Lady Betty's governess : $b or, The Corbet chroniclesGuernsey, Lucy Ellen
History
Lady Betty's governess : $b or, The Corbet chronicles
Guernsey, Lucy Ellen
Governesses -- Juvenile fiction; Great Britain -- History -- Charles I, 1625-1649 -- Juvenile fiction
Her deformity is not nearly so noticeable now that she is stronger and
sits up straighter, and she grows pretty every day, while her aptness
and quick replies make her an amusing companion, even to her father.
I think he will end with being very fond of her, unless some new
influence should come in the way. I earnestly hope so, for the poor
child loves him with an intensity painful to see, and far more than he
deserves. It is a different kind of affection from the quiet, trustful
love she bestows on her mother, and in a somewhat less degree, on me.
Any chance careless word of his—and there are plenty of them—cuts her
to the heart; and any instance of thoughtfulness or affection makes her
happy for all day.
My Lord is fond of chess; though, with reverence be it said, he is
about the worst player I ever saw, and I have to play my best to ensure
his beating me now and then: and I am teaching Betty to play. The more
of a companion she can be to him, the better for her in the event of
anything happening to my Lady.
There was but a small congregation in church, as usually happens on
a holiday. Lady Jemima was there, kneeling on the stone floor, and
did not even look up as we came in. Madam Corbet was also present, as
indeed she never misses a church service, and old Mistress Parnell.
It was pretty to see Mr. Penrose hand the old lady to her place
before going into the vestry. Mrs. Priscilla Fulton was present, and,
methought, Mr. Penrose did send a glance in that direction.
I found the service as ever, so now in my greatest need, wonderfully
soothing and comforting. The words seemed just what I needed—more to
the purpose than any words of mine own could be. They always seem to
me to be hallowed, and as it were perfumed by the devotions of all the
thousands who have used them in the ages past. I am sure no prayers
composed on the spur of the moment, such as they say the Puritans are
wont to use, would be as grateful to me as these. I could not be sure
that another and a stranger would express my wants—nay, he might, even
as poor Mr. Prynne used, I know—say what would seem to me downright
irreverent and untrue. I should have to hear, and in a manner criticise
every sentence, before joining in it. Of course this does not apply to
private prayer, though even there I find myself constantly falling back
on the well-known and familiar psalms and collects, especially when my
feelings are most strongly excited. I must begin to teach Betty the
collects.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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