Esther Waters

Esther Waters [with accents]

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Esther Waters, by George Moore
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Title: Esther Waters
Author: George Moore
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Esther Waters
by
GEORGE MOORE

1899
I
She stood on the platform watching the receding train. A few bushes
hid the curve of the line; the white vapour rose above them, evaporating
in the pale evening. A moment more and the last carriage would pass
out of sight. The white gates swung forward slowly and closed over the
line.
An oblong box painted reddish brown and tied with a rough rope lay on
the seat beside her. The movement of her back and shoulders showed
that the bundle she carried was a heavy one, the sharp bulging of the
grey linen cloth that the weight was dead. She wore a faded yellow
dress and a black jacket too warm for the day. A girl of twenty, short,
strongly built, with short, strong arms. Her neck was plump, and her
hair of so ordinary a brown that it passed unnoticed. The nose was too
thick, but the nostrils were well formed. The eyes were grey, luminous,
and veiled with dark lashes. But it was only when she laughed that her
face lost its habitual expression, which was somewhat sullen; then it
flowed with bright humour. She laughed now, showing a white line of
almond-shaped teeth. The porter had asked her if she were afraid to
leave her bundle with her box. Both, he said, would go up together in
the donkey-cart. The donkey-cart came down every evening to fetch
parcels.... That was the way to Woodview, right up the lane. She could

not miss it. She would find the lodge gate in that clump of trees. The
man lingered, for she was an attractive girl, but the station-master
called him away to remove some luggage.
It was a barren country. Once the sea had crawled at high tide half-way
up the sloping sides of those downs. It would do so now were it not for
the shingle bank which its surging had thrown up along the coast.
Between the shingle bank and the shore a weedy river flowed and the
little town stood clamped together, its feet in the water's edge. There
were decaying shipyards about the harbour, and wooden breakwaters
stretched long, thin arms seawards for ships that did not come. On the
other side of the railway apple blossoms showed above a white-washed
wall; some market gardening was done in the low-lying fields, whence
the downs rose in gradual ascents. On the first slope there was a fringe
of trees. That was Woodview.
The girl gazed on this bleak country like one who saw it for the first
time. She saw without perceiving, for her mind was occupied with
personal consideration. She found it difficult to decide whether she
should leave her bundle with her box. It hung heavy in her hand, and
she did not know how far Woodview was from the station. At the end
of the platform the station-master took her ticket, and she passed over
the level-crossing still undecided. The lane began with iron railings,
laurels, and French windows. She had been in service in such houses,
and knew if she were engaged in any of them what her duties would be.
But the life in Woodview was a great dream, and she could not imagine
herself accomplishing all that would be required of her. There would be
a butler, a footman, and a page; she would not mind the page--but the
butler and footman, what would they think? There would be an
upper-housemaid and an under-housemaid, and perhaps a lady's-maid,
and