The Story of Valentine and His BrotherOliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
The Story of Valentine and His Brother
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Brothers -- Fiction
Val’s, however, was the speech of the day. He rushed into it like a
young knight-errant, defying and conciliating the crowd in the same
breath, with his handsome head thrown back and his young face bright and
smiling. “He has no end of way on him,” Lord Hightowers said, who stood
by, an interested spectator--or rather, metaphorically, ran along the
bank, as he had done many a day while Val rowed triumphant races,
shouting and encouraging. Val undertook everything, promised everything,
with the confidence of his age. He gave a superb assurance to the
Radicals in the crowd that it should be the aim of his life to see that
the intelligence of the working classes, which had done so much for
Great Britain, should have full justice done to it; and to the
tenant-farmer on the other side, that the claims of the land, and those
who produced the bread of the country, should rank highly in his mind as
they ought always to do. The young man believed that everything could be
done that everybody wanted; that all classes and all the world could be
made happy;--what so easy? And he said so with the sublime confidence of
his age, promising all that was asked of him. When Mr Seisin’s
supporters and himself came after this youthful hero, it is
inconceivable what a downfall everybody felt. I am bound to add that Mr
Seisin’s speech read better than Val’s in the paper, and so did that of
his own proposer. But that mattered very little at the moment. Val
carried the crowd with him, even those of them who were a little
unwilling, and tried to resist the tide. The show of hands was
triumphantly in his favour. He was infinitely more Liberal than Mr
Seisin, and far more Tory than Sir John. He thought every wrong could be
redressed, and that every right must conquer: there was no compromise,
no moderation, in his triumphant address.
Lady Eskside and Mary made a progress down the High Street when the
gentlemen went to the committee rooms, and saw the Duchess and the
Dowager-Duchess, who were both most complimentary. These great ladies
had heard Val’s speech, or rather had seen it, being too far off to hear
very much, from their carriage, where they sat on the outskirts of the
crowd. “What fire, what vigour he has!” said the Dowager. “I
congratulate you, dear Lady Eskside; though how you could ever think
that boy like his father----”
“He is not much like your family at all, is he?” said the
Duchess-regnant, with a languid smile. This was the only sting Lady
Eskside received during all that glorious day. The old lord and the
young candidate joined them ere long, and their drive back was still
more delightful to the old couple than the coming. Lord Eskside,
however, growled and laughed and shook his head over Val’s speech.
“You’re very vague in your principles,” he said. “Luckily you have men
at your back that know what they are doing. You must not commit yourself
like that, my man, wherever you go, or you’ll soon get into a muddle.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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