The Flower of the Flock, Volume 3 (of 3)Egan, Pierce
General
The Flower of the Flock, Volume 3 (of 3)
Egan, Pierce
Fiction
Her hand alone could smooth and arrange his pillow to his satisfaction.
She was never impatient under the caprices of his temper or his
ever-varying whims. She moved always with such alacrity--so light of
foot when requested to do anything for him. She submitted so gently and
patiently to his querulous testiness, and bore his peevish remarks, as
she had throughout executed the task allotted to her, without a cloud
upon her brow or a ruffle on her equanimity. “Of course,” cry the
selfish, shrugging their shoulders, “such conduct was eminently politic;
she had a deep game to play, and had the shrewdness as well as the
ability to understand the part assigned to her, and to perform it well.”
But “far-seeing” people are not always correct in their assumptions, and
in jumping to a conclusion sometimes arrive only at the mire of their
own ungenerous instincts; being as far from the truth as they are from
the possession of tenderness of heart or magnanimity of soul.
The policy of such conduct formed no element in Lotte’s demeanour or
action; it was in fact the result of her organisation, having undertaken
such a duty, to so fulfil it.
Mr. Wilton, now rapidly approaching a state of convalescence, began, to
weary of his chamber, and to long to inhale the fresh air without his
stately dwelling. He sketched out to Lotte walks upon the terrace, and
of the pleasure he should enjoy in again being enabled to take them, and
how much that pleasure would be enhanced by her favouring him with the
support of her kind arm. He promised to enlighten her upon many subjects
of science and art, of which she knew nothing, and he promised himself
also the pleasure of listening to her simple but always pertinent and
sensible remarks.
Flora, too, had recovered her strength and her spirits. Communion with
Lotte had toned down the perturbation of her mind, and rendered her far
more contented and hopeful than she had been for some time past.
Poor Lotte! her own heart-canker exhibited no sign. The acute agony of
her own thoughts was never suffered to display any influence upon her
actions or manner in the presence of others; it was only when alone,
and offering up her prayers to Heaven for strength to sustain her in
the performance of her duty to others, no less than to herself, that
the convulsions of a poignant sorrow bore down all opposition, and
prostrated her.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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