The Story of Valentine and His BrotherOliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
The Story of Valentine and His Brother
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Brothers -- Fiction
“An excellent scheme,” said Dr Bruce, the parish minister, turning to
accompany them, with all that sober pleasure in something new which
moves the inhabitants of a tranquil rural district in favour of such
gentle revolutions as do not affect their own habits or comforts; and
the three gentlemen spent an agreeable half-hour pacing and measuring
the allotments. While they were thus engaged, Lady Eskside drove past
with Val on the coach-box, making believe to drive. “There is my lady
with her boy,” said Lord Eskside, waving his hand to them as they
passed; but he thought he saw an incredulous smile upon the face of the
minister, which took away from him all pleasure in the feus.
My lady worked while my lord thus allowed himself to be overcast by
every doubtful look. Strong in her moral certainty, she took every means
which lay in her power to spread the same conviction far and wide; and
as she worked very hard at this undertaking, she had a right to the
success, which she enjoyed thoroughly. Her chief work, however, was with
the child himself--the strange little unknown being unable to express
all the wonderments that were in him at his change of lot, who was in
her hands as wax in some respects, while in others she could make but
little of him. Val had reconciled himself to the revolution in his fate
with wonderful facility. He was so young, that after a few fits of
violent weeping and crying for his mother and his brother, he had to all
appearance forgotten them; and being indulged in every whim, and petted
to the top of his bent, with abundant air, exercise, toys, and caresses,
had so adapted himself to his new position as to look familiar and at
ease in it before many weeks had passed. What vague recollections and
baby thoughts upon the subject might be in him, nobody knew; but as
childish recollections are in most cases carefully cultivated, and exist
by means of constant reminders, I suppose Val, deprived of such aids,
actually did forget much more readily than children usually do. Lady
Eskside devoted herself specially to his polish and social education, to
the amending of his manners and speech, and the imparting of those acts
of politeness which are the special inheritance of small gentlemen: and
she succeeded, to her own surprise, much more perfectly than she had
hoped to do. Val took to the teaching in which no books nor perplexing
printed symbols were involved, with perhaps a precocious sense of
humour, but certainly a readiness of apprehension which filled my lady
with joy. She taught him to bow, to open the door for her when she went
out or in, to listen, and to reply; and what was still more wonderful,
to sit still when circumstances demanded that painful amount of
self-restraint. “A little gentleman tries first of all to be pleasant to
other people,” said his instructress. “When you are out playing, you
shall please yourself, Val, and everybody will help you to enjoy
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