Country life -- Fiction; Domestic fiction; Mothers and daughters -- Fiction; Scotland -- Fiction
"It's odd how things come about," said Mrs. Douglas, as she put the
last of the text-books on the pile, and took off the large, round-eyed
tortoise-shell spectacles that she wore when doing her "reading." "Dr.
Watts, our own minister, was ordered to the South of France for the
winter, and your father, who had just finished with college, came to
take his place. We were used to fine ministers in Etterick. Dr. Watts
was a saint and a scholar, and the parish minister was one of God's
most faithful servants--both were men of dignity and power. But your
father was so young and ardent; he went through the district like a
flame. He held meetings in lonely glens where no meeting had ever been
held before. He kindled zeal in quiet people who had been content to
let things go on as they had always gone; it was a wonderful six
months. Your Aunt Agatha, who, being older, had left school before I
did, wrote to tell me of this extraordinary young man; indeed, her
letters were so full of him that I made up my mind to dislike him at
sight. And after I did meet him I pretended to myself and to Agatha
that I thought him a very tiresome young man. I mimicked the way he
sang hymns and his boyish, off-hand manner, so unlike Dr. Watts' grave,
aloof ways. I wish I had words, Ann, to give you some idea of the man
your father was in his youth. As he grew older he grew not less
earnest, but more tolerant--mellower, perhaps, is the word. As a young
man he was like a sword-blade, pure and keen. And yet he was such a
boy with it all, or I never would have dared to marry him. I had
absolutely no training for a minister's wife, but I went into it quite
blithely. Now, looking back, I wonder at myself. At the time I was
like the little boy marching bravely into a dark room, his bigger
brother explaining the phenomena with 'He hasna the sense to be feart.'"
"There's a lot in that," said Ann. "But think what a loss to the world
if you had remained a spinster--it hardly bears thinking of! Well, we
haven't got very far to-night. To-morrow you must tell me all about
the wedding. I know Alison would like to hear about the tiny, white,
kid lacing shoes with pale blue rosettes that I used to look at in a
drawer. I believe they finished up in a jumble sale."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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