WHILE 'TIS MAY. BY THE AUTHOR OF "A DESPERATE CHARACTER," &c. PREFACE. THE Author disclaims any personal connection with the following story, which is purely a work of fiction, not in the least founded on fact: the whole of the characters introduced, including the supposed narrator, are altogether imaginary; the novel is not autobiographical. CHAPTER I. THOUGH the bluest of blue blood, derived from "a hundred Earls," flowed in his veins, res angusta domi compelled him, years ago, to adopt a plebeian calling, much to the horror of his aristocratic father, who in the bitterness of his soul, when first he heard of his son's resolution, exclaimed: "You were surely changed at nurse, Cosmo!" An untenable hypothesis, seeing that from the day of his birth until he had attained the mature age of twelve years, when he was sent to school, he had never been absent from the paternal domicile for more than a few hours together, when taking an airing with his nurse. The truth being, that his plebeian taste for res not angusta had been inherited, together with many other estimable qualities, from his sainted mother, whose parents had been-why should one be ashamed to write, or he to hear, it ?—in the "public" line; and behind the "bar" of whose most respectable establishment the author of his being, then a lieutenant in a marching regiment, without a penny in the world beyond his pay, first beheld the beauteous creature whom he subsequently, finding that by no other means could be achieve her conquest, consented to make his wife. Prolixity I abominate; but unless I explain how I came to be in the position I occupy at present-for I may as well confess at once that I am writing about myself, and exchange the third person singular for the first-it would be impossible for me to account for my acquaintance with the hero of this mend--I should say, veracious history. I am not my own hero, gentle reader: far from it. "No man,' January.-VOL XV., NO. LXXXV. 1 said Talleyrand, or somebody else, "is a hero to his valet;" much ess, then, I say, to himse.f. I am not my own hero-excuse the repetition of the word-though I may have an idea that I have played that role in some other person's estimation ; but that is neither here nor there. Unless I introduce some one of my personages first, I cannot begin my story. I do not suppose it is necessary, however, nor would it be of interest to any one to mention the date of my birth; for ladies, contrary to the popular belief, are not alone in their abhorrence of dates (a very good fruit, too, in its proper season). So, whether I first saw the light during the reign of her present Gracious Majesty, or either of her lamented uncles, is nothing to the purpose. The "Medical Register" gives the date of my several diplomas, and the public may draw their own conclusions therefrom; but rack nor thumbscrew shall induce me to say another word upon the subject. As I have already remarked, I hate prolixity. Most rightminded people do; but the mention of the "Register" reminds me that I may, in confidence, impart to the public, but only under the strictest possible promise of secrecy, that I belong to the medical profession. No; not a physician, bartering his knowledge and experience for guineas, I regret to say; but an humble general practitioner, parting with the result of his prolonged and careful study of the human frame in health and disease for trumpery half-crowns. From whence it may be concluded that my domicile, surgery inclusive, is not situated in an aristocratic quarter of this great metropolis-for my home is in London, I may admit that much-but at the very antipodes of fashiondom, within easy distance of that favourite resort of the "great unwashed," Victoria Park. With prolixity I equally abominate talking about myself; but what am I to do? I have admitted that my fees, instead of being guineas, mainly consist of half-crowns, intermingled with florins and occasional shillings-though in general I avoid accepting the latter by themselves if I can at all help it-yet my income, from the above sources, somewhat exceeds a thousand pounds per annum; from whence it may be readily gathered that my practice is no sine. cure, but enough to knock up two horses a year; which is exactly the amount of horseflesh I consume between January and December. I am pretty strong; in fact, I may say that I am blessed with an extraordinary good constitution; nevertheless the increasing wear and tear of my busi-practice, I mean-told upon me to such an extent some time ago that my wife, a most inestimable person, insisted upon my obtaining the service of an assistant-fully quali fied, of course. "And who knows," she pursued, clenching her argument, "if he is a nice young man, what may happen?" What did she mean? She meant a husband for Ethel, our Ethel, my eldest daughter; though the poor dear child was barely thirteen. But mothers are prescient and prevoyant beings; and, I verily believe, keep a look-out for possible husbands for them, when their daughters are babies in long clothes. Ha! yes; well, a man should never be ashamed of admitting that he takes his wife's advice. I generally do; but then mine is a pattern wife, as I have already hinted; the most sensible, perhaps, person of her sex, within the range of my acquaintance; and when she makes a suggestion, though I may, for form's sake, and to save my credit in her eyes (query, does it?), raise objections, I nearly always-in fact, I may say always--fall into her views; nor have I ever regretted having done so-no, not even in the present instance, notwithstanding all that has passed since that eventful day. I advertised in the "Lancet" for "A gentleman who--" but I must not use technical terms-a gentleman willing to assist me in the management of my busi--practice, I mean; and, good gracious me! what a motley crew of aspirants to the post replied! There were English, Scotch, Welsh, Irish, French (at least one Frenchman), and German (two). Some were old enough to be my father, others young enough to be my sons; some were gentlemen, and others not; some I found out to be incredibly ignorant of the duties they were expected to perform; while others displayed an amount of knowledge of the same that bewildered me. One poor fellow had travelled from a remote corner of the United Kingdom on the strength of my advertisement, turning up several days after I had been suited, and was dreadfully disappointed when he found that the situation was no longer vacant-a young lady, he said, having promised to marry him if he succeeded in obtaining the appointment. I had some difficulty in getting rid of him, but finally managed to get him out of the house by taking down his name and address and promising to write to him, in case the young gentleman I had engaged turned out unsatisfactory, of which contingency, by the way, I had not the remotest fear. Yes, I was suited, then; which brings me to the commencement of my story. As I was dismissing my bricklayer-I mean, this would-be assistant, whom at first I had mistaken for a layer of bricks who was one of my club-patients-my attention was drawn to a young man who was sitting on a bench, called the club-bench, in the passage, which in my house does duty for an entrance-hall. There was something about the young fellow that struck me at once; and, after scolding the page for not showing him into the waiting-room, I invited the stranger into the surgery, uncertain whether he was a patient or yet another aspirant. Shall I describe him? Perhaps I had better do so, for the reader will have doubtless already guessed who he was. I have said that I was struck by the young man's appearance, and that is true; very much struck, indeed, for there was an indescribable something about him that immediately commanded attention. It was quite evident he was no common man. While seated he looked an average height, but when he stood up, on my addressing him, I perceived that he was short, so short as barely to reach to my shoulder, and I am not by any means tall. I fear I cannot do him justice, but will try. He was well-dressed, quietly but well, and his admirably cut clothes sat easily on as perfectly symmetrical a figure as I had ever seen. A compact, well-proportioned head, covered with thick, curly, brown hair, surmounted a full, firm neck, which, in turn, crowned shoulders broad to the utmost extent compatible with his height; his waist was shapely, hips not too wide, his limbs exquisitely proportioned, and his hands and feet simply perfect. In a word, he thoroughly deserved the name, afterwards bestowed on him by my cousin, of "Apollo Belvidere in miniature." His face? Let me see a high white forehead; thick, perfectly arched eyebrows of the same colour as his hair; grey eyes, rather deeply set perhaps, but piercing in their liquid brightness; the longest lashes I have ever seen; straight nose; wide, but not too open, nostrils; mouth, a trifle large, perhaps, but disclosing, when he smiled, which was not seldom, two rows of teeth like ivory. I have been reminded that the tusk of the elephant is some. times rather yellow; but my young visitor's teeth were white as snow, or, rather, as cream-laid note paper of the finest make, and regular as-as-as clockwork, for want of a better simile. I forgot where I was; hem! yes; beautiful teeth, white and regular; mouth a trifle large, but chin round and dimpled; a small, blonde moustache just defined his upper lip, and imparted a degree of manliness to a face that otherwise would have been altogether feminine in its symnetrical beauty-of beard or whisker he had not a trace; his cheeks were as round and delicately tinted as a girl's ; the general shape of his face was oval, and his ears were small, and laid close to his head. An imperfect sketch, I am aware; but sufficient, I trust, to |