British -- India -- Fiction; Epistolary fiction; Kolkata (India) -- History -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
It appeared to me, my Amelia, that there was scant tenderness shown
for the feelings of the gentlemen in this device, but indeed I am so
confused with all I have heard that I can scarce be sure my pity en’t
chiefly for myself. How humbling is it to a young creature’s pride (I
had almost said, how wounding to her delicacy), to find herself
regarded in the light of a bale of merchandise, to be knocked down to
the highest bidder! And why do our instructors recommend to our
perusal the mild counsels of the excellent Mr Addison, if the most
important action of our future life is to give them the lie in every
particular? But Mrs Abigail would say that I was passing judgment on
my elders; I will cease, therefore, and only hope that my papa may be
of a different spirit from Mrs Hamlin.
The gentlemen joined us at supper, and Lieutenant Hamlin demanded of
his sister to give him some music afterwards--a request that was very
heartily seconded by both the others--but on Mrs Hamlin’s declaring
that she was dog-tired, and would fain be early a-bed, the company
broke up. Miss Hamlin very good-naturedly waited upon me to my
chamber, and when she had set down the candlestick, I thought would
have taken her leave, but to my surprise she shut the door, saying--
“Pray, miss, what is your opinion of my aunt’s great piece of policy?”
“Sure I’m grateful to be treated as a reasonable creature, miss,” said
I.
“And for that,” says she, “you may thank my aunt’s love of ease. She
is desirous to pass her time agreeably in playing whisk[1.10] and
brag with her friends, reading romances, or slandering her
neighbours--not in looking after two young women that happen to be
placed in her charge.”
“Indeed, miss, you make vastly free with your aunt’s name.”
“And therefore,” Miss Hamlin went on without heeding me, “she throws
the burden on the young women themselves, and thinks she has done all
her duty when she has placed it on their consciences. Pray, miss, was
you born with a heart?”
“Sure I don’t understand you, miss,” said I, staggered, as they say,
by so sudden and particular[1.11] a question.
“Because I was not,” said this strange girl; “or if I were, it has
been bred out of me--without it be like the coquette’s heart at the
dissection of which your dear ‘Spectator’ says he attended. But you,
miss, if I don’t mistake, are burdened with this useless and improper
possession. Pray understand that by the time you reach Bengall it must
be gone, and replaced either by a purse of gold or a chest of toys and
laces, or else the determination to outshine your neighbours, if you
are ever to cut a figure in Calcutta. The voyage is your opportunity
of practising for its removal.”
“Indeed, miss----” said I, bewildered, but she interrupted me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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