Kirsteen: The Story of a Scotch Family Seventy Years AgoOliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
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Kirsteen: The Story of a Scotch Family Seventy Years Ago
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Domestic fiction; Scotland -- Fiction
“Who will bid me to grand parties?” said Kirsteen; but Miss Jean had
disappeared and did not hear. It gave Kirsteen a little pang to think
there was nobody who could interfere, no “grand connections” such as the
mantua-maker supposed, to call her to the world, a pang not so much for
herself as for the mortification involved in Miss Jean’s discovery of
the fact. As for grand parties Kirsteen had found out that they were a
delusion. The ball at the Castle had filled her with dreams of pleasure,
but yet nothing but harm had come of it. She had been neglected while
there, and received none of the homage which every girl is taught to
expect, and she had found only Glendochart, whose suit had cost her her
home and everything that had been dear. A tear stole to Kirsteen’s eye
as she made this reflection, but it never fell, so quickly did her heart
rise to the excitement of the novelty around her. She said to herself
that even if there was no Glendochart she would not now go back. She
would stay and work and make her fortune, and make Jeanie an heiress,
and get every dainty that London could provide to send to her mother.
She would buy a carriage for her mother, and easy couches and down
pillows and everything that heart could desire; and then when _he_ came
back--the tear rose again, but only to make brighter the triumphant
smile in Kirsteen’s eyes. Let the others go to grand parties if they
could (Mary would like it) but as for her, she would make her fortune,
and be a help to every one that bore her name. She knelt down by her
bedside to say her prayers, her heart so throbbing with purpose and
anticipation that she could scarcely go through these devout little
forms which had been the liturgy of her childhood. “Oh, that I may make
my fortune and help them all,” was the real petition of her heart. To
suggest anything so worldly to her Maker would have been blasphemy
according to the creed which Kirsteen had been taught, but this was the
breath of intense aspiration that carried up the little innocent
petitions. She rose from her knees in a thrill of purpose and feeling.
“They shall not be shamed as they think, they shall be thankful there
was Kirsteen among the lassies, as well as seven sons to make Drumcarro
great again. Oh, maybe not Drumcarro but the old Douglas country!”
Kirsteen said to herself. And so went down stairs glowing to see what
the new sphere was in which she was to conquer the world. And then when
_he_ came back!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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