" And, when the snow melted and the buds returned, the ivy
spray, the smiling saxifrage, the purple gentian bell, the feathery
rowan leaf, the symmetrical lady's mantle, were hailed and loved
first as models, then for themselves.
One regret their mother had, almost amounting to shame. Every
virtuous person believed in the efficacy of the rod, and, maugre her
own docility, she had been chastised with it almost as a religious
duty; but her sons had never felt the weight of a blow, except once
when their grandmother caught them carving a border of eagles and
doves round the hall table, and then Ebbo had returned the blow with
all his might. As to herself, if she ever worked herself up to
attempt chastisement, the Baroness was sure to fall upon her for
insulting the noble birth of her sons, and thus gave them a triumph
far worse for them than impunity. In truth, the boys had their own
way, or rather the Baron had his way, and his way was Baron
Friedmund's. Poor, bare, and scanty as were all the surroundings of
their life, everything was done to feed their arrogance, with only
one influence to counteract their education in pride and violence--a
mother's influence, indeed, but her authority was studiously taken
from her, and her position set at naught, with no power save what she
might derive from their love and involuntary honour, and the sight of
the pain caused her by their wrong-doings.
Pages:
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225