My Little LadyPoynter, E. Frances (Eleanor Frances)
General
My Little Lady
Poynter, E. Frances (Eleanor Frances)
Fiction
Madelon, sitting forward on her chair, her chin propped on her
hands, her embroidery lying in her lap, saw and heeded none of
these things; her eyes were fixed dreamily on the sky, but her
thoughts were by no means dreamy, very intent rather upon one
idea which she was endeavouring to rescue from the region of
dreams and vagueness, and set before her with a distinctness
that should ensure a practical result. This idea, which indeed
was no new one, but simply that of running away from the
convent, which had first occurred to her three weeks before,
had presented itself with more assurance to her mind during
every day of her convalescence; and now that she was nearly
well again, it was fast becoming an unalterable resolution.
There were difficulties in the way--she was considering them
now--but she knew she should be able to overcome them; we say
advisedly; she _knew_ it, for the child already recognized in
herself an unwavering strength of mind and purpose, which
assured her that no foreseen obstacles could stand between her
and any fixed end that she proposed to herself; as for
unforeseen ones--our small-experienced Madelon did not take
them into account at all.
It was not that she was a prodigy compounded of nothing but
firmness, and resolution, and obstinacy, this little slender
girl, who sat there in the evening sunlight, puzzling out her
plan; there were plenty of weak points in her character, which
would perhaps make themselves sufficiently apparent in years
to come. But these at least she possessed--a persistency of
purpose in whatever she undertook, on which she could
confidently rely, and a certain courage and independence that
promised to carry her successfully through all difficulties;
and these things are, I think, as the charmed cakes that the
Princess carried to the enchanted castle, and wherewith she
tamed the great lions that tried to oppose her entrance.
Madelon sees before her a very fair enchanted castle, lying
outside these convent walls--even something like a Prince to
rescue--and she will not fail to provide herself with such
charms as lie within her reach, to appease any possible
menagerie that may be lying between her and it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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