HORTON LODGE
The 31st of January was a wild, day: there was a north wind, with a of on the ground and through the air. My friends would have had me my departure, but of my against me by such want of at the of my undertaking, I in the appointment.
I will not upon my readers an account of my home on that dark winter morning: the farewells, the long, long to O, the in for or trains—for there were some railways then—and, finally, the meeting at O with Mr. Murray's servant, who had been sent with the to drive me from to Horton Lodge. I will just that the had such in the way of and steam-engines, that it was dark some hours I my journey's end, and that a most came on at last, which the miles' space O and Horton Lodge a long and passage. I sat resigned, with the cold, through my and my lap, nothing, and how the and driver make their way as well as they did; and it was but a toilsome, of progression, to say the best of it. At length we paused; and, at the call of the driver, someone and rolled upon their what appeared to be the park gates. Then we along a road, whence, occasionally, I some huge, through the darkness, which I took to be a of a snow-clad tree. After a time we paused again, the of a large house with long to the ground.
I rose with some from under the snowdrift, and from the carriage, that a and would me for the and of the day. A person in black opened the door, and me into a hall, by an amber-coloured lamp from the ceiling; he me through this, along a passage, and opening the door of a room, told me that was the schoolroom. I entered, and two ladies and two gentlemen—my pupils, I supposed. After a greeting, the girl, who was over a piece of and a of German wools, asked if I should like to go upstairs. I in the affirmative, of course.
"Matilda, take a candle, and her her room," said she.
Miss Matilda, a of about fourteen, with a and trousers, her and a grimace, but took a and me up the stairs (a long, steep, flight), and through a long, narrow passage, to a small but room. She then asked me if I would take some tea or coffee. I was about to answer No; but that I had taken nothing since seven o'clock that morning, and in consequence, I said I would take a cup of tea. Saying she would tell "Brown," the lady departed; and by the time I had myself of my heavy, wet cloak, shawl, bonnet, &c., a came to say the ladies to know I would take my tea up there or in the schoolroom. Under the of I to take it there. She withdrew; and, after a while, returned again with a small tea-tray, and it on the of drawers, which as a dressing-table. Having thanked her, I asked at what time I should be to in the morning.
"The ladies and at half-past eight, ma'am," said she; "they early; but, as they do any lessons breakfast, I should think it will do if you soon after seven."
I her to be so as to call me at seven, and, promising to do so, she withdrew. Then, having my long fast on a cup of tea and a little thin and butter, I sat the small, fire, and myself with a fit of crying; after which, I said my prayers, and then, relieved, to prepare for bed. Finding that none of my was up, I a search for the bell; and to any of such a in any of the room, I took my and through the long passage, and the stairs, on a of discovery. Meeting a well-dressed female on the way, I told her what I wanted; but not without hesitation, as I was not sure it was one of the upper servants, or Mrs. Murray herself: it happened, however, to be the lady's-maid. With the air of one an favour, she to the sending up of my things; and when I had re-entered my room, and waited and a long time (greatly that she had or neglected to perform her promise, and to keep waiting or go to bed, or go again), my hopes, at length, were by the of voices and laughter, by the of along the passage; and presently the was in by a rough-looking and a man, neither of them very in their to me. Having the door upon their retiring footsteps, and a of my things, I myself to rest; enough, for I was in and mind.
It was with a of desolation, with a of the of my situation, and a of what was yet unknown, that I the next morning; like one away by enchantment, and from the clouds into a and unknown land, and from all he had or before; or like a thistle-seed on the wind to some of soil, where it must long it can take and germinate, from what so to its nature: if, indeed, it can. But this no proper idea of my at all; and no one that has not such a retired, life as mine, can possibly what they were: if he has what it is to some morning, and himself in Port Nelson, in New Zealand, with a world of himself and all that him.
I shall not soon the with which I my and looked out upon the unknown world: a wide, white was all that met my gaze; a waste of
Deserts in snow,
And groves.
I to the with no to join my pupils, though not without some of what a would reveal. One thing, among others of more importance, I with myself—I must with calling them Miss and Master. It to me a and piece of the children of a family and their and daily companion; where the were in their early childhood, as at Wellwood House; but there, my calling the little Bloomfields by their names had been as an liberty: as their had taken to me, by them Master and Miss Bloomfield, &c., in speaking to me. I had been very slow to take the hint, the whole me as so very absurd; but now I to be wiser, and at once with as much and as any of the family would be likely to require: and, indeed, the children being so much older, there would be less difficulty; though the little Miss and Master to have a in all familiar, open-hearted kindness, and every of that might us.
As I cannot, like Dogberry, it in my to all my upon the reader, I will not go on to him with a minute detail of all the and of this and the day. No he will be satisfied with a sketch of the different members of the family, and a view of the year or two of my among them.
To with the head: Mr. Murray was, by all accounts, a blustering, roystering, country squire: a fox-hunter, a horse-jockey and farrier, an active, practical farmer, and a vivant. By all accounts, I say; for, on Sundays, when he to church, I saw him from month to month: unless, in the or walking in the grounds, the of a tall, gentleman, with and nose, to come across me; on which occasions, if he passed near to speak, an nod, by a "Morning, Miss Grey," or some such salutation, was vouchsafed. Frequently, indeed, his loud laugh me from afar; and still I him and against the footmen, groom, coachman, or some other dependant.
Mrs. Murray was a handsome, lady of forty, who neither to add to her charms; and were, or to be, in or parties, and in at the very top of the fashion. I did not see her till eleven o'clock on the after my arrival; when she me with a visit, just as my mother might step into the to see a new servant-girl: yet not so, either, for my mother would have her after her arrival, and not waited till the next day; and, moreover, she would have her in a more and manner, and her some of as well as a plain of her duties; but Mrs. Murray did neither the one the other. She just into the on her return from ordering dinner in the housekeeper's room, me good-morning, for two minutes by the fire, said a about the weather and the "rather rough" I must have had yesterday; her child—a boy of ten—who had just been his mouth and hands on her gown, after in some from the housekeeper's store; told me what a sweet, good boy he was; and then out, with a self-complacent upon her face: thinking, no doubt, that she had done for the present, and had been into the bargain. Her children the same opinion, and I alone otherwise.
After this she looked in upon me once or twice, the of my pupils, to me my them. For the girls she only to them as and as they possibly be made, without present trouble or to themselves; and I was to act accordingly—to study and to and oblige, instruct, refine, and polish, with the least possible on their part, and no of authority on mine. With to the two boys, it was much the same; only of accomplishments, I was to the possible quantity of Latin and Valpy's Delectus into their heads, in order to fit them for school—the possible quantity at least without trouble to themselves. John might be a "little high-spirited," and Charles might be a little "nervous and "
"But at all events, Miss Grey," said she, "I you will keep your temper, and be mild and patient throughout; with the dear little Charles; he is so and susceptible, and so to anything but the treatment. You will my these to you; for the is, I have all the governesses, the very best of them, in this particular. They wanted that and spirit, which St. Matthew, or some of them, says is than the on of apparel—you will know the passage to which I allude, for you are a clergyman's daughter. But I have no you will give in this respect as well as the rest. And remember, on all occasions, when any of the people do anything improper, if and will not do, let one of the others come and tell me; for I can speak to them more than it would be proper for you to do. And make them as happy as you can, Miss Grey, and I say you will do very well."
I that while Mrs. Murray was so for the and of her children, and talking about it, she once mentioned mine; though they were at home, by friends, and I an among strangers; and I did not yet know of the world, not to be at this anomaly.
Miss Murray, otherwise Rosalie, was about sixteen when I came, and a very girl; and in two years longer, as time more her and added to her and deportment, she positively beautiful; and that in no common degree. She was tall and slender, yet not thin; perfectly formed, fair, though not without a brilliant, healthy bloom; her hair, which she in a of long ringlets, was of a very light to yellow; her were blue, but so clear and that would wish them darker; the of her were small, not regular, and not otherwise: but you not to her a very girl. I wish I say as much for mind and as I can for her and face.
Yet think not I have any to make: she was lively, light-hearted, and be very agreeable, with those who did not her will. Towards me, when I came, she was cold and haughty, then and overbearing; but, on a acquaintance, she her airs, and in time as to me as it was possible for her to be to one of my and position: for she sight, for above an hour at a time, of the of my being a and a curate's daughter. And yet, upon the whole, I she me more than she herself was aware of; I was the only person in the house who good principles, spoke the truth, and to make to duty; and this I say, not, of course, in of myself, but to the of the family to which my services were, for the present, devoted. There was no of it in I this sad want of so much as Miss Murray herself; not only she had taken a to me, but there was so much of what was and in herself, that, in of her failings, I liked her—when she did not my indignation, or my by too great a of her faults. These, however, I would myself were the of her education than her disposition: she had been perfectly the right and wrong; she had, like her and sisters, been suffered, from infancy, to over nurses, governesses, and servants; she had not been to her desires, to her or her will, or to her own for the good of others. Her being naturally good, she was or morose, but from indulgence, and of reason, she was often and capricious; her mind had been cultivated: her intellect, at best, was shallow; she vivacity, some of perception, and some for music and the of languages, but till fifteen she had herself to nothing;—then the love of had her faculties, and her to apply herself, but only to the more accomplishments. And when I came it was the same: was neglected but French, German, music, singing, dancing, fancy-work, and a little drawing—such as might produce the with the smallest labour, and the parts of which were done by me. For music and singing, my occasional instructions, she had the of the best master the country afforded; and in these accomplishments, as well as in dancing, she great proficiency. To music, indeed, she too much of her time, as, though I was, I told her; but her mother that if she liked it, she not give too much time to the of so an art. Of fancy-work I nothing but what I from my and my own observation; but no sooner was I initiated, than she me useful in twenty different ways: all the parts of her work were on to my shoulders; such as the frames, in the canvas, the and silks, in the grounds, the stitches, mistakes, and the pieces she was of.
At sixteen, Miss Murray was something of a romp, yet not more so than is natural and for a girl of that age, but at seventeen, that propensity, like all other things, to give way to the passion, and soon was up in the all-absorbing to and the other sex. But of her: now let us turn to her sister.
Miss Matilda Murray was a hoyden, of little need be said. She was about two years and a than her sister; her were larger, her much darker. She might possibly make a woman; but she was too big-boned and to be called a girl, and at present she little about it. Rosalie all her charms, and them than they were, and valued them more than she ought to have done, had they been three times as great; Matilda she was well enough, but little about the matter; still less did she about the of her mind, and the of accomplishments. The manner in which she learnt her lessons and her music was calculated to drive any to despair. Short and easy as her were, if done at all, they were over, at any time and in any way; but at the least times, and in the way least to herself, and least satisfactory to me: the half-hour of was through; she, meantime, me, either for her with corrections, or for not her mistakes they were made, or something unreasonable. Once or twice, I to with her for such conduct; but on each of those occasions, I such from her mother, as me that, if I to keep the situation, I must let Miss Matilda go on in her own way.
When her lessons were over, however, her ill-humour was over too: while her pony, or with the dogs or her and sister, but with her dear John, she was as happy as a lark. As an animal, Matilda was all right, full of life, vigour, and activity; as an being, she was ignorant, indocile, careless and irrational; and, consequently, very to one who had the of her understanding, her manners, and her to those which, her sister, she as much as the rest. Her mother was aware of her deficiencies, and gave me many a lecture as to how I should try to her tastes, and to and her vanity; and, by insinuating, flattery, to win her attention to the objects—which I would not do; and how I should prepare and the path of learning till she along it without the least to herself: which I not, for nothing can be to any purpose without some little on the part of the learner.
As a agent, Matilda was reckless, headstrong, violent, and to reason. One proof of the of her mind was, that from her father's example she had learned to like a trooper. Her mother was at the "unlady-like trick," and "how she had it up." "But you can soon her of it, Miss Grey," said she: "it is only a habit; and if you will just her every time she so, I am sure she will soon it aside." I not only "gently reminded" her, I to upon her how it was, and how to the ears of people: but all in vain: I was only answered by a careless laugh, and, "Oh, Miss Grey, how you are! I'm so glad!" or, "Well! I can't help it; papa shouldn't have me: I learned it all from him; and maybe a from the coachman."
Her John, Master Murray, was about eleven when I came: a fine, stout, healthy boy, and good-natured in the main, and might have been a had he been properly educated; but now he was as as a bear, boisterous, unruly, unprincipled, untaught, unteachable—at least, for a under his mother's eye. His masters at might be able to manage him better—for to he was sent, to my relief, in the of a year; in a state, it is true, of as to Latin, as well as the more useful though more neglected things: and this, doubtless, would all be to the account of his education having been to an female teacher, who had to take in hand what she was to perform. I was not delivered from his till full twelve months after, when he also was in the same of as the former.
Master Charles was his mother's darling. He was little more than a year than John, but much smaller, paler, and less active and robust; a pettish, cowardly, capricious, selfish little fellow, only active in doing mischief, and only in falsehoods: not to his faults, but, in wantonness, to upon others. In fact, Master Charles was a very great to me: it was a trial of patience to live with him peaceably; to watch over him was worse; and to teach him, or to teach him, was inconceivable. At ten years old, he not read the line in the book; and as, according to his mother's principle, he was to be told every word, he had time to or its orthography, and to be informed, as a to exertion, that other boys were more than he, it is not that he but little progress the two years I had of his education. His minute of Latin grammar, &c., were to be over to him, till he to say he them, and then he was to be helped to say them; if he mistakes in his little easy in arithmetic, they were to be him at once, and the done for him, of his being left to his in them out himself; so that, of course, he took no pains to avoid mistakes, but set his at random, without any at all.
I did not myself to these rules: it was against my to do so; but I to from them in the degree, without the of my little pupil, and of his mamma; to he would relate my exaggerated, or with of his own; and often, in consequence, was I on the point of or my situation. But, for their at home, I my and my indignation, and managed to on till my little was to school; his father that home education was "no go for him, it was plain; his mother him outrageously, and his make no hand of him at all."
A more about Horton Lodge and its ongoings, and I have done with for the present. The house was a very one; to Mr. Bloomfield's, in age, size, and magnificence: the garden was not so out; but of the smooth-shaven lawn, the trees by palings, the of poplars, and the of firs, there was a wide park, with deer, and by old trees. The country itself was pleasant, as as fields, trees, green lanes, and with wild-flowers along their banks, make it; but it was to one and among the of .
We were nearly two miles from the village church, and, consequently, the family was put in every Sunday morning, and sometimes oftener. Mr. and Mrs. Murray it to themselves at church once in the of the day; but the children going a second time to about the all the day with nothing to do. If some of my to walk and take me with them, it was well for me; for otherwise my position in the was to be into the from the open window, and with my to the horses: a position which me sick; and if I were not actually to the church in the middle of the service, my were with a of and sickliness, and the of its worse: and a was my the day, which would otherwise have been one of welcome rest, and holy, enjoyment.
"It's very odd, Miss Grey, that the should always make you sick: it makes me," Miss Matilda,
"Nor me either," said her sister; "but I say it would, if I sat where she does—such a nasty, place, Miss Grey; I wonder how you can it!"
"I am to it, since no choice is left me,"—I might have answered; but in for their I only replied, "Oh! it is but a way, and if I am not in church, I don't mind it."
If I were called upon to give a of the and of the day, I should it a very difficult matter. I had all my in the with my pupils, at such times as their fancy: sometimes they would ring for dinner it was cooked; sometimes they would keep it waiting on the table for above an hour, and then be out of the potatoes were cold, and the with of solid fat; sometimes they would have tea at four; frequently, they would at the it was not in at five; and when these orders were obeyed, by way of to punctuality, they would keep it on the table till seven or eight.
Their hours of study were managed in much the same way; my or was once consulted. Sometimes Matilda and John would "to all the over breakfast," and send the to call me up at half-past five, without any or apology; sometimes, I was told to be at six, and, having in a hurry, came to an empty room, and after waiting a long time in suspense, that they had their minds, and were still in bed; or, perhaps, if it were a morning, Brown would come to tell me that the ladies and had taken a holiday, and were gone out; and then I was waiting for till I was almost to faint: they having themselves with something they went.
Often they would do their lessons in the open air; which I had nothing to say against: that I cold by on the grass, or from to the dew, or some draught, which to have no on them. It was right that they should be hardy; yet, surely, they might have been some for others who were less so. But I must not them for what was, perhaps, my own fault; for I any particular to where they pleased; to the consequences, than trouble them for my convenience. Their manner of doing their lessons was as as the in their choice of time and place. While my instructions, or what they had learned, they would upon the sofa, on the rug, stretch, yawn, talk to each other, or look out of the window; whereas, I not so much as the fire, or up the I had dropped, without being for by one of my pupils, or told that "mamma would not like me to be so careless."
The servants, in what little the was by and children, their by the same standard. I have up for them, at the of some to myself, against the and of their masters and mistresses; and I always to give them as little trouble as possible: but they neglected my comfort, my requests, and my directions. All servants, I am convinced, would not have done so; but in general, being and little to and reflection, are too easily by the and example of those above them; and these, I think, were not of the best order to with.
I sometimes myself by the life I led, and of to so many indignities; and sometimes I myself a for so much about them, and I must be sadly wanting in Christian humility, or that which "suffereth long and is kind, not her own, is not easily provoked, all things, all things."
But, with time and patience, to be ameliorated: slowly, it is true, and almost imperceptibly; but I got of my male (that was no advantage), and the girls, as I one of them, a little less insolent, and to some of esteem. "Miss Grey was a creature: she flattered, and did not them enough; but she did speak of them, or anything to them, they be sure her was sincere. She was very obliging, quiet, and in the main, but there were some that put her out of temper: they did not much for that, to be sure, but still it was to keep her in tune; as when she was in a good she would talk to them, and be very and sometimes, in her way; which was different to mamma's, but still very well for a change. She had her own opinions on every subject, and to them—very opinions they often were; as she was always of what was right and what was wrong, and had a for with religion, and an to good people."
