My Little LadyPoynter, E. Frances (Eleanor Frances)
General
My Little Lady
Poynter, E. Frances (Eleanor Frances)
Fiction
As for M. Linders, this little conversation left him alarmed,
perplexed, uneasy. What if, after all, this small being whom
he had proposed to identify, as it were, with himself, by
teaching her to see with his eyes, to apprehend with his
understanding, what if she were beginning to develop an
independent soul, to have thoughts, notions, ideas of her own,
perhaps, to look out into life with eager eyes that would
penetrate beyond the narrow horizon it had pleased him to fix
as her range of vision, to ask questions whose answers might
lead to awkward conclusions? For the moment it seemed to him
that his whole system of education, which had worked so well
hitherto, was beginning to totter, ready at any time, it might
be, to fall into ruins, leaving him and his child vainly
calling to each other across an ever-widening, impassable
gulf. Already he foresaw as possible results all that he had
most wished to avoid, and felt himself powerless to avert
them; for, however ready to alienate her from good influences,
and expose her to bad ones, he yet shrank from inculcating
falsehood and wrong by precept. With a boy it would have been
different, and he might have had little hesitation in bringing
him up, by both precept and example, in the way he was to go;
but with his little innocent woman-child--no, it was
impossible. She must be left to the silent and negative
teachings of surrounding influences, and in ignorance of all
others; and what if these should fail? Perhaps he over-
estimated the immediate danger, not taking sufficiently into
account the strength and loyalty of her affection for him;
but, on the other hand, he perhaps undervalued the depth and
force of those feelings to the consciousness of which she had
first been roused that day. "It shall not occur again, and in
time she will forget all about it," was his first conclusion.
His second was perhaps wiser in his generation, taking into
consideration a wider range of probabilities. "No," he
reflected, "there has been an error somewhere. I should have
accustomed Madelon to all these things, and then she would
have thought nothing of them. Well, that shall be remedied,
for she shall go to every church in Florence, and so get used
to them."
CHAPTER VI.
At Florence.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account