Autobiographical fiction; England -- Fiction; Feminist fiction; Governesses -- Fiction; Single women -- Fiction
“I was thinking of returning—it must be almost time, I think.”
He consulted his watch—a gold one now—and told me it was only five
minutes past seven.
“But, doubtless, you have had a long enough walk,” said he, turning
towards the town, to which I now proceeded leisurely to retrace my
steps; and he walked beside me.
“In what part of the town do you live?” asked he. “I never could
discover.”
Never could discover? Had he endeavoured to do so then? I told him the
place of our abode. He asked how we prospered in our affairs. I told
him we were doing very well—that we had had a considerable addition to
our pupils after the Christmas vacation, and expected a still further
increase at the close of this.
“You must be an accomplished instructor,” he observed.
“No, it is my mother,” I replied; “she manages things so well, and is
so active, and clever, and kind.”
“I should like to know your mother. Will you introduce me to her some
time, if I call?”
“Yes, willingly.”
“And will you allow me the privilege of an old friend, of looking in
upon you now and then?”
“Yes, if—I suppose so.”
This was a very foolish answer, but the truth was, I considered that I
had no right to invite anyone to my mother’s house without her
knowledge; and if I had said, “Yes, if my mother does not object,” it
would appear as if by his question I understood more than was expected;
so, _supposing_ she would not, I added, “I suppose so:” but of course I
should have said something more sensible and more polite, if I had had
my wits about me. We continued our walk for a minute in silence; which,
however, was shortly relieved (no small relief to me) by Mr. Weston
commenting upon the brightness of the morning and the beauty of the
bay, and then upon the advantages A—— possessed over many other
fashionable places of resort.
“You don’t ask what brings me to A——” said he. “You can’t suppose I’m
rich enough to come for my own pleasure.”
“I heard you had left Horton.”
“You didn’t hear, then, that I had got the living of F——?”
F—— was a village about two miles distant from A——.
“No,” said I; “we live so completely out of the world, even here, that
news seldom reaches me through any quarter; except through the medium
of the —— _Gazette_. But I hope you like your new parish; and that I
may congratulate you on the acquisition?”
“I expect to like my parish better a year or two hence, when I have
worked certain reforms I have set my heart upon—or, at least,
progressed some steps towards such an achievement. But you may
congratulate me now; for I find it very agreeable to _have_ a parish
all to myself, with nobody to interfere with me—to thwart my plans or
cripple my exertions: and besides, I have a respectable house in a
rather pleasant neighbourhood, and three hundred pounds a year; and, in
fact, I have nothing but solitude to complain of, and nothing but a
companion to wish for.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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