E-Book, Englisch, Band 116, 328 Seiten
Reihe: Essential Novelists
Dixie / Nemo Essential Novelists - Florence Dixie
1. Auflage 2020
ISBN: 978-3-96858-743-1
Verlag: Tacet Books
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark
discussing the place of women in society
E-Book, Englisch, Band 116, 328 Seiten
Reihe: Essential Novelists
ISBN: 978-3-96858-743-1
Verlag: Tacet Books
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark
Lady Florence Caroline Dixie (25 May 1855 7 November 1905), was a Scottish traveller, war correspondent, writer and feminist. Her account of travelling Across Patagonia, her children's books The Young Castaways and Aniwee; or, The Warrior Queen, and her feminist utopia Gloriana; or, The Revolution of 1900 all deal with feminist themes related to girls, women, and their positions in society.
Autoren/Hrsg.
Weitere Infos & Material
TO
FRANCIS DOUGLAS,
THE BROTHER OF MY CHILDHOOD’S DREAMS,
I dedicate this, my first novel,
In memory of the bright and promising young life that was cut off at the early age of seventeen years. Killed on the hitherto unconquered Matterhorn
Friday, the 14th of July, 1865.
Where ether gilds the Alpine steeps
Beyond the verge whence mortals stray,
Calm on yon berg young Douglas sleeps,
Whence none may bear his corse away.
For monarch none had tomb so grand,
However potent was his sway,
No conq’ror led a nobler band
Than perished on that fatal day.
There stars will ever shed their light,
The sun will gild each rising morn.
His winding sheet — the glacier bright !
His monument — The Matterhorn !
Chapter 1
A BRIGHT blue sky, a gleaming, sultry day, with the mirage trembling above the purple moors and hills of a glorious Scottish scene. A winding river glinting in the sunshine, making its way in foaming eagerness over dark boulders of rugged rocks and stones, beautiful in its ever-changing form. In marked contrast to the rough and turbulent waters are the quiet pools into which the salmon glide, when weary of the strife outside those peaceful shelters. Here and there wooded heights, sloping downwards to the river’s edge, hang their luxuriant foliage over its dark cool waters, reflecting their emerald beauty in the glassy pools.
A scene of extreme beauty, yet withal a very lonely one ! So thought Oswald St. Maur as, sketch-book in hand, he settled himself in the shade of an over-hanging rock, and made preparations for committing it to paper. He was a young man struggling towards fame, an artist who depended on his pencil and brush for a livelihood, and at the time our story opens, engaged on a walking and sketching tour through the western highlands of Scotland.
He thought the scene a lonely one, bereft, as it apparently was, of any living form ; but he had not sketched long, when he became aware that he was not the only human being intruding on these solitudes. A shrill whistle, followed by a clear, ringing shout, made him look up, when he perceived a small party advancing across a heathery flat, that stretched away towards the moors beyond, on the opposite side of the river. The party consisted of a boy and girl, both carrying guns, two keepers, and a lad who, with a small luncheon basket slung across his shoulders, was with difficulty restraining two eager young Irish setters that he held coupled together. Two other setters were ranging to and fro, while a handsome black retriever followed close at one of the keeper's heels. At the sound of the whistle and accompanying shout, the ranging animals closed in on the little party, and came to heel behind the other keeper. Reaching the river's edge, the party came to a halt, and Oswald St. Maur lay down his pencil and sketch-book to watch them. The lad with the luncheon basket had unslung it, and, while one of the keepers unpacked the contents, the other, and apparently head one, laid out the game which two well-filled game bags contained, and which the girl and boy eagerly counted.
“Hurrah! we’ve made the twenty-five brace exactly; just what we said we would, Angus,” cried the boy, as he tossed his glengarry up in the air with delight.
”Yes; and without losing a single bird, thanks to your good nose, Dhu dear,” added the girl, as she patted and kissed on the nose the black retriever that stood gravely by her side, gently moving his tail to and fro.
“Your lordship and leddyship just shot weel the day,” said the keeper, as he knelt beside the birds and smoothed out their ruffled plumage, adding, “Ye just couldna ha’ shot better, an the burds so strong and wild too, my leddy.”
“Yes, they were wild for the twelfth, Angus,” replied the girl; “strange on such a lovely day, too. But come, Ronald, let us to lunch. I see Donald has got it all ready, and I’m dreadfully hungry. I wonder what Mrs. Stewart has sent us out.”
“You greedy girl,” laughed Ronald, as he turned towards the grassy bank on which Donald had spread out the luncheon. “Who was it told me that Mr. Disraeli said ‘he couldn’t abide a woman who was fond of eating’?”
“Well, I’m not a woman yet,” answered the girl, “but I hope I shall never lose my appetite, and, consequently, my health. I’m sorry Mr. Disraeli should have such a diseased fancy. What’s appetite but Nature, Ronald ?”
“Nothing else, Maeva, of course ; so let’s to lunch, and forget Mr. Disraeli’s fads. Have you and Donald and Patsy got your lunch all right, Angus ?” continued Ronald, turning to the head keeper.
“Yes, yes, my lord, we’ve a’ we want,” replied the man, “and we’ll just gang awa doon alangside the river and hae it there.”
“Very well, Angus ; but we mustn’t be too long, for I and Lady Maeva want to have a good afternoon at the grouse before going home.”
“And ye shall have it, my lord, and a gude ane, too,” answered Angus, as he hastened away to join Donald and Patsy by the river’s edge.
While the girl and boy are busy at their luncheon, let us take a nearer view of them. They are, apparently, much the same age, being respectively thirteen and fourteen years old. Ronald Dhu, Earl of Angus, is a very handsome boy, with a noble carriage and aristocratic bearing. His dark, curling hair clusters round a large white forehead of remarkable beauty, while a perfect wealth of eyelashes shelter eyes that a god might have envied, so large and lustrous and full of fire are they. He is dressed in the plain, undress costume of a Highlander, which becomes him well, and shows off to advantage his slim, graceful figure. Like her companion, the girl, too, has a noble bearing. Not exactly beautiful, her face is, nevertheless, extremely striking. There is a depth of thought and intelligence in her grey eyes peculiarly noticeable, while the ever-changing expression in her features keeps the eye fascinated and attracted. Masses of rich golden curls toss and play in bewildering confusion upon and around a forehead that, like the boy’s, is large, and white, and beautiful. Her dress is very simple. A short-kilted skirt of dark tartan reaching just below the knee, tartan stockings to match, a pair of strong brogues fastened by silver buckles, a silver-grey silken shirt, and a loose grey tweed shooting jacket and stalking cap. Such is the sporting attire of Ronald’s playmate, companion, earliest and best friend. Lady Maeva Doon, only child and heiress of Roderick Doon, twelfth Marquis of Ettrick.
They are a happy pair as they sit there in their golden youth with the sunshine playing upon them, thoughtless, for the time being, of the future, of the world and its cares, and of aught beyond the pleasures of that glorious day which they are evidently bent on enjoying to the fullest extent possible. Happy, too, in a companionship which the prim rules of fashion and society have not so far interfered with, or sought to mar with their punctilious and unnatural restrictions. For that girl and boy are sitting there on equal terms. So far their lives have moved in the same groove. No distinction has been made between them. In all matters appertaining to their education, pleasures, pastimes, and pursuits, they have been treated alike. It is a wise hand and far-seeing mind that has hitherto guided those children’s lives. The result is apparent in their whole appearance and manners. The ruddy glow of health on their cheeks tells of strong frames that have not been pampered and coddled, but that have been allowed the invigorating influence of Nature’s care, while their whole conversation, as they lie side by side enjoying their substantial though simple lunch, evinces an intelligence and independence of thought that does not ill-become them, though unusual in children of their age.
And it is but natural that they should be fast friends, that boy and girl. Around their lives there hangs a halo of romance, which it may be as well to glance at ere proceeding further. It is a retrospect, but necessary for the elucidation of this book’s tale.
Chapter 2.
DONALD’S grandfather, afterwards seventh earl, had made at school the friendship of a boy much his own age, young Malcolm Stuart of Abercrombie. This boyish friendship, ripening as years went on, developed into the firm and lasting attachment of a life. The two friends were inseparable. They entered the army together, fought side by side at Waterloo ; both were wounded, and both gained distinction and laurels. Later on, when Lord Angus, hitherto known as Lord Dhuvale, succeeded to his ancestral estates, the two left the army, and started on a voyage of adventure round the world. After two years’ absence, during which they had made acquaintance with all kinds and manners of strange countries and men, Malcolm Stuart received news of the death of his father, which forced him to hurry homewards accompanied by his friend. On arrival in Great Britain they at once proceeded direct to Leven Towers, one of the beautiful seats of the Stuart family, where they found Lady Madeline Stuart alone in her widowhood. The meeting between mother and son was a sad one, the husband and father who had passed away being dearly beloved by both. It was decided that Lady Madeline should leave Leven Towers for a time, and take up her abode at Abercrombie Castle with her son, for two reasons. First, that Leven Towers was too much associated with the beloved dead one ; and secondly, that...
