Autobiographical fiction; England -- Fiction; Feminist fiction; Governesses -- Fiction; Single women -- Fiction
Besides the old lady, there was another relative of the family, whose
visits were a great annoyance to me—this was “Uncle Robson,” Mrs.
Bloomfield’s brother; a tall, self-sufficient fellow, with dark hair
and sallow complexion like his sister, a nose that seemed to disdain
the earth, and little grey eyes, frequently half-closed, with a mixture
of real stupidity and affected contempt of all surrounding objects. He
was a thick-set, strongly-built man, but he had found some means of
compressing his waist into a remarkably small compass; and that,
together with the unnatural stillness of his form, showed that the
lofty-minded, manly Mr. Robson, the scorner of the female sex, was not
above the foppery of stays. He seldom deigned to notice me; and, when
he did, it was with a certain supercilious insolence of tone and manner
that convinced me he was no gentleman: though it was intended to have a
contrary effect. But it was not for that I disliked his coming, so much
as for the harm he did the children—encouraging all their evil
propensities, and undoing in a few minutes the little good it had taken
me months of labour to achieve.
Fanny and little Harriet he seldom condescended to notice; but Mary Ann
was something of a favourite. He was continually encouraging her
tendency to affectation (which I had done my utmost to crush), talking
about her pretty face, and filling her head with all manner of
conceited notions concerning her personal appearance (which I had
instructed her to regard as dust in the balance compared with the
cultivation of her mind and manners); and I never saw a child so
susceptible of flattery as she was. Whatever was wrong, in either her
or her brother, he would encourage by laughing at, if not by actually
praising: people little know the injury they do to children by laughing
at their faults, and making a pleasant jest of what their true friends
have endeavoured to teach them to hold in grave abhorrence.
Though not a positive drunkard, Mr. Robson habitually swallowed great
quantities of wine, and took with relish an occasional glass of brandy
and water. He taught his nephew to imitate him in this to the utmost of
his ability, and to believe that the more wine and spirits he could
take, and the better he liked them, the more he manifested his bold,
and manly spirit, and rose superior to his sisters. Mr. Bloomfield had
not much to say against it, for his favourite beverage was gin and
water; of which he took a considerable portion every day, by dint of
constant sipping—and to that I chiefly attributed his dingy complexion
and waspish temper.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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