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THE TREE OF PRIDE
9i
“You unmannerly jade!” cried the lady, “will
you make all this to-do while Her Highness is
dressing ? Off with you, and I will fasten the
crown myself.”
And she thrust her from the room and took
her place.
Suddenly the Princess looked up into the
glass, and saw, instead of her crown, the wreath
of half-opened flowers with their golden centres
glowing through her hair. She put up her hand
to tear the thing from her head ; but just as
she was going to do so, her lips trembled, and
she leaned, sobbing, against the table, her face
buried in her hands.
* * * * *
Great was the joy in the palace that night.
The Princess sat at her father’s side with a
strange look in her eyes, but her speech was
gentle and her voice soft. The lady-in-waiting
watched her, smiling. She had given the true
history of the wreath, and she wondered what
would happen.
*****
Before dawn next morning the Princess rose.
Without a word to anyone, she ordered her
horse to be brought, and, riding by the quietest
12—2
9i
“You unmannerly jade!” cried the lady, “will
you make all this to-do while Her Highness is
dressing ? Off with you, and I will fasten the
crown myself.”
And she thrust her from the room and took
her place.
Suddenly the Princess looked up into the
glass, and saw, instead of her crown, the wreath
of half-opened flowers with their golden centres
glowing through her hair. She put up her hand
to tear the thing from her head ; but just as
she was going to do so, her lips trembled, and
she leaned, sobbing, against the table, her face
buried in her hands.
* * * * *
Great was the joy in the palace that night.
The Princess sat at her father’s side with a
strange look in her eyes, but her speech was
gentle and her voice soft. The lady-in-waiting
watched her, smiling. She had given the true
history of the wreath, and she wondered what
would happen.
*****
Before dawn next morning the Princess rose.
Without a word to anyone, she ordered her
horse to be brought, and, riding by the quietest
12—2
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Images and transcriptions on this page, including medium image downloads, may be used under the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International Licence unless otherwise stated. 
| Works by selected Scottish authors > Violet Jacob > Stories told by the miller > (115) |
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| Permanent URL | https://digital.nls.uk/129136405 |
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| Description | By Violet Jacob. |
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| Shelfmark | U.38.g |
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| Attribution and copyright: |
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| Description | Violet Jacob (1863-1946) was born into an aristocratic family who had lived at the House of Dun near Montrose since the 15th century. Her classic novel of the 1745 Jacobite rising, 'Flemington” (1911), was highly regarded by John Buchan and is still in print. Jacob had a deep appreciation of the Angus dialect and countryside, and this is evident in her celebrated Scots language poetry in volumes such as 'Song of Angus' (1915). |
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| Description | A selection of classic out-of-copyright Scottish poetry, prose and children’s stories from the late 19th and early 20th centuries. |
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