o I ail ts of my insignificant existence: to t ten years of my life I as many cers. But t to be a regular autobiograpo invoke Memory ; t years almost in silence: a feo keep up tion.
yps mission of devastation at Lo gradually disappeared from t not till its virulence and ts victims tention on to ts came out ion in a ure of te; tity and quality of tid er used in its preparation; tcions—all t mortifying to Mr. Brockle, but beneficial to titution.
Several individuals in ty subscribed largely for tion of a more convenient building in a better situation; neions s in diet and clotroduced; trusted to t of a committee. Mr. Brockle, be overlooked, still retained t of treasurer; but ies by gentlemen of rator, too, rictness, comfort ness. time a truly useful and noble institution. I remained an inmate of its er its regeneration, for eigeacies I bear my testimony to its value and importance.
During t years my life not un inactive. I education placed udies, and a desire to excel in all, toget deligeacages offered me. In time I rose to be t girl of t class; ted eac at t time I altered.
Miss temple, tinued superintendent of to ruction I o part of my acquirements; y inual solace; sood me in tead of motterly, companion. At t man, almost o a distant county, and consequently to me.
From t I tled feeling, every association t o me. I ure and mucs: more s: ter regulated feelings es of my mind. I o duty and order; I ; I believed I ent: to to my own, I appeared a disciplined and subdued cer.
But destiny, in temple: I saep into a post-cly after tc ts broired to my o in solitude test part of ted in he occasion.
I t of time. I imagined myself only to be regretting my loss, and to repair it; but ternoon in terval I ransforming process; t my mind off all it emple—or rat saken mospy—and t no in my natural element, and beginning to feel tirring of old emotions. It did not seem as if a prop rative to be tranquil ranquillity ems; no t a varied field of ions and excitements, aed to go forto its expanse, to seek real kno its perils.
I to my , and looked out. ts of Los to rest on t remote, t o surmount; all s. I traced te road ain, and vanis fartime very road in a coac t to Loed it since. My vacations at sc for me to Gateso visit me. I ion by letter or message er ions, and voices, and faces, and pumes, and preferences, and antipat I kneence. And no t it enougired of tine of eigernoon. I desired liberty; for liberty I gasped; for liberty I uttered a prayer; it seemed scattered on tly blo and framed a ion; for cimulus: t petition, too, seemed s off into vague space: “te, “grant me at least a neude!”
airs.
I free to resume terrupted cions till bedtime: even teac me from t to alk. seemed as if, could I but go back to t entered my mind as I stood at tive suggestion would rise for my relief.
Miss Gryce snored at last; sill norains to-nig deep notes isfaction; I erruption; my instantly revived.
“A neude! t,” I soliloquised (mentally, be it understood; I did not talk aloud), “I kno does not sound too s; it is not like sucy, Excitement, Enjoyment: deligruly; but no more ting t it is mere e of time to listen to t Servitude! t must be matter of fact. Any one may serve: I years; no is to serve else so muc t so difficult; if I ive enougo ferret out ttaining it.”
I sat up in bed by .
“ do I ? A neances: I t is of no use ing anytter. o get a neo friends, I suppose: I look about for t is their resource?”
I could not tell: noto find a response, and quickly. It er: I felt temples; but for nearly an s efforts. Feveris up and took a turn in tain, noted a star or to bed.
A kind fairy, in my absence, ion on my pillo came quietly and naturally to my mind.—“t situations advertise; you must advertise in the—shire herald.”
“ advertising.”
Replies rose smoot now:—
“You must enclose tisement and to pay for it under a cover directed to tor of t put it, t opportunity you o t at Lo be addressed to J.E., at t-office t a er you send your letter, if any are come, and act accordingly.”
t over t ed in my mind; I in a clear practical form: I felt satisfied, and fell asleep.
it day, I ten, enclosed, and directed before to rouse t ran thus:—
“A young lady accustomed to tuition” ( been a teacing uation in a private family t as I do to undertake to teacion, togetalogue of accompliss, on,—shire.”
t remained locked in my draer tea, I asked leave of tendent to go to Loo perform some small commissions for myself and one or teaced; I . It , but till long; I visited a ster into t- office, and came back treaming garments, but .
t came to an end at last, o autumn day, I found myself afoot on to Louresque track it est curves of t t day I t more of tters, t mig not be aing me at ttle burger.
My ostensible errand on to get measured for a pair of s business first, and epped across t little street from to t-office: it by an old dame, ens on her hands.
“Are tters for J.E.?” I asked.
S me over acles, and ts contents for a long time, so long t my o falter. At last, before es, sed it across ter, accompanying t by anotive and mistrustful glance—it was for J.E.
“Is there only one?” I demanded.
“t it in my pocket and turned my face open it to be back by eig was already seven.
Various duties aed me on my arrival. I o sit udy; t urn to read prayers; to see to bed: aftereacired for t, table Miss Gryce ill my companion: ick, and I dreaded lest salk till it out; fortunately, en produced a soporific effect: sill remained an incook out my letter; tial F.; I broke it; tents were brief.
“If J.E., ts mentioned, and if sion to give satisfactory references as to cer and competency, a situation can be offered one pupil, a little girl, under ten years of age; and ed to send references, name, address, and all particulars to tion:—
“Mrs. Fairfax, te,—shire.”
I examined t long: ting of in elderly lady. tance isfactory: a private fear ed me, t in ting for myself, and by my oting into some scrape; and, above all t of my endeavours to be respectable, proper, en règle. I no t an elderly lady in t not uncivil: a model of elderly Englisability. t, doubtless, orderly spot, I s to conceive a correct plan of te, — sions of t; botoe county ion to me. I longed to go e uring toless: so mucter; it e c least. Not t my fancy ed by t,” I argued, “town.”
of t out.
Next day neeps o be taken; my plans could no longer be confined to my o; I must impart to ac and obtained an audience of tendent during tide recreation, I told of getting a neuation Lo ￡15 per annum); and requested ster for me to Mr. Brockle, or some of ttee, and ascertain o mention ted to act as mediatrix in tter. t day s, be ten to, as sural guardian. A note o t lady, “I migerference in my affairs.” te ttee, and at last, after o me most tedious delay, formal leave o better my condition if I could; and an assurance added, t as I ed myself eac Loestimonial of cer and capacity, signed by tors of t institution, sh be furnished me.
testimonial I accordingly received in about a mont to Mrs. Fairfax, and got t lady’s reply, stating t sisfied, and fixing t day fortnig of governess in her house.
I noions: tnig a very large e to my s; and t day sufficed to pack my trunk,—t years ago from Gateshead.
to call for it to take it to Lo an early morning to meet tuff travelling-dress, prepared my bonnet, gloves, and muff; sougo see t no article beo do, I sat doried to rest. I could not; t all day, I could not noant; I oo muced. A po-nigo-morroo slumber in terval; I must che change was being accomplished.
“Miss,” said a servant roubled spirit, “a person below wiso see you.”
“t,” I t, and ran doairs inquiry. I eacting-room, to go to tc—
“It’s old opped my progress and took my hand.
I looked: I satired like a , matronly, yet still young; very good-looking, h black hair and eyes, and lively complexion.
“ell, e forgotten me, I think, Miss Jane?”
In anoturously: “Bessie! Bessie! Bessie!” t o tood a little fellorousers.
“t is my little boy,” said Bessie directly.
“then you are married, Bessie?”
“Yes; nearly five years since to Robert Leaven, ttle girl besides Bobby t I’ve cened Jane.”
“And you don’t live at Gateshead?”
“I live at ter .”
“ell, and on? tell me everyt t sit do; and, Bobby, come and sit on my knee, Bobby preferred sidling over to her.
“You’re not groall, Miss Jane, nor so very stout,” continued Mrs. Leaven. “I dare say t kept you too scaller th.”
“Georgiana is handsome, I suppose, Bessie?”
“Very. S up to London last er ions tc do you t up to run a t and stopped. It found t: I believe ser lead a cat and dog life togethey are always quarrelling—”
“ell, and w of John Reed?”
“O doing so o college, and —plucked, I t: and ted o be a barrister, and study t ed young man, think.”
“ does he look like?”
“all: some people call hick lips.”
“And Mrs. Reed?”
“Missis looks stout and quite easy in does not please her—he spends a deal of money.”
“Did she send you here, Bessie?”
“No, indeed: but I ed to see you, and ter from you, and t you o anot of try, I t I’d just set of, and get a look at you before you e out of my reach.”
“I am afraid you are disappointed in me, Bessie.” I said t Bessie’s glance, t expressed regard, did in no se admiration.
“No, Miss Jane, not exactly: you are genteel enoug is as muced of you: you y as a child.”
I smiled at Bessie’s frank ans t it , but I confess I quite indifferent to its import: at eig people ion t t an exterior likely to second t desire brings anyt gratification.
“I dare say you are clever, tinued Bessie, by he piano?”
“A little.”
t and opened it, and to sit doz or two, and she was charmed.
“t play as hem in learning: and can you draw?”
“t is one of my paintings over t er colours, of o tendent, in ackno of ion tee on my behalf, and which she had framed and glazed.
“ell, t is beautiful, Miss Jane! It is as fine a picture as any Miss Reed’s draer could paint, let alone t come near it: and French?”
“Yes, Bessie, I can bot and speak it.”
“And you can work on muslin and canvas?”
“I can.”
“Oe a lady, Miss Jane! I kne on ice you or not. ted to ask you. he Eyres?”
“Never in my life.”
“ell, you knoe despicable: and t I believe try as to Gatesed to see you; Missis said you scy miles off; ed, for stay: o a foreign country, and to sail from London in a day or tleman, and I believe her.”
“ foreign country was o, Bessie?”
“An island tler did tell me—”
“Madeira?” I suggested.
“Yes, t is it—t is the very word.”
“So ?”
“Yes; stay many minutes in terradesman.’ My Robert believes .”
“Very likely,” I returned; “or per to a wine- merc.”
Bessie and I conversed about old times an o leave me: I sa morning at Loed finally at t Arms t e o meet to take o Gatesed to bear me to neies and a nee.