Norman Vallery; or, How to Overcome Evil with Good

"Are they really coming to-morrow, granny?" exclaimed Fanny Vallery, a fair, blue-eyed, sweet-looking girl, as she gazed eagerly at the face of Mrs Leslie, who was seated in an arm-chair, near the drawing-room window. "Oh, how I long to see papa, and mamma, and dear little Norman! I have thought, and thought so much about them; and India is so far off it seemed as if they would never reach England."

"Your mamma writes me word from Paris that they hope to cross the Channel to-night, and be here early in the afternoon," answered Mrs Leslie, looking at the open letter which she held in her hand. "I too long to see your dear mamma; and had it not been for you, my own darling, I should have missed her even more than I have done; but you have ever been a good, obedient, loving child, and my greatest comfort during her absence."

Mrs Leslie, as she spoke, drew her grandchild towards her, and kissed her brow.

Fanny said nothing, but, pressing the hand which held hers, turned her eyes towards her grandmamma's face, while the consciousness that the praise was not wrongly bestowed, caused a bright gleam of pleasure to pass over her countenance.

Mrs Leslie, who had brought up Fanny from her infancy, lived in a pretty villa a few miles from London, surrounded by shrubberies, with a lawn and beautifully-kept flower-garden in front. On one side was a poultry-yard, over which Fanny presided as the reigning sovereign; and even Trusty, the spaniel, who considered himself if not the ruler at all events the guardian of the rest of the premises, when he ventured into her domain always followed humbly at her heels, never presuming to interfere with her feathered subjects. More than once he had been known to turn tail and fly as if for his life when Phoebe, the bantam hen, with extended neck and outspread wings had run after him, as he had by chance approached nearer to her brood of fledglings than she had approved of.

Fanny with her fowls, Trusty, and Kitty, the tortoiseshell cat; and her doll, which had a house of its own fitted with furniture; and, more than all, with the consciousness of her granny's affection, considered herself one of the happiest little girls in existence. Everybody in the house, indeed, loved her; and she was kind, and gentle, and loving to every one in return.

Her mamma--Mrs Leslie's only daughter--had married Captain Vallery, an officer in the Indian army, while he was at home on leave, and had accompanied him to the East. She returned three or four years afterwards, in consequence of ill health, bringing with her little Fanny, who, when she went back to her husband, was left under charge of her mother, Mrs Leslie.

Great as was Mrs Vallery's grief at parting from her child, she well knew, from her own experience, with what wise and loving care she would be brought up.

Captain Vallery was of a French Protestant family, but having been partly educated in England, and having English relations, he had entered the British army. He was considered an honourable and brave officer, and was a very kind husband, but Mrs Vallery discovered that he had certain peculiar notions which were not likely to make him bring up his children as she would desire. One of his notions was, that boys especially, in order to develop their character, as he said, should always be allowed to have their own way.

"But, my dear husband," she pleaded, "suppose that way should prove to be a bad way, what then will be the consequence?"

"Oh, but our little Norman is a perfect cherub, surely he can have nothing bad about him, and I must insist that no one curbs his fine and noble temper, lest his young spirit should be broken and irretrievably ruined," answered Captain Vallery. "I say, let the boy have his own way, and you will see what a fine fellow he will become."

Mrs Vallery sighed--she knew that it would be useless to contend with her husband, though she feared, should his plan be persevered in, it would entail many a severe trial on her boy in future years.

Of this Mrs Leslie had some suspicions, though Fanny, who had pictured her little brother as all she could wish him to be, looked forward with unmitigated pleasure to having him as her companion.

With eager interest she assisted Susan, the housemaid, in preparing the rooms for the expected guests; for she was a notable little woman, and she had been encouraged by her grandmamma to busy herself in household matters. She with much taste arranged the bouquets in the vases on her mamma's dressing-table, and then she went into the little room next her own, in which Norman was to sleep, and placed some flowers in that also, as well as three or four of her prettiest picture-books, which she had carefully preserved, thinking that they might amuse him. Gently, too, she smoothed down his pillow, and, after everything was in order, went back delighted to make her report to granny.

How her heart beat when a carriage drove up to the door, with a gentleman and lady in it, whom she knew must be her papa and mamma, while on the coach box was seated a young boy. "What a fine, noble, little fellow he is," she thought to herself, as the boy scrambled down without waiting for the assistance of any one.

The next instant she scarcely knew what was happening--every one seemed so full of confused delight. She felt that she was in her mother's arms, who, still holding her, threw herself into those of granny. Then her papa, a fine, handsome gentleman, took her up and kissed her again and again; and next, she saw the little boy who had come in with a whip in his hand; she sprang towards him exclaiming, "You are Norman!" and, following the impulse of heart, covered his face with kisses.

"Yes, that's my name," answered the boy, "and you are the sister Fanny I was told I should see; and is that old woman there granny? Will she want to kiss me as you have done? I hope she won't, for I do not choose to be treated as a baby."

Happily Mrs Leslie did not hear these remarks; they grieved Fanny sorely.

"Oh but dear granny will love you as she does me, and you must come to her as I am sure she wants to see you," she whispered gently. "Then you shall go out with me, and I will show you my poultry and Trusty and all sorts of things, which I am sure you will like."

"Come along then," said Norman, "I shall like to see the things you talk of."

"Not surely till you have spoken to granny, but afterwards I will gladly take you," said Fanny, and she led him up to Mrs Leslie.

Though his grandmamma kissed him several times, he behaved better than might have been expected, restraining for a wonder his impatience, somewhat awed perhaps by the dignified manner of the old lady.

"And now, Fanny, I am ready to see what you have got to show me," he exclaimed, as Mrs Leslie taking her daughter's arm led her into the drawing-room.

Captain Vallery cast a proud glance at his two beautiful children as hand in hand they ran upstairs.

"Here is my doll's house," said Fanny, as she led Norman into her neat bed-chamber; "see, it has a drawing-room, with sofas and chairs and looking-glasses, and a dining-room, with a long table and plates and dishes and knives and forks on it; and this is the kitchen, with its stove and pots and pans; and here is the bedroom, where little Nancy sleeps. She is a dear good child, and never cries, but as I have had her for a long time, she is not as pretty as she used to be. I tell granny that she was a poor neglected little orphan, and that she came begging at the door one day, and as she had no one to look after her, I took her in, and that is the reason she has so many knocks and bruises."

Fanny, as she spoke, drew out a small doll, dressed in a cotton frock, from the doll's house, and held it up to Norman.

"It does look just like a wretched beggar child," he observed; "I wonder you can care for such a thing. If I were you I should throw it out of the window, and tell papa he must get another much prettier, dressed like a fine lady, who would be fit to walk out with you, and you need not be ashamed of, as I should think you must be of Nancy, as you call her."

"Oh, but I love Nancy very much," said Fanny; "she and I have known each other very many years, and I would not throw her away on any account. If I ever get a finer doll, I can let Nancy attend on her, I am sure she will be very glad to do that, for she is not a bit proud, and wishes, I am sure, to be a good girl and please everybody."

"You may think more of her than I do," remarked Norman, "and now, as I am not a baby, and do not care about dolls, won't you show me some of the other things you talk of?"

"Oh yes!" said Fanny, "I will take you to my poultry-yard, but I must carry Nancy with me as she has not been out all day, and she will like to see me feed my hens. They are all very fond of me, and I hope they will learn to know you, Norman, too, and come when you call them, and eat out of your hand, as they do out of mine, especially Thisbe, who is the tamest of all, and the fondest of me."

"I do not know that I care about cocks and hens and those sort of creatures, but I will go with you," answered Norman, tucking his whip under his arm and accompanying Fanny.

"O Miss Fanny," said Susan, whom they met on the way with a china vase in her hand, "your grandmamma says that your papa is fond of flowers, and that we ought to have put some on the mantelpiece of his dressing-room. Will you come and help me to pick them, and will you arrange them, as you can do so beautifully?"