Agnes Grey | Page 6

my own peculiar favourites, the
pair of snow-white fantails; I had played my last tune on the old familiar piano, and sung
my last song to papa: not the last, I hoped, but the last for what appeared to me a very
long time. And, perhaps, when I did these things again it would be with different feelings:
circumstances might be changed, and this house might never be my settled home again.
My dear little friend, the kitten, would certainly be changed: she was already growing a
fine cat; and when I returned, even for a hasty visit at Christmas, would, most likely, have
forgotten both her playmate and her merry pranks. I had romped with her for the last time;
and when I stroked her soft bright fur, while she lay purring herself to sleep in my lap, it
was with a feeling of sadness I could not easily disguise. Then at bed-time, when I retired
with Mary to our quiet little chamber, where already my drawers were cleared out and my
share of the bookcase was empty--and where, hereafter, she would have to sleep alone, in
dreary solitude, as she expressed it--my heart sank more than ever: I felt as if I had been

selfish and wrong to persist in leaving her; and when I knelt once more beside our little
bed, I prayed for a blessing on her and on my parents more fervently than ever I had done
before. To conceal my emotion, I buried my face in my hands, and they were presently
bathed in tears. I perceived, on rising, that she had been crying too: but neither of us
spoke; and in silence we betook ourselves to our repose, creeping more closely together
from the consciousness that we were to part so soon.
But the morning brought a renewal of hope and spirits. I was to depart early; that the
conveyance which took me (a gig, hired from Mr. Smith, the draper, grocer, and
tea-dealer of the village) might return the same day. I rose, washed, dressed, swallowed a
hasty breakfast, received the fond embraces of my father, mother, and sister, kissed the
cat--to the great scandal of Sally, the maid-- shook hands with her, mounted the gig, drew
my veil over my face, and then, but not till then, burst into a flood of tears. The gig rolled
on; I looked back; my dear mother and sister were still standing at the door, looking after
me, and waving their adieux. I returned their salute, and prayed God to bless them from
my heart: we descended the hill, and I could see them no more.
'It's a coldish mornin' for you, Miss Agnes,' observed Smith; 'and a darksome 'un too; but
we's happen get to yon spot afore there come much rain to signify.'
'Yes, I hope so,' replied I, as calmly as I could.
'It's comed a good sup last night too.'
'Yes.'
'But this cold wind will happen keep it off.'
'Perhaps it will.'
Here ended our colloquy. We crossed the valley, and began to ascend the opposite hill.
As we were toiling up, I looked back again; there was the village spire, and the old grey
parsonage beyond it, basking in a slanting beam of sunshine--it was but a sickly ray, but
the village and surrounding hills were all in sombre shade, and I hailed the wandering
beam as a propitious omen to my home. With clasped hands I fervently implored a
blessing on its inhabitants, and hastily turned away; for I saw the sunshine was departing;
and I carefully avoided another glance, lest I should see it in gloomy shadow, like the rest
of the landscape.

CHAPTER II
--FIRST LESSONS IN THE ART OF INSTRUCTION

As we drove along, my spirits revived again, and I turned, with pleasure, to the
contemplation of the new life upon which I was entering. But though it was not far past
the middle of September, the heavy clouds and strong north-easterly wind combined to
render the day extremely cold and dreary; and the journey seemed a very long one, for, as
Smith observed, the roads were 'very heavy'; and certainly, his horse was very heavy too:
it crawled up the hills, and crept down them, and only condescended to shake its sides in
a trot where the road was at a dead level or a very gentle slope, which was rarely the case
in those rugged regions; so that it was nearly one o'clock before we reached the place of
our destination. Yet, after all, when we entered the lofty iron gateway, when we drove
softly up the smooth, well-rolled carriage-road, with the green lawn on each side, studded
with young trees, and approached the new but stately mansion of Wellwood, rising above

its