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
The excitement about Flora
MacIvor and the gentle Rose, and the keen disappointment of Flora’s
partisans who had all along hoped against hope that she would relent,
kept drowsiness at bay. This was not the chief point of interest in the
book perhaps, but those young women regarded it from that point of view.
I tell this chiefly as an illustration of the manner in which Miss Brown
and Kirsteen managed their affairs. But as a matter of fact Miss Jean
often read aloud when there was no such urgent call for it. She read the
newspapers to the girls when there was any news of interest. She had
read to them everything about Waterloo, and all the despatches and the
descriptions of the field, and anecdotes about the battle, as they came
out bit by bit in the small square newspaper of eight pages, which was
all that then represented the mighty _Times_. One of the young women
lost a brother in that battle. This made the little community feel that
all had something special to do with it, and brought tears into every
eye, and justified them in shaking all their heads over the cost of
blood by which the great victory had been achieved, even in the midst of
their enjoyment of the illuminations and all the stir and quickened life
of town at that great moment.
It was long after Waterloo, however, when the incident I am about to
record occurred. Years had passed, and the newspapers were no longer so
exciting as in those days of the Peninsula, when a fight or a victory
might be always looked for. War died out from among the items of news,
and the long calm, which ended only after the Great Exhibition of 1851
had made as people thought an end of all possibility of fighting, had
begun--people had ceased to be afraid of the newspaper, and the tidings
it might bring. It is true there was always fighting going on in India
more or less, little battles now and then, skirmishes, expeditions of
which the world did not know very much, but in which, without any
demonstration, a few brave lives would end from time to time, and hearts
break quietly at home, all to the increase and consideration of our
great Indian territory, and the greatness of Great Britain in that
empire upon which the sun never sets.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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