The Story of Valentine and His BrotherOliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
The Story of Valentine and His Brother
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Brothers -- Fiction
This was Violet’s incisive way of dealing with difficulties. She had all
the instincts of a grand inquisitor: and would have acted with the same
benevolent absorption in the grand object of doing good to her patient
whether he liked it or no. The pair drove at a spanking pace up the
pretty road among the budding trees, through which at intervals there
were glimpses of Esk brawling over his boulders, his brown impetuous
stream all flecked with foam, like a horse in full career. A sensation
of positive happiness was in Mr Pringle’s mind as he drove along the
familiar road through the country which he hoped might yet acknowledge
his influence and authority. He could not have kidnapped the little
offender as Violet suggested; but he was glad to think that there was
every chance he was an impostor, and the field clear for himself and his
heir. A lawsuit rose up before him in fullest dramatic detail, a kind of
thing very attractive to his professional imagination. He saw how much
more difficult it would be on the other side to prove the right of this
supposititious heir, than it would be on his to throw doubt upon him. I
do not think the thought ever crossed his mind that the child might not
be supposititious at all, but the real grandson of Lord Eskside. It is
so much easier when you are deeply interested in a subject to see your
own side of the question, and to believe that yours is the side of
right. In his sense of the possibilities of the case his spirits rose,
and he enjoyed his drive to the Hewan with his innocent little girl
beside him. Up they went, mounting the long slope, now letting the horse
walk at the steep parts, now urging him to a momentary spurt, now
rolling rapidly along on a shady level, with the branches almost meeting
overhead. The day was warm for April, yet the wind was fresh and
chilly, and blew in their faces with a keen and sweet freshness which
brought the colour to little Violet’s cheek. “Little Vi would change
into Little Rose up here on Eskside,” said Violet’s father--he had not
felt so light of heart for many a day.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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