THE NOVEL villette

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Title:Villette
Author:CharlotteBronte
ReleaseDate:October,2005[EBook#9182][Yes,wearemorethanoneyear
aheadofschedule][ThisfilewasfirstpostedonSeptember12,2003]
Edition:10
Language:English
Charactersetencoding:ISO-8859-1


***STARTOFTHEPROJECTGUTENBERGEBOOKVILLETTE***

ProducedbyDelphineLettau,CharlesFranksandDistributedProofreaders

VILLETTE.


BY
CHARLOTTEBRONTË.



CONTENTS


CHAPTER
I.BRETTON
II.PAULINA
III.THEPLAYMATES
IV.MISSMARCHMONT
V.TURNINGANEWLEAF
VI.LONDON
VII.VILLETTE
VIII.MADAMEBECK
IX.ISIDORE
X.DR.JOHN
XI.THEPORTRESS’SCABINET
XII.THECASKET
XIII.ASNEEZEOUTOFSEASON
XIV.THEFÊTE
XV.THELONGVACATION
XVI.AULDLANGSYNE
XVII.LATERRASSE

XVIII.WEQUARREL
XIX.THECLEOPATRA


XX.THECONCERT
XXI.REACTION
XXII.THELETTER
XXIII.VASHTI
XXIV.M.DEBASSOMPIERRE
XXV.THELITTLECOUNTESS
XXVI.ABURIAL
XXVII.THEHÔTELCRÉCY
XXVIII.THEWATCHGUARD
XXIX.MONSIEUR’SFÊTE
XXX.M.PAUL
XXXI.THEDRYAD
XXXII.THEFIRSTLETTER
XXXIII.M.PAULKEEPSHISPROMISE
XXXIV.MALEVOLA
XXXV.FRATERNITY
XXXVI.THEAPPLEOFDISCORD
XXXVII.SUNSHINE
XXXVIII.CLOUD
XXXIX.OLDANDNEWACQUAINTANCE
XL.THEHAPPYPAIR


XLI.FAUBOURGCLOTILDE
XLII.FINIS

VILLETTE.

CHAPTERI.
BRETTON.

Mygodmotherlivedinahandsomehouseinthecleanandancienttownof
Bretton.Herhusband’sfamilyhadbeenresidentsthereforgenerations,andbore,
indeed,thenameoftheirbirthplace—BrettonofBretton:whetherby
coincidence,orbecausesomeremoteancestorhadbeenapersonageofsufficient
importancetoleavehisnametohisneighbourhood,Iknownot.
WhenIwasagirlIwenttoBrettonabouttwiceayear,andwellIlikedthevisit.
Thehouseanditsinmatesspeciallysuitedme.Thelargepeacefulrooms,the
well-arrangedfurniture,theclearwidewindows,thebalconyoutside,looking
downonafineantiquestreet,whereSundaysandholidaysseemedalwaysto
abide—soquietwasitsatmosphere,socleanitspavement—thesethingspleased
mewell.
Onechildinahouseholdofgrownpeopleisusuallymadeverymuchof,andin
aquietwayIwasagooddealtakennoticeofbyMrs.Bretton,whohadbeenleft
awidow,withoneson,beforeIknewher;herhusband,aphysician,havingdied
whileshewasyetayoungandhandsomewoman.
Shewasnotyoung,asIrememberher,butshewasstillhandsome,tall,wellmade,andthoughdarkforanEnglishwoman,yetwearingalwaystheclearness
ofhealthinherbrunettecheek,anditsvivacityinapairoffine,cheerfulblack
eyes.Peopleesteemeditagrievouspitythatshehadnotconferredher
complexiononherson,whoseeyeswereblue—though,eveninboyhood,very
piercing—andthecolourofhislonghairsuchasfriendsdidnotventureto


specify,exceptasthesunshoneonit,whentheycalleditgolden.Heinherited
thelinesofhismother’sfeatures,however;alsohergoodteeth,herstature(or
thepromiseofherstature,forhewasnotyetfull-grown),and,whatwasbetter,

herhealthwithoutflaw,andherspiritsofthattoneandequalitywhicharebetter
thanafortunetothepossessor.
Intheautumnoftheyear–-IwasstayingatBretton;mygodmotherhaving
comeinpersontoclaimmeofthekinsfolkwithwhomwasatthattimefixedmy
permanentresidence.Ibelieveshethenplainlysaweventscoming,whosevery
shadowIscarceguessed;yetofwhichthefaintsuspicionsufficedtoimpart
unsettledsadness,andmademegladtochangesceneandsociety.
Timealwaysflowedsmoothlyformeatmygodmother’sside;notwith
tumultuousswiftness,butblandly,liketheglidingofafullriverthroughaplain.
MyvisitstoherresembledthesojournofChristianandHopefulbesideacertain
pleasantstream,with“greentreesoneachbank,andmeadowsbeautifiedwith
liliesalltheyearround.”Thecharmofvarietytherewasnot,northeexcitement
ofincident;butIlikedpeacesowell,andsoughtstimulussolittle,thatwhenthe
lattercameIalmostfeltitadisturbance,andwishedratherithadstillheldaloof.
OnedayaletterwasreceivedofwhichthecontentsevidentlycausedMrs.
Brettonsurpriseandsomeconcern.Ithoughtatfirstitwasfromhome,and
trembled,expectingIknownotwhatdisastrouscommunication:tome,however,
noreferencewasmade,andthecloudseemedtopass.
Thenextday,onmyreturnfromalongwalk,Ifound,asIenteredmybedroom,
anunexpectedchange.In,additiontomyownFrenchbedinitsshadyrecess,
appearedinacornerasmallcrib,drapedwithwhite;andinadditiontomy
mahoganychestofdrawers,Isawatinyrosewoodchest.Istoodstill,gazed,and
considered.
“Ofwhatarethesethingsthesignsandtokens?”Iasked.Theanswerwas
obvious.“Asecondguestiscoming:Mrs.Brettonexpectsothervisitors.”
Ondescendingtodinner,explanationsensued.Alittlegirl,Iwastold,would
shortlybemycompanion:thedaughterofafriendanddistantrelationofthelate
Dr.Bretton’s.Thislittlegirl,itwasadded,hadrecentlylosthermother;though,
indeed,Mrs.Brettonerelongsubjoined,thelosswasnotsogreatasmightat
firstappear.Mrs.Home(Homeitseemswasthename)hadbeenaverypretty,

butagiddy,carelesswoman,whohadneglectedherchild,anddisappointedand
disheartenedherhusband.Sofarfromcongenialhadtheunionproved,that
separationatlastensued—separationbymutualconsent,notafteranylegal
process.Soonafterthisevent,theladyhavingover-exertedherselfataball,
caughtcold,tookafever,anddiedafteraverybriefillness.Herhusband,
naturallyamanofverysensitivefeelings,andshockedinexpressiblybytoo
suddencommunicationofthenews,couldhardly,itseems,nowbepersuaded
butthatsomeover-severityonhispart—somedeficiencyinpatienceand
indulgence—hadcontributedtohastenherend.Hehadbroodedoverthisidea
tillhisspiritswereseriouslyaffected;themedicalmeninsistedontravelling
beingtriedasaremedy,andmeanwhileMrs.Brettonhadofferedtotakecharge
ofhislittlegirl.“AndIhope,”addedmygodmotherinconclusion,“thechild
willnotbelikehermamma;assillyandfrivolousalittleflirtaseversensible
manwasweakenoughtomarry.For,”saidshe,“Mr.Homeisasensiblemanin
hisway,thoughnotverypractical:heisfondofscience,andliveshalfhislifein
alaboratorytryingexperiments—athinghisbutterflywifecouldneither
comprehendnorendure;andindeed”confessedmygodmother,“Ishouldnot
havelikeditmyself.”
Inanswertoaquestionofmine,shefurtherinformedmethatherlatehusband
usedtosay,Mr.Homehadderivedthisscientificturnfromamaternaluncle,a
Frenchsavant;forhecame,itseems;ofmixedFrenchandScottishorigin,and
hadconnectionsnowlivinginFrance,ofwhommorethanonewrotedebefore
hisname,andcalledhimselfnoble.
Thatsameeveningatnineo’clock,aservantwasdespatchedtomeetthecoach
bywhichourlittlevisitorwasexpected.Mrs.BrettonandIsataloneinthe
drawing-roomwaitinghercoming;JohnGrahamBrettonbeingabsentonavisit
tooneofhisschoolfellowswholivedinthecountry.Mygodmotherreadthe
eveningpaperwhileshewaited;Isewed.Itwasawetnight;therainlashedthe

panes,andthewindsoundedangryandrestless.
“Poorchild!”saidMrs.Brettonfromtimetotime.“Whatweatherforher
journey!Iwishsheweresafehere.”
Alittlebeforetenthedoor-bellannouncedWarren’sreturn.Nosoonerwasthe
dooropenedthanIrandownintothehall;therelayatrunkandsomebandboxes,
besidethemstoodapersonlikeanurse-girl,andatthefootofthestaircasewas
Warrenwithashawledbundleinhisarms.


“Isthatthechild?”Iasked.
“Yes,miss.”
Iwouldhaveopenedtheshawl,andtriedtogetapeepattheface,butitwas
hastilyturnedfrommetoWarren’sshoulder.
“Putmedown,please,”saidasmallvoicewhenWarrenopenedthedrawingroomdoor,“andtakeoffthisshawl,”continuedthespeaker,extractingwithits
minutehandthepin,andwithasortoffastidioushastedoffingtheclumsy
wrapping.Thecreaturewhichnowappearedmadeadeftattempttofoldthe
shawl;butthedraperywasmuchtooheavyandlargetobesustainedorwielded
bythosehandsandarms.“GiveittoHarriet,please,”wasthenthedirection,
“andshecanputitaway.”Thissaid,itturnedandfixeditseyesonMrs.Bretton.
“Comehere,littledear,”saidthatlady.“Comeandletmeseeifyouarecoldand
damp:comeandletmewarmyouatthefire.”
Thechildadvancedpromptly.Relievedofherwrapping,sheappeared
exceedinglytiny;butwasaneat,completely-fashionedlittlefigure,light,slight,
andstraight.Seatedonmygodmother’samplelap,shelookedameredoll;her
neck,delicateaswax,herheadofsilkycurls,increased,Ithought,the
resemblance.
Mrs.Brettontalkedinlittlefondphrasesasshechafedthechild’shands,arms,
andfeet;firstshewasconsideredwithawistfulgaze,butsoonasmileanswered
her.Mrs.Brettonwasnotgenerallyacaressingwoman:evenwithherdeeplycherishedson,hermannerwasrarelysentimental,oftenthereverse;butwhen
thesmallstrangersmiledather,shekissedit,asking,“Whatismylittleone’s

name?”
“Missy.”
“ButbesidesMissy?”
“Polly,papacallsher.”
“WillPollybecontenttolivewithme?”
“Notalways;buttillpapacomeshome.Papaisgoneaway.”Sheshookherhead


expressively.
“HewillreturntoPolly,orsendforher.”
“Willhe,ma’am?Doyouknowhewill?”
“Ithinkso.”
“ButHarrietthinksnot:atleastnotforalongwhile.Heisill.”
Hereyesfilled.ShedrewherhandfromMrs.Bretton’sandmadeamovementto
leaveherlap;itwasatfirstresisted,butshesaid—“Please,Iwishtogo:Ican
sitonastool.”
Shewasallowedtoslipdownfromtheknee,andtakingafootstool,shecarried
ittoacornerwheretheshadewasdeep,andthereseatedherself.Mrs.Bretton,
thoughacommanding,andingravemattersevenaperemptorywoman,was
oftenpassiveintrifles:sheallowedthechildherway.Shesaidtome,“Takeno
noticeatpresent.”ButIdidtakenotice:IwatchedPollyresthersmallelbowon
hersmallknee,herheadonherhand;Iobservedherdrawasquareinchortwo
ofpocket-handkerchieffromthedoll-pocketofherdoll-skirt,andthenIheard
herweep.Otherchildreningrieforpaincryaloud,withoutshameorrestraint;
butthisbeingwept:thetiniestoccasionalsnifftestifiedtoheremotion.Mrs.
Brettondidnothearit:whichwasquiteaswell.Erelong,avoice,issuingfrom
thecorner,demanded—“MaythebellberungforHarriet!”
Irang;thenursewassummonedandcame.
“Harriet,Imustbeputtobed,”saidherlittlemistress.“Youmustaskwheremy
bedis.”

Harrietsignifiedthatshehadalreadymadethatinquiry.
“Askifyousleepwithme,Harriet.”
“No,Missy,”saidthenurse:“youaretosharethisyounglady’sroom,”
designatingme.
Missydidnotleaveherseat,butIsawhereyesseekme.Aftersomeminutes’
silentscrutiny,sheemergedfromhercorner.


“Iwishyou,ma’am,goodnight,”saidshetoMrs.Bretton;butshepassedme
mute.
“Good-night,Polly,”Isaid.
“Noneedtosaygood-night,sincewesleepinthesamechamber,”wasthereply,
withwhichshevanishedfromthedrawing-room.WeheardHarrietproposeto
carryherupstairs.“Noneed,”wasagainheranswer—“noneed,noneed:”and
hersmallsteptoiledwearilyupthestaircase.
Ongoingtobedanhourafterwards,Ifoundherstillwideawake.Shehad
arrangedherpillowssoastosupportherlittlepersoninasittingposture:her
hands,placedonewithintheother,restedquietlyonthesheet,withanoldfashionedcalmmostunchildlike.Iabstainedfromspeakingtoherforsometime,
butjustbeforeextinguishingthelight,Irecommendedhertoliedown.
“Byandby,”wastheanswer.
“Butyouwilltakecold,Missy.”
Shetooksometinyarticleofraimentfromthechairathercribside,andwithit
coveredhershoulders.Isufferedhertodoasshepleased.Listeningawhilein
thedarkness,Iwasawarethatshestillwept,—weptunderrestraint,quietlyand
cautiously.
Onawakingwithdaylight,atricklingofwatercaughtmyear.Behold!thereshe
wasrisenandmountedonastoolnearthewashstand,withpainsanddifficulty
incliningtheewer(whichshecouldnotlift)soastopouritscontentsintothe
basin.Itwascurioustowatchherasshewashedanddressed,sosmall,busy,and
noiseless.Evidentlyshewaslittleaccustomedtoperformherowntoilet;andthe

buttons,strings,hooksandeyes,offereddifficultieswhichsheencounteredwith
aperseverancegoodtowitness.Shefoldedhernight-dress,shesmoothedthe
draperyofhercouchquiteneatly;withdrawingintoacorner,wherethesweepof
thewhitecurtainconcealedher,shebecamestill.Ihalfrose,andadvancedmy,
headtoseehowshewasoccupied.Onherknees,withherforeheadbentonher
hands,Iperceivedthatshewaspraying.
Hernursetappedatthedoor.Shestartedup.
“Iamdressed,Harriet,”saidshe;“Ihavedressedmyself,butIdonotfeelneat.


Makemeneat!”
“Whydidyoudressyourself,Missy?”
“Hush!speaklow,Harriet,forfearofwakingthegirl”(meaningme,whonow
laywithmyeyesshut).“Idressedmyselftolearn,againstthetimeyouleave
me.”
“Doyouwantmetogo?”
“Whenyouarecross,Ihavemanyatimewantedyoutogo,butnotnow.Tiemy
sashstraight;makemyhairsmooth,please.”
“Yoursashisstraightenough.Whataparticularlittlebodyyouare!”
“Itmustbetiedagain.Pleasetotieit.”
“There,then.WhenIamgoneyoumustgetthatyoungladytodressyou.”
“Onnoaccount.”
“Why?Sheisaveryniceyounglady.Ihopeyoumeantobehaveprettilytoher,
Missy,andnotshowyourairs.”
“Sheshalldressmeonnoaccount.”
“Comicallittlething!”
“Youarenotpassingthecombstraightthroughmyhair,Harriet;thelinewillbe
crooked.”
“Ay,youareilltoplease.Doesthatsuit?”
“Prettywell.WhereshouldIgonowthatIamdressed?”

“Iwilltakeyouintothebreakfast-room.”
“Come,then.”
Theyproceededtothedoor.Shestopped.


“Oh!Harriet,Iwishthiswaspapa’shouse!Idon’tknowthesepeople.”
“Beagoodchild,Missy.”
“Iamgood,butIachehere;”puttingherhandtoherheart,andmoaningwhile
shereiterated,“Papa!papa!”
Irousedmyselfandstartedup,tocheckthisscenewhileitwasyetwithin
bounds.
“Saygood-morningtotheyounglady,”dictatedHarriet.Shesaid,“Goodmorning,”andthenfollowedhernursefromtheroom.Harriettemporarilyleft
thatsameday,togotoherownfriends,wholivedintheneighbourhood.
Ondescending,IfoundPaulina(thechildcalledherselfPolly,butherfullname
wasPaulinaMary)seatedatthebreakfast-table,byMrs.Bretton’sside;amugof
milkstoodbeforeher,amorselofbreadfilledherhand,whichlaypassiveonthe
table-cloth:shewasnoteating.
“Howweshallconciliatethislittlecreature,”saidMrs.Brettontome,“Idon’t
know:shetastesnothing,andbyherlooks,shehasnotslept.”
Iexpressedmyconfidenceintheeffectsoftimeandkindness.
“Ifsheweretotakeafancytoanybodyinthehouse,shewouldsoonsettle;but
nottillthen,”repliedMrs.Bretton.

CHAPTERII.
PAULINA.

Somedayselapsed,anditappearedshewasnotlikelytotakemuchofafancyto
anybodyinthehouse.Shewasnotexactlynaughtyorwilful:shewasfarfrom
disobedient;butanobjectlessconducivetocomfort—totranquillityeven—than
shepresented,itwasscarcelypossibletohavebeforeone’seyes.Shemoped:no

grownpersoncouldhaveperformedthatuncheeringbusinessbetter;no


furrowedfaceofadultexile,longingforEuropeatEurope’santipodes,everbore
morelegiblythesignsofhomesicknessthandidherinfantvisage.Sheseemed
growingoldandunearthly.I,LucySnowe,pleadguiltlessofthatcurse,an
overheatedanddiscursiveimagination;butwhenever,openingaroom-door,I
foundherseatedinacorneralone,herheadinherpigmyhand,thatroom
seemedtomenotinhabited,buthaunted.
Andagain,whenofmoonlightnights,onwaking,Ibeheldherfigure,whiteand
conspicuousinitsnight-dress,kneelinguprightinbed,andprayinglikesome
CatholicorMethodistenthusiast—someprecociousfanaticoruntimelysaint—I
scarcelyknowwhatthoughtsIhad;buttheyranriskofbeinghardlymore
rationalandhealthythanthatchild’smindmusthavebeen.
Iseldomcaughtawordofherprayers,fortheywerewhisperedlow:sometimes,
indeed,theywerenotwhisperedatall,butputupunuttered;suchraresentences
asreachedmyearstillboretheburden,“Papa;mydearpapa!”This,Iperceived,
wasaone-idea’dnature;betrayingthatmonomaniactendencyIhaveever
thoughtthemostunfortunatewithwhichmanorwomancanbecursed.
Whatmighthavebeentheendofthisfretting,haditcontinuedunchecked,can
onlybeconjectured:itreceived,however,asuddenturn.
Oneafternoon,Mrs.Bretton,coaxingherfromherusualstationinacorner,had
liftedherintothewindow-seat,and,bywayofoccupyingherattention,toldher
towatchthepassengersandcounthowmanyladiesshouldgodownthestreetin
agiventime.Shehadsatlistlessly,hardlylooking,andnotcounting,when—my
eyebeingfixedonhers—Iwitnessedinitsirisandpupilastartling
transfiguration.Thesesudden,dangerousnatures—_sensitive_astheyarecalled
—offermanyacuriousspectacletothosewhomacoolertemperamenthas
securedfromparticipationintheirangularvagaries.Thefixedandheavygaze
swum,trembled,thenglitteredinfire;thesmall,overcastbrowcleared;the

trivialanddejectedfeatureslitup;thesadcountenancevanished,andinitsplace
appearedasuddeneagerness,anintenseexpectancy.“Itis!”wereherwords.
Likeabirdorashaft,oranyotherswiftthing,shewasgonefromtheroom,
Howshegotthehouse-dooropenIcannottell;probablyitmightbeajar;
perhapsWarrenwasinthewayandobeyedherbehest,whichwouldbe
impetuousenough.I—watchingcalmlyfromthewindow—sawher,inherblack
frockandtinybraidedapron(topinaforesshehadanantipathy),darthalfthe


lengthofthestreet;and,asIwasonthepointofturning,andquietlyannouncing
toMrs.Brettonthatthechildwasrunoutmad,andoughtinstantlytobe
pursued,Isawhercaughtup,andraptatoncefrommycoolobservation,and
fromthewonderingstareofthepassengers.Agentlemanhaddonethisgood
turn,andnow,coveringherwithhiscloak,advancedtorestorehertothehouse
whencehehadseenherissue.
Iconcludedhewouldleaveherinaservant’schargeandwithdraw;buthe
entered:havingtarriedalittlewhilebelow,hecameupstairs.
HisreceptionimmediatelyexplainedthathewasknowntoMrs.Bretton.She
recognisedhim;shegreetedhim,andyetshewasfluttered,surprised,taken
unawares.Herlookandmannerwereevenexpostulatory;andinreplytothese,
ratherthanherwords,hesaid,—“Icouldnothelpit,madam:Ifoundit
impossibletoleavethecountrywithoutseeingwithmyowneyeshowshe
settled.”
“Butyouwillunsettleher.”
“Ihopenot.Andhowispapa’slittlePolly?”
ThisquestionheaddressedtoPaulina,ashesatdownandplacedhergentlyon
thegroundbeforehim.
“HowisPolly’spapa?”wasthereply,assheleanedonhisknee,andgazedup
intohisface.
Itwasnotanoisy,notawordyscene:forthatIwasthankful;butitwasascene

offeelingtoobrimful,andwhich,becausethecupdidnotfoamuphighor
furiouslyoverflow,onlyoppressedonethemore.Onalloccasionsofvehement,
unrestrainedexpansion,asenseofdisdainorridiculecomestotheweary
spectator’srelief;whereasIhaveeverfeltmostburdensomethatsortof
sensibilitywhichbendsofitsownwill,agiantslaveundertheswayofgood
sense.
Mr.Homewasastern-featured—perhapsIshouldrathersay,ahard-featured
man:hisforeheadwasknotty,andhischeekbonesweremarkedandprominent.
ThecharacterofhisfacewasquiteScotch;buttherewasfeelinginhiseye,and
emotioninhisnowagitatedcountenance.Hisnorthernaccentinspeaking
harmonisedwithhisphysiognomy.Hewasatonceproud-lookingandhomely-


looking.Helaidhishandonthechild’supliftedhead.Shesaid—“KissPolly.”
Hekissedher.Iwishedshewoulduttersomehystericalcry,sothatImightget
reliefandbeatease.Shemadewonderfullylittlenoise:sheseemedtohavegot
whatshewanted—allshewanted,andtobeinatranceofcontent.Neitherin
miennorinfeatureswasthiscreaturelikehersire,andyetshewasofhisstrain:
hermindhadbeenfilledfromhis,asthecupfromtheflagon.
Indisputably,Mr.Homeownedmanlyself-control,howeverhemightsecretly
feelonsomematters.“Polly,”hesaid,lookingdownonhislittlegirl,“gointo
thehall;youwillseepapa’sgreatcoatlyingonachair;putyourhandintothe
pockets,youwillfindapocket-handkerchiefthere;bringittome.”
Sheobeyed;wentandreturneddeftlyandnimbly.HewastalkingtoMrs.
Brettonwhenshecameback,andshewaitedwiththehandkerchiefinherhand.
Itwasapicture,initsway,toseeher,withhertinystature,andtrim,neatshape,
standingathisknee.Seeingthathecontinuedtotalk,apparentlyunconsciousof
herreturn,shetookhishand,openedtheunresistingfingers,insinuatedinto
themthehandkerchief,andclosedthemuponitonebyone.Hestillseemednot
toseeortofeelher;butby-and-by,heliftedhertohisknee;shenestledagainst

him,andthoughneitherlookedatnorspoketotheotherforanhourfollowing,I
supposebothweresatisfied.
Duringtea,theminutething’smovementsandbehaviourgave,asusual,full
occupationtotheeye.FirstshedirectedWarren,asheplacedthechairs.
“Putpapa’schairhere,andminenearit,betweenpapaandMrs.Bretton:Imust
handhistea.”
Shetookherownseat,andbeckonedwithherhandtoherfather.
“Benearme,asifwewereathome,papa.”
Andagain,assheinterceptedhiscupinpassing,andwouldstirthesugar,and
putinthecreamherself,“Ialwaysdiditforyouathome;papa:nobodycoulddo
itaswell,notevenyourownself.”
Throughoutthemealshecontinuedherattentions:ratherabsurdtheywere.The
sugar-tongsweretoowideforoneofherhands,andshehadtousebothin
wieldingthem;theweightofthesilvercream-ewer,thebread-and-butterplates,


theverycupandsaucer,taskedherinsufficientstrengthanddexterity;butshe
wouldliftthis,handthat,andluckilycontrivedthroughitalltobreaknothing.
Candidlyspeaking,Ithoughtheralittlebusybody;butherfather,blindlike
otherparents,seemedperfectlycontenttoletherwaitonhim,andeven
wonderfullysoothedbyheroffices.
“Sheismycomfort!”hecouldnothelpsayingtoMrs.Bretton.Thatladyhad
herown“comfort”andnonpareilonamuchlargerscale,and,forthemoment,
absent;soshesympathisedwithhisfoible.
Thissecond“comfort”cameonthestageinthecourseoftheevening.Iknew
thisdayhadbeenfixedforhisreturn,andwasawarethatMrs.Brettonhadbeen
expectinghimthroughallitshours.Wewereseatedroundthefire,aftertea,
whenGrahamjoinedourcircle:Ishouldrathersay,brokeitup—for,ofcourse,
hisarrivalmadeabustle;andthen,asMr.Grahamwasfasting,therewas
refreshmenttobeprovided.HeandMr.Homemetasoldacquaintance;ofthe

littlegirlhetooknonoticeforatime.
Hismealover,andnumerousquestionsfromhismotheranswered,heturned
fromthetabletothehearth.Oppositewherehehadplacedhimselfwasseated
Mr.Home,andathiselbow,thechild.WhenIsaychildIuseaninappropriate
andundescriptiveterm—atermsuggestinganypictureratherthanthatofthe
demurelittlepersoninamourningfrockandwhitechemisette,thatmightjust
havefittedagood-sizeddoll—perchednowonahighchairbesideastand,
whereonwashertoyworkboxofwhitevarnishedwood,andholdinginher
handsashredofahandkerchief,whichshewasprofessingtohem,andatwhich
sheboredperseveringlywithaneedle,thatinherfingersseemedalmosta
skewer,prickingherselfeverandanon,markingthecambricwithatrackof
minutereddots;occasionallystartingwhentheperverseweapon—swerving
fromhercontrol—inflictedadeeperstabthanusual;butstillsilent,diligent,
absorbed,womanly.
Grahamwasatthattimeahandsome,faithless-lookingyouthofsixteen.Isay
faithless-looking,notbecausehewasreallyofaveryperfidiousdisposition,but
becausetheepithetstrikesmeaspropertodescribethefair,Celtic(notSaxon)
characterofhisgoodlooks;hiswavedlightauburnhair,hissupplesymmetry,
hissmilefrequent,anddestituteneitheroffascinationnorofsubtlety(innobad
sense).Aspoiled,whimsicalboyhewasinthosedays.


“Mother,”hesaid,aftereyeingthelittlefigurebeforehiminsilenceforsome
time,andwhenthetemporaryabsenceofMr.Homefromtheroomrelievedhim
fromthehalf-laughingbashfulness,whichwasallheknewoftimidity–“Mother,
IseeayoungladyinthepresentsocietytowhomIhavenotbeenintroduced.”
“Mr.Home’slittlegirl,Isupposeyoumean,”saidhismother.
“Indeed,ma’am,”repliedherson,“Iconsideryourexpressionoftheleast
ceremonious:MissHomeIshouldcertainlyhavesaid,inventuringtospeakof
thegentlewomantowhomIallude.”

“Now,Graham,Iwillnothavethatchildteased.Don’tflatteryourselfthatI
shallsufferyoutomakeheryourbutt.”
“MissHome,”pursuedGraham,undeterredbyhismother’sremonstrance,
“mightIhavethehonourtointroducemyself,sincenooneelseseemswillingto
renderyouandmethatservice?Yourslave,JohnGrahamBretton.”
Shelookedathim;heroseandbowedquitegravely.Shedeliberatelyputdown
thimble,scissors,work;descendedwithprecautionfromherperch,and
curtsyingwithunspeakableseriousness,said,“Howdoyoudo?”
“Ihavethehonourtobeinfairhealth,onlyinsomemeasurefatiguedwitha
hurriedjourney.Ihope,ma’am,Iseeyouwell?”
“Tor-rer-ablywell,”wastheambitiousreplyofthelittlewomanandshenow
essayedtoregainherformerelevation,butfindingthiscouldnotbedone
withoutsomeclimbingandstraining—asacrificeofdecorumnottobethought
of—andbeingutterlydisdainfulofaidinthepresenceofastrangeyoung
gentleman,sherelinquishedthehighchairforalowstool:towardsthatlowstool
Grahamdrewinhischair.
“Ihope,ma’am,thepresentresidence,mymother’shouse,appearstoyoua
convenientplaceofabode?”
“Notpar-tic-er-er-ly;Iwanttogohome.”
“Anaturalandlaudabledesire,ma’am;butonewhich,notwithstanding,Ishall
domybesttooppose.Ireckononbeingabletogetoutofyoualittleofthat
preciouscommoditycalledamusement,whichmammaandMistressSnowe


therefailtoyieldme.”
“Ishallhavetogowithpapasoon:Ishallnotstaylongatyourmother’s.”
“Yes,yes;youwillstaywithme,Iamsure.Ihaveaponyonwhichyoushall
ride,andnoendofbookswithpicturestoshowyou.”
“Areyougoingtoliveherenow?”
“Iam.Doesthatpleaseyou?Doyoulikeme?”

“No.”
“Why?”
“Ithinkyouqueer.”
“Myface,ma’am?”
“Yourfaceandallaboutyou:Youhavelongredhair.”
“Auburnhair,ifyouplease:mamma,callsitauburn,orgolden,andsodoallher
friends.Butevenwithmy‘longredhair’”(andhewavedhismanewithasortof
triumph—tawnyhehimselfwellknewthatitwas,andhewasproudofthe
leoninehue),“Icannotpossiblybequeererthanisyourladyship.”
“Youcallmequeer?”
“Certainly.”
(Afterapause),“IthinkIshallgotobed.”
“Alittlethinglikeyououghttohavebeeninbedmanyhourssince;butyou
probablysatupintheexpectationofseeingme?”
“No,indeed.”
“Youcertainlywishedtoenjoythepleasureofmysociety.YouknewIwas
cominghome,andwouldwaittohavealookatme.”
“Isatupforpapa,andnotforyou.”


“Verygood,MissHome.Iamgoingtobeafavourite:preferredbeforepapa
soon,Idaresay.”
ShewishedMrs.Brettonandmyselfgood-night;sheseemedhesitatingwhether
Graham’sdesertsentitledhimtothesameattention,whenhecaughtherupwith
onehand,andwiththatonehandheldherpoisedaloftabovehishead.Shesaw
herselfthuslifteduponhigh,intheglassoverthefireplace.Thesuddenness,the
freedom,thedisrespectoftheactionweretoomuch.
“Forshame,Mr.Graham!”washerindignantcry,“putmedown!”—andwhen
againonherfeet,“IwonderwhatyouwouldthinkofmeifIweretotreatyouin
thatway,liftingyouwithmyhand”(raisingthatmightymember)“asWarren

liftsthelittlecat.”
Sosaying,shedeparted.

CHAPTERIII.
THEPLAYMATES.

Mr.Homestayedtwodays.Duringhisvisithecouldnotbeprevailedontogo
out:hesatalldaylongbythefireside,sometimessilent,sometimesreceiving
andansweringMrs.Bretton’schat,whichwasjustofthepropersortforamanin
hismorbidmood—notover-sympathetic,yetnottoouncongenial,sensible;and
evenwithatouchofthemotherly—shewassufficientlyhisseniortobe
permittedthistouch.
AstoPaulina,thechildwasatoncehappyandmute,busyandwatchful.Her
fatherfrequentlyliftedhertohisknee;shewouldsittheretillshefeltorfancied
hegrewrestless;thenitwas—“Papa,putmedown;Ishalltireyouwithmy
weight.”
Andthemightyburdenslidtotherug,andestablishingitselfoncarpetorstool
justat“papa’s”feet,thewhiteworkboxandthescarlet-speckledhandkerchief
cameintoplay.Thishandkerchief,itseems,wasintendedasakeepsakefor
“papa,”andmustbefinishedbeforehisdeparture;consequentlythedemandon


thesempstress’sindustry(sheaccomplishedaboutascoreofstitchesinhalf-anhour)wasstringent.
Theevening,byrestoringGrahamtothematernalroof(hisdayswerepassedat
school),broughtusanaccessionofanimation—aqualitynotdiminishedbythe
natureofthescenesprettysuretobeenactedbetweenhimandMissPaulina.
Adistantandhaughtydemeanourhadbeentheresultoftheindignityputupon
herthefirsteveningofhisarrival:herusualanswer,whenheaddressedher,was
—“Ican’tattendtoyou;Ihaveotherthingstothinkabout.”Beingimploredto
statewhatthings:

“Business.”
Grahamwouldendeavourtoseduceherattentionbyopeninghisdeskand
displayingitsmultifariouscontents:seals,brightsticksofwax,pen-knives,with
amiscellanyofengravings—someofthemgailycoloured—whichhehad
amassedfromtimetotime.Norwasthispowerfultemptationwhollyunavailing:
hereyes,furtivelyraisedfromherwork,castmanyapeeptowardsthewritingtable,richinscatteredpictures.AnetchingofachildplayingwithaBlenheim
spanielhappenedtofluttertothefloor.
“Prettylittledog!”saidshe,delighted.
Grahamprudentlytooknonotice.Erelong,stealingfromhercorner,she
approachedtoexaminethetreasuremoreclosely.Thedog’sgreateyesandlong
ears,andthechild’shatandfeathers,wereirresistible.
“Nicepicture!”washerfavourablecriticism.
“Well—youmayhaveit,”saidGraham.
Sheseemedtohesitate.Thewishtopossesswasstrong,buttoacceptwouldbea
compromiseofdignity.No.Sheputitdownandturnedaway.
“Youwon’thaveit,then,Polly?”
“Iwouldrathernot,thankyou.”
“ShallItellyouwhatIwilldowiththepictureifyourefuseit?”


Shehalfturnedtolisten.
“Cutitintostripsforlightingthetaper.”
“No!”
“ButIshall.”
“Please—don’t.”
Grahamwaxedinexorableonhearingthepleadingtone;hetookthescissors
fromhismother’swork-basket.
“Heregoes!”saidhe,makingamenacingflourish.“RightthroughFido’shead,
andsplittinglittleHarry’snose.”
“No!No!NO!”

“Thencometome.Comequickly,oritisdone.”
Shehesitated,lingered,butcomplied.
“Now,willyouhaveit?”heasked,asshestoodbeforehim.
“Please.”
“ButIshallwantpayment.”
“Howmuch?”
“Akiss.”
“Givethepicturefirstintomyhand.”
Polly,asshesaidthis,lookedratherfaithlessinherturn.Grahamgaveit.She
abscondedadebtor,dartedtoherfather,andtookrefugeonhisknee.Graham
roseinmimicwrathandfollowed.SheburiedherfaceinMr.Home’swaistcoat.
“Papa—papa—sendhimaway!”
“I’llnotbesentaway,”saidGraham.


Withfacestillaverted,sheheldoutherhandtokeephimoff
“Then,Ishallkissthehand,”saidhe;butthatmomentitbecameaminiaturefist,
anddealthimpaymentinasmallcointhatwasnotkisses.
Graham—notfailinginhiswaytobeaswilyashislittleplaymate—retreated
apparentlyquitediscomfited;heflunghimselfonasofa,andrestinghishead
againstthecushion,laylikeoneinpain.Polly,findinghimsilent,presently
peepedathim.Hiseyesandfacewerecoveredwithhishands.Sheturnedonher
father’sknee,andgazedatherfoeanxiouslyandlong.Grahamgroaned.
“Papa,whatisthematter?”shewhispered.
“Youhadbetteraskhim,Polly.”
“Ishehurt?”(groansecond.)
“Hemakesanoiseasifhewere,”saidMr.Home.
“Mother,”suggestedGraham,feebly,“Ithinkyouhadbettersendforthedoctor.
Ohmyeye!”(renewedsilence,brokenonlybysighsfromGraham.)
“IfIweretobecomeblind–-?”suggestedthislast.

Hischastisercouldnotbearthesuggestion.Shewasbesidehimdirectly.
“Letmeseeyoureye:Ididnotmeantotouchit,onlyyourmouth;andIdidnot
thinkIhitsoveryhard.”
Silenceansweredher.Herfeaturesworked,—“Iamsorry;Iamsorry!”
Thensucceededemotion,faltering;weeping.
“Havedonetryingthatchild,Graham,”saidMrs.Bretton.
“Itisallnonsense,mypet,”criedMr.Home.
AndGrahamoncemoresnatchedheraloft,andsheagainpunishedhim;and
whileshepulledhislion’slocks,termedhim—“Thenaughtiest,rudest,worst,
untruestpersonthateverwas.”