Harold’s Bride
“Then He did hear me!”
T. Nelson and Sons
London, Edinburgh, and New York
Preface.
Many years ago a huge panorama of a vast extent of country was exhibited in London. Of what country it was memory retains no clear impression; but I recollect a remark made by the exhibiting artist. Referring to the tints of some hills pictured in the panorama, he observed, “They ought to be natural, for I took my materials from the hills themselves.”
The artist’s remark had slight weight, for the fact that he had used pigments taken from the actual soil was no warrant for the accuracy of his delineation; but I am reminded of that remark by the circumstances under which the following tale has been written. It was not penned in some study in London, nor in some rural home in an English county; the authoress was living, as it were, surrounded by the materials needed for her picture. The old missionary came in heated and tired from the daily round in zenanas to dip her pen and write of a zenana. The materials for her touches of natural history lay, as it were, at her elbow. She might feelingly picture little inconveniences which she herself had experienced.