It was a very high house, with several flights of stairs, and two of
these inquisitors would take me between them, and tear me at a running
pace down the whole length of stairs, my heels lifted from the ground,
and only the tips of my toes bruised against each stair. At night I
would go to bed aching with pain and terror, and sob myself to sleep,
yearning for the faces and sights and sounds that had passed out of my
life.
Ah, what tears I shed in that strange home! To have cried in childhood
as I cried then, incessantly and for months, sometimes for the greater
part of the day under a bed, that none of these mocking young creatures
might see me and laugh at me; to have stood so intolerably alone among
so many, without a hand to dry my eyes, a kiss to comfort me, a soft
breast against which I could rest my tired little head and sob out my
tale of sorrow,--this is to start permanently maimed for the battle of
life. What compensation can the years bring us for such injustice?
Could any possible future paradise make up to us for infancy in hell?
There are faces that stand out upon memory with some kindness in them
for a pitiable little outcast. Chiefly, of course, my stepfather, who
was as serviceably good to me as a man's unreasoning terror of a woman's
temper permitted him to be. He saved me from many a cruel beating, and
when I seemed more than usually miserable, he would, with an air of
secrecy and guilt that charmed me, himself help to fasten on my hat and
little coat, and carry me out upon his business calls.
They used to represent me to him as a dangerous small devil, describing
my outbursts of fury but suppressing the provocation; and I once heard
him exclaim angrily--"I am sick of these complaints of Angela's temper.
When she is with me she is better behaved and gentler than any of them.
You can twist an angel into a devil if you worry and ill-use it."
I know now that he suffered for his partisanship of me, and that he
forsook my cause at last from sheer weariness of spirit and flesh. He
thought it better for his own peace to leave me to the mercies of my
mother, concluding probably that I should not be worse off.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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