A Life for a Life, Volume 1 (of 3)Craik, Dinah Maria Mulock
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A Life for a Life, Volume 1 (of 3)
Craik, Dinah Maria Mulock
Fiction
Pursuing my hobby of anatomising character, I studied her a good deal
during the pauses of conversation, of which there were not a few.
Compared with Treherne, whom I heard in advance, laughing and talking
with his usual light-heartedness, she must have found me uncommonly
sombre and dull.
Yet it was pleasant to be strolling leisurely along, one's feet dropping
softly down through rustling dead leaves into the dry, sandy mould which
is peculiar to this neighbourhood: you may walk in it, ancle-deep,
for miles, across moors and under pine-woods, without soiling a shoe.
Pleasant to see the sunshine striking the boughs of the trees, and lying
in broad, bright rifts on the ground here and there, wherever there was
an opening in the dense green tops of those fine Scotch firs, the like
of which I have never beheld out of my own country, nor there since
I was quite a boy. Also, the absence of other forest trees, the high
elevation, the wide spaces of moorland, and the sandy soil, give to the
atmosphere here a rarity and freshness which exhilarates, mentally and
bodily, in no small degree.
I thank God I have never lost my love of nature; never ceased to feel an
almost boyish thrill of delight in the mere sunshine and fresh air.
For miles I could have walked on, thus luxuriating, without wishing
to disturb my enjoyment by a word, but it was necessary to converse
a little, so I made the valuable and original remark "that this
neighbourhood would be very pretty in the spring."
My companion replied with a vivacity of indignation most unlike a grown
young lady, and exceedingly like a child:--
"Pretty? It is beautiful! You never can have seen it, I am sure."
I said, "My regiment did not come home till May: I had spent this spring
in the Crimea."
"Ah! the spring flowers there, I have heard, are remarkably beautiful,
much more so than ours."
"Yes;" and as she seemed fond of flowers, I told her of the great
abundance which in the peaceful spring that followed the war, we had
noticed, carpeting with a mass of colour those dreary plains; the
large Crimean snow-drops, the jonquils, and blue hyacinths, growing in
myriads, about Balaklava and on the banks of the Tchernaya; while on
every rocky dingle, and dipping into every tiny brook, hung bushes of
the delicate yellow jasmine.
"How lovely! But I would not exchange England for it. You should see how
the primroses grew all along that bank, and a little beyond, outside the
wood, is a hedge side, which will be one mass of blue-bells."
"I shall look for them. I have often found blue-bells till the end of
October."
"Nonsense!" What a laugh it was, with such a merry ring. "I beg your
pardon, Doctor Urquhart, but, really, blue-bells in October! Who ever
heard of such a thing?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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