A Knight of the Nineteenth CenturyRoe, Edward Payson
General
A Knight of the Nineteenth Century
Roe, Edward Payson
Fiction
Laura had a strong affection for her aunt, and would naturally be
inclined to gratify any wishes that she might express, even had they
involved tasks uncongenial and unattractive. But the proposal that she
should become an ally in the effort to lure young Haldane from his evil
associations, and awaken within him pure and refined tastes, was
decidedly attractive. She was peculiarly romantic in her disposition,
and no rude contact with the commonplace, common-sense world had
chastened her innocent fancies by harsh and disagreeable experience. Her
Christian training and girlish simplicity lifted her above the ordinary
romanticism of imagining herself the heroine in every instance, and the
object and end of all masculine aspirations. On this occasion she simply
desired to act the part of a humble assistant of Mrs. Arnot, whom she
regarded as Haldane's good angel; and she was quite as disinterested in
her hope for the young man's moral improvement as her aunt herself.
The task, moreover, was doubly pleasing since she could perform it in a
way that was so womanly and agreeable. She could scarcely have given
Haldane a plain talk on the evils of fast living to save her life, but
if she could keep young men from going to destruction by smiling upon
them, by games of backgammon and by music, she felt in the mood to be a
missionary all her life, especially if she could have so safe and
attractive a field of labor as her aunt's back parlor.
But the poor child would soon learn that perverse human nature is much
the same in a drawing-room and a tenement-house, and that all who seek
to improve it are doomed to meet much that is excessively annoying and
discouraging.
The simple-hearted girl no more foresaw what might result from her
smiles than an ignorant child would anticipate the consequences of fire
falling on grains of harmless-looking black sand. She had never seen
passion kindling and flaming till it seemed like a scorching fire, and
had not learned by experience that in some circumstances her smiles
might be like incendiary sparks to powder.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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