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Milly Darrell

Milly Darrell

Author: M. E. Braddon
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Chapter i. I Begin Life

Word Count: 3503    |    Released on: 19/11/2017

. My father was a country curate, with a delicate wife and four children, of whom I was the eldest; and I had known from my childhoo

adly seized upon by my poor father, who consented to pay the modest premium required by the Miss Bagshots, in order th

quarter, or so, at small obscure stations, staring hopelessly at the advertisements on the walls - advertisements of somebody's life-sustaining cocoa, and somebody else's health-restoring cod-liver oil, or trying to read the big brown-backed Bible in the cheerless little waiting-room; and trying, O so hard, not to think of home, and

little man, whom I took for a commercial traveller, at an inn in the market-place. I watched the road with a kind of idle curiosity as the vehicle lumbered along. The town h

gates in the front had been boarded up, and Albury Lodge was now approached by a little wooden side-door into a stone-flagged covered passage that led to a small door at the end of the house. The omnibus-driver d

espectability and a spotless white apron. I fancied that she looked just a little su

Miss Bagshot and Miss Susan are gone out to tea; but I can show you where you are to sleep, if you

by into which the door at the end of the passage opened. We went very high up, to the top story in fact, where the housemaid led me into a long bare

ting to conduct me to the schoolroom. I followed her, shivering as I went, to a great empty room on the first floor. The holidays were not quite over, and none of the pupils had as yet returned. There was an almost painful neatness and bareness in place of the usual litter of books and papers, and I could not help thinking that an apartment in a workhouse would have looked quite as cheerful. Even the fire behind the high wire guard s

ousemaid said, and departed before I could put in a

table, and rested my head upon my folded arms. Of course it was very weak and foolish, a bad beginning of my new life, but I was quite powerless to contend against that sense of utter mise

a light hand upon my shoulder, and looking up, saw a fac

that night? How poorly can any words of mine paint you in your girlish beauty, as you looked d

etchedness, that even the vision of that bright face gave me little pleasur

id the young lady; 'I can't b

was very foolish of me to cry at all; but this place did look so cheerless and dreary

rything does seem so bleak and dismal the first night; but y

feeling deeply inter

. She was very handsome, a brunette, with a small straight nose, hazel eyes, and dark-brown hair. Her mouth was the prettiest and most expressive I ever

ry compared with home; one is prepared for that; but I have no doubt you will contrive to be happy, and

is Crofton -

ou see; but I am going home at the end of this year. I was brought up at home with a governess until about six months ago; but then papa took it into his head that I should be happier amongst

g exactly what to say, I asked whether Miss

leigh - that is the name for our house - is a dear old place, and I like our bleak wild country better than the loveliest spot in th

ince you lost

some subjects about which one dare not speak.

were a being of another order, a bright happy creature not subject to the common woes of life. But now that she had spoken of her own

intrusive when I disturbed you; but I could not bear to h

he room as we

you know; and on half-holidays I have a fire there, and write my letters, or paint; and you must come and si

schoolgirlish fas

laughing gaily, 'only you are more modest about it. O, he

very glad

ay. -'Sarah is a very good creature, you must know, Miss Crofton, though she seems a little grim t

mouth expanded into a

own. I've brought Miss Crofton some cold beef; but if she'd like a bit of pickle, I wo

to the cook. I was faint and worn-out with my day's pilgrimage, and had eaten very little since morning; but the most epicurean repast ever prepared by a French chef

of her youth, been the victim of some unhappy love-affair, which had soured her disposition, and inclined her to look on the joys and follies of girlhood with a jaundic

econd English class under her - I heard them say so at dinner to-day - and I am afraid she will fidget you almost out of your life; bu

r sadly; and then Miss Darrell asked m

after that, Miss Bagshot is to p

g to be a gov

. Yes, I supposed it would be always. I was neither pretty nor attractive. What issue could there be

' I said; 'my father is very poor. I hope I

ironmaster, and has wharves and warehouses, and good

hard?' I ask

ould much mind going out as a governess: it would be a way of seeing life.

or her indeed there could be no form of life so dull that would not hold some triumph, some success. She seemed a creatur

tle scornfully; 'you are not of

y n

oo pretty and t

ring me like that, how am I ever to trust you and lean upon you? I want some one with a stronger mind than my own, you

e to-night, I don't think the spoil

o long as I have my own way. And

lls crossed with great black beams, its many gables and quaint latticed windows. I told her how happy and united we had always been at home, and

time in idleness until the arrival of my pupils. She gave me a pile of exercises to correct, and som

pils' pianoforte practice from that time till eight o'clock, at which hour we breakfast. From nine till twelve you will take the second division of the second class for English, according to the routine arranged by me, which you had better copy from a paper I will lend you for that purpose. After din

t with my young sister and brothers. My hear sank as I remembered our free-and-easy studies in the sunny parlour

hook her hea

vocation you will never succeed,

less scholars who had the misfortune to belong to her class. Day after day they heard the same lectures, listened submissively to the same reproofs, and toiled on upon that bleak bare high-road to learning, along which it was her delight to drive them. Nothing like a flower brightened their weary way - it was all alike dust and barrenness; but they ploughed on du

t table, while one of the girls in mine droned drearily at Lingard, or Pinnock's Goldsmith, as the case might be! How the vision of my own bright home haunted me during those lo

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