Volume I Part 15 (1/2)
had been utterly neglected.
To invent an occupation for herself during the hours thus employed by her aunt, soon became the subject of all Agnes's meditations. She knew that it must be something that should not annoy or inconvenience Mrs.
Barnaby in the slightest degree, and it was this knowledge, perhaps, which made her too discreet to ask for the hire of a pianoforte, for which, nevertheless, she longed, very much like a hart for the water brook; for the musical propensities of her father and mother had descended to her, and of all the pleasures she had yet tasted, that derived from her study and practice of music had been the greatest. But that her aunt should pay money for no other purpose than for her to amuse herself by making a noise in their only sitting-room, was quite out of the question. So the piano she mentally abandoned for ever; but there were other studies that she had pursued at Empton, which, if permitted to renew, even without the aid of any master, would greatly embellish an existence, which the poor girl often felt to be as heavy a gift as could well have been bestowed upon a mortal. Having at length decided what it was she would ask for, she took courage, hemmed twice, and then said,--
”Should you have any objection, aunt, to my endeavouring by myself to go on with my French and Italian, while you are at work?... I am sometimes afraid that I shall forget all I have learned.”
”I am sure I hope not, and it will be very stupid, and very wicked of you, Agnes, if you do. Your teaching is all we ever got out of that hunch-backed Jesabel of an aunt; and you must always recollect, you know, that it is very possible you may have to look to this as your only means of support. I am sure I am excessively fond of you, I may say pa.s.sionately attached to you, it is quite impossible you can ever deny that; but yet we must neither of us ever forget that it is likely enough I may marry again, and have a family; and in that case, my dear, much as I love you, (and my disposition is uncommonly affectionate,) it will be my bounden duty to think of my husband and children, which would probably make it necessary for you to go out as a governess or teacher at a school.”
”I understand that very well, aunt,” replied Agnes, greatly comforted by the prospect thus held out, ”and that is a great additional reason for my endeavouring to render myself fit to undertake such a situation. I was getting on very well at Empton. Will you be so very kind as to let me try to get on by myself here?”
”Certainly, Agnes.... I shall wish to encourage your laudable endeavours; ... but I must say it was a most abominable shame in that Mrs. Wilmot not to teach you satin-st.i.tch, which, after all, is the only really lady-like way in which a young woman can a.s.sist in maintaining herself. Just look at this collar, Agnes; ... the muslin did not cost sixpence ... certainly not more than sixpence, and I'd venture to say that I could not get the fellow of it in any shop in Exeter for two guineas.... It is long before French, or Italian either, will bring such a percentage as that.... Now listen to me, Agnes, before you set-to, upon your stupid books again.... I'll tell you what I am willing to do for you. I hate teaching too much to attempt instructing you myself, but I will pay a woman to come here to give you lessons, if you will tell me truly and sincerely that you shall be able to learn it, and to stick to it. I am so fond of you, Agnes, so particularly fond of you, that I should not at all mind keeping you on, even when I am married, if you will take fairly and honestly to this elegant and lady-like employment, ... for I should never have any difficulty, I dare say, in disposing of what you did, beyond what I might want for myself and children--that is, provided you bring yourself to work in this sort of perfectly elegant style. What d'ye say to it, Agnes?”
”You are very kind, aunt,” replied the terrified girl, blus.h.i.+ng violently, ”but indeed, indeed, I am afraid, that as I have never begun yet, I should find it quite impossible to bring my stubborn fingers to work as yours do. I never was particularly clever in learning to work, I believe, and what you do is so very nice that I could never hope to do anything like it.”
”Perhaps you are right, my dear, ... it is not every woman whose fingers can move as mine do,” replied Mrs. Barnaby, looking down complacently at the mincing paces of her needle; ... ”but your hands are not clumsy, Agnes, rather the contrary, I must say; and I can't but think, child, that if you were to set-to with hearty good will, and practise morning, noon, and night, it is very likely you might learn enough, after a year or two of constant pains-taking, to enable you to give up all your wearisome books at once and for ever. That is worth thinking of twice, I promise you.”
”Indeed, indeed, dear aunt, I never should make anything of it!...”
exclaimed Agnes eagerly; ”I am sure it is one of the things that people must begin early, ... and I don't at all dislike books, ... and I would rather go out to teach, if you please, than work muslin, ... for I am quite, quite sure that I never should do it well, no, not even decently.”
”So much the worse for you, child!... At any rate, I have done my duty by offering to have you taught: please to remember that.”
”And may I begin then, aunt, with my books?”
”And where are you to get books, Miss Agnes?... It is of no use to expect I can buy them, and that you will find.... I see already that Silverton is no rule for the rest of the world as to expense, and that I shall have quite enough to do with my money without wasting it on trumpery; ... so, pray, don't look to my buying books for you, for most a.s.suredly I shall do no such thing.”
”Oh no, aunt!... I do not think of it,--there is not the least occasion for such extravagance; you shall see how well I am provided.” And so saying, she ran out of the room, and in a few minutes returned with a small and very neat mahogany box, which in travelling had been carefully covered by a leathern case, and which her aunt had suffered to accompany her unchallenged, because she presumed it to be the treasury of all ”her best things;” a species of female property for which the widow had never-failing respect, even when it did not belong to herself, which was perhaps more than could be said respecting any other sort of property whatever.
Agnes brought this box in with difficulty, for though small, it was heavy, and when opened displayed to the somewhat surprised eyes of her aunt a collection of tiny volumes, so neatly fitting their receptacle, as to prove that they must have been made to suit each other.
”This was Mr. Wilmot's present to me, aunt,” said Agnes, taking out a volume to exhibit its pretty binding. ”Was it not kind of him?”
”It looks very extravagant, I think, for a man whose wife keeps school.... He must have been sadly puzzled to know what to do with his money.”
”No, aunt, that was not the reason, for Mr. Wilmot is not extravagant at all; but he told me that aunt Betsy, instead of paying every half year, like other people, insisted upon giving him the five years' stipend for me, as well as the money for my clothes, all at once; and that he had always determined upon laying out the interest this sum had brought in a present for me. I think it was very generous of him.”
”And what in the world have you got there, child? All grammars and spelling-books, I suppose; ... but it's the most senseless quant.i.ty of school books that ever were got together for one person, I think.... I see no generosity in anything so very silly.”
”They are not school books, aunt, I a.s.sure you.”
”Then what are they, pray? Why do you make such a mystery about it?”
”Oh! it's no mystery; ... but I did not know... I will read you the t.i.tles, if you please, aunt. Here are Shakspeare, Milton, Spencer, and Gray; ... these are all my English books.”
”And what are these?”
”Racine, Corneille, La Fontaine, and Boileau.”
”What useless tras.h.!.+.... And these?”
”Dante, Ta.s.so, and Petrarch; ... and these six larger volumes are the 'componimenti lirici' of various authors.”