England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Guardian and ward -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction
The other thing, I remember, is that I had in some measure seized on the
power it had pleased Cornelius to relinquish. My will was more powerful
over him, than his over me. I did not seek for it; but thus it was. It is
almost ever so in human affections: perfect equality between two seldom
exists; the sway yielded up by one is immediately and instinctively
assumed by the other. With the least exertion of his will, Cornelius
could again have converted me into a submissive and obedient child; but
to govern always requires a certain amount of indifference; and he seemed
to have lost both the power and the wish to rule. I should not have been
human if I had not taken some advantage of this. I loved him as dearly as
ever; but, secure of his fondness and affection, 1 did not, as once, make
his pleasure my sole law. I also remembered that we had a few
differences; mere trifles they then seemed to me, and Kate herself made
light of them.
"Don't fidget," she invariably said to her brother; "she's but a child."
"A child!" he once replied, with a sigh; "you should hear her
philosophize with me!"
"Well, then, she's a philosophical child."
"I don't know what she is," he answered, giving me a reproachful look. "I
sometimes think Providence sent her to me as a chastisement for my sins."
"Poor sinner!" said Kate, smiling, "what a penance!"
We were all three sitting in the parlour by the fireside. I pretended to
be much concerned, and hid my face in the sofa-pillow. Cornelius gently
entreated me not to take it so much to heart, assured me I was no
penance, but the joy of his life, and the light of his eyes; made me look
up, and saw me laughing at him again.
"There," he said, biting his lip and looking provoked, "do you see her,
Kate?"
"She is young and merry. Let her laugh."
"But why will she not be serious? Why will she be so provokingly flighty
and slippery?"
"Nonsense!" interrupted Kate. "Let her be what she likes now; she'll be
grave enough a few years hence."
He sighed, and called me his perverse darling. I laughed again, and bade
him sing me an Irish song. He obeyed, and thus it ended.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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