Grace Darling, Heroine of the Farne IslandsFarningham, Marianne
History
Grace Darling, Heroine of the Farne Islands
Farningham, Marianne
Darling, Grace, 1815-1842; Women heroes -- England -- Northumberland -- Biography
But Grace sighed as she said it, even to herself. In thus judging,
however, she did him great injustice; for a closer observer might have
seen that his spirits were forced, and his gaiety assumed. He did
feel, and most acutely; but he was a manly young fellow, and did not
intend his heart to be broken by any girl. Therefore, not seeing that
his affections were reciprocated, he determined, with a decision of
character that was peculiar to him, to overcome the feelings that could
only be productive of pain. He was resolved, too, that he would
conceal from her the fact that he was affected by her indifference. He
could not quite do as he wished, however, for he was too honest to be a
good dissembler, and his voice faltered, and his hand trembled, as he
uttered a hurried good-bye. His emotions imparted the most painful
regret to Grace, whose eyes filled with tears when she turned to bid
farewell to the rest. They--Ellen, Mary, and Henry, went down to the
water, and there affectionately parted from their friend. Long after
the boat had left the shore, she saw them watching its progress over
the waves. But though she looked eagerly for George, she could not see
him. Immediately after uttering his adieus he hastily disappeared; and
though she would like to have had one more look, it was not to be.
That Grace was disappointed was evident from the deep sigh that escaped
her; but like a sensible girl, she turned her thoughts away from this
painful subject to the home-love that was waiting for her.
"I think, father," said she, "that our home on the Longstone rock, is
the very best and loveliest that any one could have; and that I should
be quite content to stay in it always."
"I am glad you feel so, Grace, for we do not want to lose you," said
her father, fondly.
Assuredly that bright little island, which lay like a gem in the midst
of the sunny ocean, was an object which was calculated to awaken
admiration in a less partial and enthusiastic mind than that of Grace
Darling. The laughing waves were flowing with a soft and tranquil
motion, and gently laving the pebbly shore. Sea-birds were skimming
the waves, their graceful plumage gilded by the setting sun, and ever
and anon darting beneath the waters. The sky was serene and beautiful,
tinged with the rich and glorious hues of a summer's evening; and the
orb of light was retiring to rest, reflecting a bright and splendid
halo around him.
The feelings of Grace became so animated and joyous as she neared home,
that it was with difficulty that she could keep her seat. When at last
she reached the shore, she bounded up the ragged pathway with a light
step, and was soon within the well-known walls. She had never before
thought her home looked so bright and cheerful; so true is it that
there is a charm about the place where we dwell with our own kindred,
however humble, which is never experienced anywhere else, even among
the most beautiful and picturesque scenery.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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