Agnes Grey | Page 2

mother, being at once highly
accomplished, well informed, and fond of employment, took the whole charge of our
education on herself, with the exception of Latin--which my father undertook to teach
us--so that we never even went to school; and, as there was no society in the
neighbourhood, our only intercourse with the world consisted in a stately tea-party, now
and then, with the principal farmers and tradespeople of the vicinity (just to avoid being

stigmatized as too proud to consort with our neighbours), and an annual visit to our
paternal grandfather's; where himself, our kind grandmamma, a maiden aunt, and two or
three elderly ladies and gentlemen, were the only persons we ever saw. Sometimes our
mother would amuse us with stories and anecdotes of her younger days, which, while
they entertained us amazingly, frequently awoke--in ME, at least--a secret wish to see a
little more of the world.
I thought she must have been very happy: but she never seemed to regret past times. My
father, however, whose temper was neither tranquil nor cheerful by nature, often unduly
vexed himself with thinking of the sacrifices his dear wife had made for him; and
troubled his head with revolving endless schemes for the augmentation of his little
fortune, for her sake and ours. In vain my mother assured him she was quite satisfied; and
if he would but lay by a little for the children, we should all have plenty, both for time
present and to come: but saving was not my father's forte. He would not run in debt (at
least, my mother took good care he should not), but while he had money he must spend it:
he liked to see his house comfortable, and his wife and daughters well clothed, and well
attended; and besides, he was charitably disposed, and liked to give to the poor,
according to his means: or, as some might think, beyond them.
At length, however, a kind friend suggested to him a means of doubling his private
property at one stroke; and further increasing it, hereafter, to an untold amount. This
friend was a merchant, a man of enterprising spirit and undoubted talent, who was
somewhat straitened in his mercantile pursuits for want of capital; but generously
proposed to give my father a fair share of his profits, if he would only entrust him with
what he could spare; and he thought he might safely promise that whatever sum the latter
chose to put into his hands, it should bring him in cent. per cent. The small patrimony
was speedily sold, and the whole of its price was deposited in the hands of the friendly
merchant; who as promptly proceeded to ship his cargo, and prepare for his voyage.
My father was delighted, so were we all, with our brightening prospects. For the present,
it is true, we were reduced to the narrow income of the curacy; but my father seemed to
think there was no necessity for scrupulously restricting our expenditure to that; so, with
a standing bill at Mr. Jackson's, another at Smith's, and a third at Hobson's, we got along
even more comfortably than before: though my mother affirmed we had better keep
within bounds, for our prospects of wealth were but precarious, after all; and if my father
would only trust everything to her management, he should never feel himself stinted: but
he, for once, was incorrigible.
What happy hours Mary and I have passed while sitting at our work by the fire, or
wandering on the heath-clad hills, or idling under the weeping birch (the only
considerable tree in the garden), talking of future happiness to ourselves and our parents,
of what we would do, and see, and possess; with no firmer foundation for our goodly
superstructure than the riches that were expected to flow in upon us from the success of
the worthy merchant's speculations. Our father was nearly as bad as ourselves; only that
he affected not to be so much in earnest: expressing his bright hopes and sanguine
expectations in jests and playful sallies, that always struck me as being exceedingly witty
and pleasant. Our mother laughed with delight to see him so hopeful and happy: but still
she feared he was setting his heart too much upon the matter; and once I heard her
whisper as she left the room, 'God grant he be not disappointed! I know not how he
would bear it.'

Disappointed he was; and bitterly, too. It came like a thunder- clap on us all, that the
vessel which contained our fortune had been wrecked, and gone to the bottom with all its
stores, together with several of the crew, and the unfortunate merchant himself. I was
grieved for him; I was grieved for the overthrow of all our air-built