Milly Darrell

violetsilk, with rich white lace about the throat and sleeves.

  'You will find things much pleasanter when the girls come back. Ofcourse school is always a little dreary compared with home; one isprepared for that; but I have no doubt you will contrive to be happy,and I hope we shall be very good friends. I think you must be the MissCrofton I have heard spoken of lately?'

  'Yes, my name is Crofton--Mary Crofton.'

  'And mine is Emily Darrell. Milly I am always called at home, and byany one who likes me. I am a parlour-boarder, and have the run of thehouse, as it were. I am rather old to be at school, you see; but I amgoing home at the end of this year. I was brought up at home with agoverness until about six months ago; but then papa took it into hishead that I should be happier amongst girls of my own age, and sent meoff to school. He has been travelling since that time, and so I havenot been home for the Christmas holidays. I can't tell you what adisappointment that was.'

  I tried to look sympathetic, and, not knowing exactly what to say, Iasked whether Miss Darrell's father lived in that neighbourhood.

  'O dear, no,' she answered; 'he lives nearly a hundred miles away, in avery wild part of Yorkshire, not far from the sea. But Thornleigh--thatis the name for our house--is a dear old place, and I like our bleakwild country better than the loveliest spot in the world. I was bornthere, you see, and all my happy memories of my childhood and my motherare associated with that dear old home.'

  'Is it long since you lost your mother?'

  'Ten years. I loved her so dearly. There are some subjects about whichone dare not speak. I cannot often trust myself to talk of her.'

  I liked her better after this. At first her beauty and her handsomedress had seemed a little overpowering to me; I had felt as if she werea being of another order, a bright happy creature not subject to thecommon woes of life. But now that she had spoken of her own sorrows, Ifelt that we were upon a level; and I stole my hand timidly into hers,and murmured some apology for my previous rudeness.

  'You were not rude, dear. I know I must have seemed very intrusive whenI disturbed you; but I could not bear to hear you crying like that. Andnow tell me where you sleep.'

  I described the room as well as I could.

  'I know where you mean,' she said; 'it's close to my room. I have theprivilege of a little room to myself, you know; and on half-holidays Ihave a fire there, and write my letters, or paint; and you must comeand sit with me on these afternoons, and we can be as happy as possibletogether working and talking. Do you paint?'

  'A little--in a schoolgirlish fashion kind of way.'

  'Quite as well as I do, I daresay,' Miss Darrell answered, laughinggaily, 'only you are more modest about it. O, here comes your supper;may I sit with you while you eat it?'

  'I shall be very glad if you will.'

  'I hope you have brought Miss Crofton a good supper, Sarah,' she wenton in the same gay girlish way.--'Sarah is a very good creature, youmust know, Miss Crofton, though she seems a little grim to strangers.That's only a way of hers: she _can_ smile, I assure you, though you'dhardly think so.'

  Sarah's hard-looking mouth expanded into a kind of grin at this.

  'There's no getting over you, Miss Darrell,' she said; 'you've got sucha way of your own. I've brought Miss Crofton some cold beef; but ifshe'd like a bit of pickle, I wouldn't mind going to ask cook for it.Cold meat does eat a little dry without pickle.'

  This 'bit of pickle' was evidently a concession in my favour made toplease Emily Darrell. I thanked Sarah, and told her that I would nottrouble her with a journey to the cook. I was faint and worn-out withmy day's pilgrimage, and had eaten very little since morning; but themost epicurean repast ever prepared by a French chef would have seemedso much dust and ashes to me that night; so I sat down meekly to mysupper of bread and meat, and listened to Milly Darrell's chatter as Iate it.

  Of course she told me all about the school, Miss Bagshot, and MissSusan Bagshot. The elder of these two ladies was her favourite. MissSusan had, in the remote period of her youth, been the victim of someunhappy love-affair, which had soured her disposition, and inclined herto look on the joys and follies of girlhood with a jaundiced eye. Itwas easy enough to please Miss Bagshot, who had a genial matronly way,and took real delight in her pupils; but it was almost impossible tosatisfy Miss Susan.

  'And I am sorry to say that you will be a good deal with her,' MissDarrell said, shaking her head gravely; 'for you are to take the secondEnglish class under her--I heard them say so at dinner to-day--and I amafraid she will fidget you almost out of your life; but you must try tokeep your temper, and take things as quietly as you can, and I daresayin time you will be able to get on with her.'

  'I'm sure I hope so,' I answered rather sadly; and then Miss Darrellasked me how long I was to be at Albury Lodge.

  'Three years,' I told her; 'and after that, Miss Bagshot is to place mesomewhere as a governess.'

  'You are going to be a governess always?'

  'I suppose so,' I answered. The word 'always' struck me with a littlesharp pain, almost like a wound. Yes, I supposed it would be always. Iwas neither pretty nor attractive. What issue could there be for me outof that dull hackneyed round of daily duties which makes up the sum ofa governess's life?

  'I am obliged to do something for my living,' I said; 'my father isvery poor. I hope I may be able to help him a little by and by.'

  'And my father is so ridiculously rich. He is a great ironmaster, andhas wharves and warehouses, and goodness knows what, at North Shields.How hard it seems!'

  'What seems hard?' I asked absently.

  'That money should be so unequally divided. Do you know, I don't thinkI should much mind going out as a governess: it would be a way ofseeing life. One must meet with all sorts of adventures, going amongstrangers like that.'

  I looked at her as she smiled at me, with a smile that gave anindescribable brightness to her face, and I fancied that for her indeedthere could be no form of life so dull that would not hold sometriumph, some success. She seemed a creature born to extract brightnessout of the commonest things, a creature to be only admired andcaressed, go where she might.

  'You a governess!' I said, a little scornfully; 'you are not of theclay that makes governesses.'

  'Why not?'

  'You are much too pretty and too fascinating.'

  'O, Mary Crofton, Mary Crofton--may I call you Mary, please? we aregoing to be such friends--if you begin by flattering me like that, howam I ever to trust you and lean upon you? I want some one with astronger mind than my own, you know, dear, to lead me right; for I'mthe weakest, vainest creature in the world, I believe. Papa has spoiledme so.'

  'If you are always like what you are to-night, I don't think thespoiling has done much mischief,' I said.

  'O, I am always amiable enough, so long as I have my own way. And nowtell me all about your home.'

  I gave her a faithful account of my brothers and my sister, and a briefdescription of the dear old-fashioned cottage, with its white-plasterwalls crossed with great black beams, its many gables and quaintlatticed windows. I told her how happy and united we had always been athome, and how this made my separation from those I loved so much theharder to bear; to all of which Milly Darrell listened with mostunaffected sympathy.

  Early the next day my new life began in real earnest. Miss SusanBagshot did not allow me to waste my time in idleness until the arrivalof my pupils. She gave me a pile of exercises to correct, and somedifficult needlework to finish; and I found I had indeed a sharptaskmistress in this blighted lady.

  'Girls of your age are so incorrigibly idle,' she said; 'but I mustgive you to understand at once that you will have no time for dawdlingat Albury Lodge. The first bell rings a quarter before six, and at aquarter past I shall expect to see you in the schoolroom. You willsuperintend the younger pupils' pianoforte practice from that time tilleight o'clock, at which hour we breakfast. From nine till twelve youwill take the second division of the second class for English,according to the routi
ne arranged by me, which you had better copy froma paper I will lend you for that purpose. After dinner you will takethe same class for two hours' reading until four; from four to five youwill superintend the needle-work class. Your evenings--with theexception of the careful correction of all the day's exercises--will beyour own. I hope you have a sincere love of your vocation, MissCrofton.'

  I said I hoped I should grow to like my work as I became accustomed toit. I had never yet tried teaching, except with my young sister andbrothers. My heart sank as I remembered our free-and-easy studies inthe sunny parlour at home, or out in the garden under the pink andwhite hawthorns sometimes on