepped in — " "And picked the violets!" she said. " Really, really engaged ? irrevocably?" he repeated — " no hope, no issue — not if I tell you that I have loved you ever since I first saw you — not if I tell you that you are everything in the world for me — that I cannot — cannot live without you, that if you marry another man you will break my heart, but that if you would marry me your life would be the happiest a woman ever lived, that I have no greater wish, no greater ambition in life, than to be your slave ?

" She put her hand on his arm again and said : "Please, Mr. Travers, don't continue. It is no use. I have given my promise, I have given my word — it is irrevocable, and it is wrong for me to listen to what you say." "Ah! but — I remember!" he cried, "when I met you this morning you said that you had the saddest thoughts— You are not — you are not marrying for love ?" " I am not," she said, " and for the simple reason perhaps that I love no one. If you had come in time" — this bitterly — "I should have taken you, because I believe you have money— just as I would have taken any man with money." " You don't mean what you say," he interrupted, " you are much too noble to mean what you say. You say this to make me feel my despair less bit terly. You want to make yourself appear vile in my eyes, so that I may not regret what I certainly shall regret till the end of my life.

I don't believe a word of it: I am sure there is no woman in the world whose soul is more pure, and more candid, than yours. You don't care for money." " I can't help it if you won't believe me," she said, " I can only repeat that I am marrying for money — not that I want it for myself, because I could be happy with anything. I think that if I loved a man, I would rather that he was poor, and that he should have to fight his way, and that I should help him to fight his way, than to start in life on the high and level road. But I must not think of myself alone. I have my mother who is very poor, and needs doctors and changes of air and comforts. Then there is my brother, whose school-bill has not been paid for a year, who has to be brought up, and sent to College — and so on and so on! But why should I detail to you all my miseries?

A man has asked me to be his wife; he has the means to make all the others happy — why should I stand in their way? If I loved anybody, perhaps it would be a greater sacrifice, but as it is — " " As it is — " said Travers taking off his hat and turning on his heel — "Good morning!" " Good morning," she replied so sorrowfully that all his anger left him. " I am a brute," be cried, " but it drives me mad to hear you talk like that!" They walked on, side by side, in silence, which he was the first to break. "Do I know him," he asked, "is it Preston? — Cap tain Preston— that handsome cavalry-officer who danced with you so often on the first night that I met you?" "No, I have not seen him since that day.'' "It seems awfully rude of me," he continued, ?to trouble you with my questions, but I should like to know."

"I see no reason why you should not know what everybody will know in a few days — his name is Mr. Lawton." "Mr. Lawton!" cried Travers — " but what Lawton? You don't mean that wretched old city man — the fellow with the million and the dirty nails — who has that gigantic house in Eccleston Square, and who rides down to it every night from his office in the city on the Monster Bus?" "Yes — he does live in Eccleston Square." "And you — you are actually going to marry that fat old man!" "I am marrying his million," she said. " Well," he replied bitterly, all I can do then is to congratulate you, wish you great happiness — and a very good morning ! " This time she did not detain him, and he walked on, muttering to himself : " It is not possible for that wretched old man to marry such a beautiful girl — Oh! that cursed money!"

And then ho tried to con sole himself in his disappointment by accusing her of cupidity and meanness — but it was of no use, because he could not bring himself to believe that she was guilty of that. He was certain that she was being forced into this marriage, sacrificing herself for her family. Of course it was possible that she did not love him, nor any other man, but he made no doubt that, if he had been favoured with the opportunity and the time, he would have soon brought her to love him, a thought which made him feel inclined to cry out with the bitterness of despair. " What is to become of me," he cried as he paced up and down the platform of Norwood Station, waiting for the Victoria train— "I cannot go back to the old life, moping about the clubs and theatres, I must go right away from all this, and try a change.

It may help me to forget. I know that if I stay in London I shall be constantly going down to Norwood trying to see her, and that would be an ungentle manly and unkind thing to do, seeing the position she is in." While he was thus speaking, his eye fell on a poster illustrating the marvels of the Paris Exhibition, which had been opened a day or two previously. "By George!" he cried. " Why should I not go there? They are terribly tedious things — these exhibitions — to be sure, and I had made up my mind not to set foot in the Champ de Mars, but, after all, it may be just the change that I want. I daresay there will be lots of things of interest to see, and then Paris at any time is pleasant to live in. Let me see, I can get up to town by eight. Ferguson can pack my things, and I can be off by the club-train in time to dine comfortably at Voisin's to-night.

If I remain in London any longer, I shall be insulting that fellow Lawton. And — apropos] — if that isn't one of the old fellow's posters!" With these words he ran the point of his stick up against one of the posters on the wall — it was that of the firm of auctioneers 'Lawton and Bailey' of the city, announcing a long list of properties for sale. The senior partner in this firm was the person to whom Miss Leigh was engaged. He was one of the richest men in the city. It is1 quite certain that his personal fortune did not fall far short of the million, which was generally attributed to him. Most of this money had been made in speculations of a particular sort, which it is not necessary to mention here, but which — in a way — resembled those of the famous French ' Bande Noire', the essential feature consisting in preying upon land-owners in difficulties.

He was a big, fat man, very loud and vulgar, and of no par ticularly pleasing appearance — it could not be denied, even by his frienoX that his hands were dirty, and it was a standing joke in Bishopsgate to accost him with the well know formula of the largely advertised firm of soap manufacturers — " Good morning" — and so on. Certainly no more unsuitable husband for so ladylike and beautiful a girl as Dora Leigh could have been imagined, and apart from his own feelings on tho subject one can quite sympathize with Travers, as in his rage — and regardless of any pains and penalties — he amused himself in lacer ating the posters of his rival with the point of his Malacca cane. Unfortunately this mild revenge did not go far towards cooling his temper, and he was still boiling over with indignation when he reached his rooms at the Albemarle an hour later.

He found his valet awaiting him, and without ordering break fast told him to pack his valise. " You can take a holiday Ferguson," he said, " I am going away for a month or two and shan't want you. As a matter of fact I shall miss you, because I can't get on well without you — but then I am hanged if I want to see your face for some time — I don't want to be reminded of anything here ! But — I say, Ferguson," he added : " Do me a favour. When ever you see any of that cad Lawton's bills against the wall, tear them down; and if you have got any friends who want a name for an ugly bull-pup, tell them to call it 'Lawton'— I will be its godfather, and pay for the collar. And look here— don't call a man who offends you a blackguard, again, — call him a dirty Lawton!" B " All right, sir," said Ferguson, "I am quite willing," and then he went off to pack his master's things.

The train reached the Gare du Nord at six, and Travers drove at once to the Hotel de Hollande in the Rue de la Paix, where he dressed. After writing a long letter to Dora Leigh, in which he apologized for the rudeness of his conduct that morning and implored that in case anything should occur to stop her marriage to allow him to speak to her more amply than he had done, he went out and made his way to the famous ' Cafe Voisin,' where it was his habit to dine whenever he was in Paris. The rooms downstaii g being completely filled with customers, he was shown by the malfre d' hotel into a small dining-room on the first floor, in which there were two gentlemen sitting down at a table at the far end. They were evidently rather 'far gone,' and were talking loudly over a fourth bottle of the excellent and particular cham pagne of the house.

The maitre d'Mtel looked at them deprecatingly, and bending down to Travers, who was a well known and highly esteemed customer of his, said : " You must not mind, but this exhibition does bring the strangest people to Paris — besides I think they will be going soon." " Barbue a la Voisin, did you say, for the second course ? " * Oh ! anything you like. I put myself entirely in your hands," said Travers. During the few minutes which elapsed before the soup and the hors d'oeuvres were placed on the table, he amused himself by looking at his companions at dinner. Their appearance was certainly peculiar. They were the sort of men who at first sight appeal -c I to be gentlemen, but who after a minute's scrutiny impressed unfavourably. One was a small Jewish looking man, with curly black hair and abundant jewellery, the other a tall, cadaverous looking individual, with light sandy hair, and a clean shaven face.

He wore a long black frock coat and a white tie, as is worn by solicitors in France. His companion was in evening-dress. They were evidently both in high spirits, and talked very loudly. When the maUre d' hot el came back, Travers said to him : * You might inform these gentlemen that there is a stranger in the room — they don't seem to have noticed me. It is really embarrassing for me to listen to their conversation about affairs, which, I should say, were strictly private." Obedient to his request the maUre d'hotel crossed over, touched the Jewish looking man on the shoulder, and whispered something to him. He turned round, put on his eye-glass, and scrutinized Travers with considerable insolence — then turned round and con tinued speaking as loudly as ever. " I wonder if that fellow wants to cheek me," said Travers, clenching up his napkin in his hand.

"By George! I wish he would! I should like to let some of my bad temper off on somebody, and these two fellows look just the men who deserve an occasional thrashing ! " An opportunity for commencing a quarrel was not slow in coming. " I say Grunberg," said the cadaverous looking Frenchman. " We ought to have taken a private room. That Englishman over there keeps glaring at me in a way to turn champagne sour!" " But, my friend Lacour," answered the other, "you must not be surprised at that— this exhibition has brought all sorts of people to Paris, and we sha'n't be comfortable till it is over." "You won't be comfortable very much longer," answered Travers, starting up— "you two fellows over there— if you make any more remarks about 'that Englishman.' Which of you wants a thrashing now — tell me !

I am just in the humour to give one ! " The two men started to their feet: the one in evening-dress grasped the champagne bottle round the neck as if to use it as a weapon of defence; the tall man turned a more ghastly pale and trembled violently. " Pshaw ! " said Travers, going back to his place, " I cannot quarrel with such fellows as those," and so saying he moved his chair, so as to have his back to them, and went on with his dinner. He could hear a consultation in whispers going on behind him, and presently a waiter was rung for, and a further discussion in an undertone was commenced. At last the waiter crossed over to him with two cards in his hand, and laid them on the table by his side. " The two gentlemen consider that you have insulted them grossly. They send you their cards and demand yours in return."

Travers took up the two cards, tore them up, and flung them on the floor. Turning round on his chair, he said : " That sort of thing is not done by inter mediaries — if they want my card, let them come and fetch it." Then he went on with dinner, quietly. A few minutes later noticing absolute silence in the room, he looked round and saw that the two had gone. " I thought as much ! " he said. After the coffee had been served, and he was sitting over it with a cigar, he noticed the torn cards on the floor, and out of curiosity he stooped down and picked them up. One was small and plain, and bore on it in gothic letters the name 'Emile Grunberg,' the other was a very fine transparent card, ornamented in the corner with a coronet, and bore the inscription ' Vicomte de Lacour.' " Just the very names," he said, * that I should have thought! — evidently two swindlers !

" He was just going to push the cards off the table on to the floor again, when a second thought struck him, and he said : " No ! I'll keep these — something may come of it perhaps. Who knows?" He then rung for his bill, paid it and went off to the exhibition, where he also passed the following three days. Certainly there was much of interest to see, things which at any other time would have delighted him, but which then he was not at all in the mood to enjoy. Try as he would, he could not forget his terrible disappointment. The thought of Dora Leigh was with him always, and as each day went by his grief became stronger and stronger. On the evening of the fourth day, while he was walking desolately about one of the picture galleries in the Champ de Mars, an irresistible impulse came over him to go back to London at once.

" Who knows?" he said, "perhaps if 1 see her again, and tell her once more that I love her, this shameful marriage may be abandoned. I can do nothing whilst I am here, I only torture myself— I will go back to London at once." It was then three o'clock in the afternoon, and he had time to jump into a cab, drive to the Hotel, get his things, and catch the club-train back to Lcndon at four. Rushing out by the Porte Rapp he got into a cab and bade the driver gallop to the Hotel de Hollande. By means of a liberal fee to the waiter he was able to get his things packed in a few minutes. Just as he was again taking his seat in the cab, and was ordering the driver hurry off to the Northern Station, the hotel-porter came running out with a packet of letters in his hand. " Here are several letters for you," he said, " which came after you left this morning."

" Thank you ! " Travers took the packet and thrust it into his pocket. "I will read them in the train.'' he said— " If only there be one from Dora Leigh ! " As soon as he was comfortably settled in the smoking-car of the club-train, he took out his letters and began to examine them. There were seven in all; the fifth, which he eagerly tore open, came from Norwood. It was as he thought— from Miss Leigh. Its contents were very short and ran: V "Dear Mr. Travers, "I must thank you for your very kind letter, but I am sorry to tell you that you must not write to me again. My marriage with Mr. Lawton is irrevo cably fixed, and will take place before the end of the month. You will understand that under these circumstances it will be impossible for me to receive any more such letters as the one you sent me, though I fully appreciate the spirit in which it was written.